It was my turn in Spanish class to pick a Spanish name.
I wanted that name because there was this really hot Mexican girl in the grade above me and everyone was in love with her including me. Actually, I want to be her so I named myself after her. Because no one ever got anywhere manifesting subtly into the universe.
“Oh nooo. Not Dolores. Do you know what that means mija?”
I glared at Ms. Sato.
It means who asked for your fucking opinion. Let me name my goddamn self.
I just shook my head.
“It means sorrow, pain, anguish. You don’t want to name yourself that.”
I told her I did. I could feel my chin involuntarily jutting out. It’s this weird thing I still do when I feel defensive. It’s super ugly and sometimes I wish my defense mechanisms were cuter—like flashing involuntary peace signs.
“Why would you want to name yourself something so negative?”
I told her that I wanted to go by that name and it was my choice.
“Go by chaquita, it means 'little girl!”
I started turning red because my Spanish teacher was trying to name me after the banana girl—which in hindsight is FUCKING RACIST—because you know, of my yellow undertones on account of being Asian.
“How about Rosalia? Rosy. You do look red Mija!” She chuckled and I swear to fucking god she was trolling me because her eyes were twinkling with passive aggressive malice.
I took the name Rosalia just to get the attention off of me but that’s when I resolved to fuck her up every way that I could for the rest of the year.
Sato 1, Kat 0
Sato had female pattern baldness which made her hair all patchy on the sides. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t cancer. Bitch looked like the female version of Santa. All round and crimson glowy. But still, I didn’t want to get cosmically fucked for hating a teacher with cancer so I asked around to older kids who had her class. Nope, no cancer. Just fat and balding. To hide the baldness she would pin her hair up but we could still see the patches when her hair moved.
I decided to wear my hair the same way. Pinned up all tightly on the sides—I even gelled my hair to make clumps stick together all stringy like. I basically cartwheeled into class that day and I watched her eyes bulge when she saw me. Her face was bright red. I told her in front of the class that she should go by Rosalia.
Sato 1 Kat 1
I skipped class to hang out with the trendy Korean girls and smoke cigs in the parking lot. When trendy Korean girls give you the invite to share a smoke break, you fucking take it. Besides wanting to be Dolores I also wanted to be an Asian baby girl badass. Seedy karaoke bars, pressed ecstasy pills, older Korean fuckboi boyfriends? Yes- please and thank you.
3 puffs into my Camel Crush Sato waddles around the corner and writes me up. On the write up slip there’s a section where the teacher writes what happens in her own words and the student was supposed to write their version. Kind of like the accusation and then the rebuttal.
I stand in front of her while she scribbles away. I mumble a weak sorry.
"Mmmmmm" she replies noncommittally.
"I'm really sorry Ms. Sato." This time there's a twinge of desperation in my voice and all I can think about is how fucked I am when my mom finds out. I'm fucking terrified. I can feel the phantom Asian mom slaps on my face-- in anticipation of what’s going to happen when she finds out. Sato ignores my pleas and continues writing. It’s a fucking novel and I’m pretty sure she’s humming but I can’t tell for sure because don’t demons emit a frequency our ears can’t pick up?
She finishes and hands me the write up slip all smug. There it was. That fucking twinkle. I know she's just waiting for me to agonize over my rebuttal. All want to do is cry and reach over and rip the remaining patches of her hair out. But I instead I decide to do the next best thing.
I knew I was fucked either way so I unpinned the grenade, swallowed it, and gave Sato a big ol’ bear hug. I scribbled two letters on it and slid It back.
The look on her bitch face when she realized I wasn’t going to play her stupid game and be her cuck. Worth.
Kat 2 Sato 1
It was midterm time and I forgot to do a mini-project. Ok, I chose not to do a mini-project. It was worth enough points to lower my A- to a B- and I couldn’t bring home an Asian failing grade.
So I copied the project that morning from a friend, Pedro. Pedro was a Latino kid who was taking the class as an elective to get an easy A. The assignment was one of those writing prompt problems:
Describe what your room looks like. Describe the members of your family. Where do you see yourself in 10 years.. blah blahhhh.
I changed enough of my answer so that it wasn’t obvious that I cheated. When I turned my assignment in, I was feeling like I had just made the universe my bitch. Damn, self-satisfaction is the shit. No wonder Sato bathes in it. Fucking hippo.
A week later when I got my paper back I almost died. I got a D. I furiously scanned the paper with my eyes… arbitrary red x’s were scattered everywhere.
But what the fuck could I do? Take the paper back and tell her I didn’t deserve the grade because I used my native Spanish speaking friend to cheat?
And then my eyes fell on a little comment card stapled on the bottom. There were only 2 words scribbled:
Sato: 2304958723495872394578, Kat: dead