Join the Club, Maggie Diaz: Chapters 1–4

It’s ridiculous, but my Very Cuban mother got it for me after I started riding my bike to school so she can always track me through GPS.
Even though I’m still stuck with the embarrassing accessory, Mami says I can get an actual phone if my report card is good.

Not having a phone means I’m practically invisible. No texts, funny videos, or games. No Maggie to be found anywhere.

Zoey’s mom is Haitian American and can be just as strict as mine over anything to do with the internet or pushing for too much independence too fast. We tread new ground with them carefully.

“It was at the lake, like, right by the Everglades and the mosquitoes were deadly. Almost as bad as their so-called pizza. I’ll just say, I have my doubts as to what they told us was pepperoni.”

I didn’t get to crack open any of my brand-new notebooks yet or show off my new big brain outlook since it was only the boring first day get-to-know-each-other stuff.

I escape to my room, but it’s no longer my sanctuary.

She is staging a coup on my room.

I wince and wave a hand in front of my nose. “You clearly haven’t brushed your teeth.”

Caro and I do a little shoving dance for dominance before she pushes past me to get inside the bathroom.

“Where is my phone?” she mutters.
It’s a perfect segue.

“Didn’t we just have a conversation?” Mom asks, distracted as she bounces a fussy Lucas and opens one of the letters.

Mom resumes her search.

Mimicking my mother’s voice even as she searches for her phone, I say, “Responsibility leads to independence and growth and it’s important that I have a phone in case of an emergency.”

The high school’s first bell isn’t for an hour, but she does cross-country and they apparently meet before school.

On days like this, I wish Dad was home instead of away, working offshore doing crane stuff for a salvage company.

“I didn’t say yes!” Mom insists.

It’s a hand-me-down laptop that I used when I had to do virtual classes.

We’re working on a new roller coaster for our doomsday amusement park server, the Undead Realm.

I won’t have to deal with a kleptomaniac abuela or crying baby brother right after school.

She retracts her hand and starts calling attendance.

“These next couple of weeks are going to be a little chaotic until your dad gets back.”

“This is temporary,” I say, deadpan.

“It’s been a long afternoon,” I tell Pablo after a gusty sigh.

I’m one of his official taste testers while he saves up for culinary school.

Before I can do the honors, Abuela rushes over, looking frazzled. The stroller is now loaded down with bags. Somewhere in the mess of them, Lucas is wailing.

“Ay, pero, este niño,” Abuela complains, trying her best to sound bothered, but she’s already melting over his puckered lips.

“You’re—you’re new?” Pablo asks her.
“Yeah, just moved here from Atlanta.” She smiles and I try not to laugh as Pablo nearly swoons.

He’s been working on his comic since the summer. It’s about the legendary Skunk Ape of Florida, who turns into a post- apocalyptic robot after the sea levels rise and wipe out Miami.

“They’ve got loads of supplies and this week we start work on contour line drawing using a grid,” he explains with a happy laugh.

Julian is delighted by the prospect of learning something new.