Historically Inaccurate

🌥 F O U R 🌥

"Goddamn it Scott," I snort, taking a drink from the ones laid on the table .The new members aren't supposed to bring food, since it's supposed to be a sort of party for them, and while we don't have that many members, I'm still surprised at the amount of food they were able to gather for a party..

"So, who are you really supposed to be?" Alan, who is clearly dressed like Lin Manuel Miranda (having semi long hair really helped him there) from Hamilton, leans from his place on one of the chairs closest to the board.

"Take a guess," I mean, this is a history club, if they don't know I'll be slightly offended. Carlos, who is sitting against the wall begins to open his mouth, but I hold my hand up to him, "You're not allowed to cheat you're half Mexican."

His mouth promptly shuts close again.

"Oh, that's not fair, do you have any idea how many nuns are famous around the world?" The door to the room opens and  Anna struts in, followed by the other two missing club members, though this doesn't stop Scott's attempt at going around my question. "Mother Teresa...Mother Angelica...they're better known than priests after Spotlight."

"Oh I know— "

"Sor Juana," Anna answers before Alan can. Her chin-length blue hair is covered with a dark brown wig that falls in waves over her shoulders, a yellow and white striped dress that opens up to show dark jeans underneath it.  Not what I  personally would consider fashionable, but she manages to pull it off — although, considering it's Anna we're talking about, this shouldn't surprise me.

"That's me," I say, "but who are you?"

"Silvia Rivera, honey" Anna pushes her hair with a flip, "just a great figure for the Trans movement and my queen, aside from Beyonce of course."

"Y'all are so deep about your figures, I just dressed up as Tesla because I think he was chill and I had enough clothes to pull it off." Carlos shrugs, standing up.

"You're such a party pooper."

"I'm practical, unlike Sol."

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you? Remember what happened in sixth grade?"

"Hey, ni abras la boca o les digo que paso en eleventh grade —"

"Ni se te ocurra!"

"Don't you just love when people start talking in a language you don't understand?" I hear Alan ask as Carlos and I continue to bicker about embarrassing things that we've done in the past.

"Yeah I live for it." Ophelia, one of the club members that entered the room with Anna, responds.

"Quick, Scott, tell me something in German."

"I don't know German dude."

"Anything works."

"Ich spreche kein Deutsch."

Carlos and I stop in mid threat to look at Scott, dumbfounded. Alan seems mildly impressed and oddly interested.

"What the hell did you just say?"

"I told you, I don't speak German, I just know how to say that." Scott shrugs, the buttons of his collar glinting as he leans back against the desk. "I know how to say that in most languages, just in case I'm ever lost in an unknown place."

"Oh really?" Ophelia, dressed in some fancy looking Victorian dress, moves forward, " what about in Japanese?"

"私は日本語がわからない"

"I somehow feel like he's just insulting us in different languages." Carlos leans in close to me, and I can't help but snort. Hey, it is quite a helpful thing to know.