FIFTY NINE

"Hi Effie, I've wanted to ask, but who was that guy who dropped you off earlier?"

I looked up at Nina, who placed her food tray on the table where I was sitting. After a hard day vocalizing and dance lessons with my dance coach Girlie. Who told us to call him that?

My dance coach is a Filipino gay man who is super sassy, and he loves it. He speaks fluent Tagalog, and when he gets angry or frustrated, especially with Nina not catching up with the dance, he vents his anger at how slow she is. And I understand most of the cuss words he puts out. I may have been born here, but I could hear my mom's dialect ringing in my ears whenever Athena and Ares fought over stupid things.

Nina and I aren't friends, but more acquaintances since we are both get the same company. We are getting to know each other slowly. When I'm around her flashing that angel look smile and bright white teeth tell me something odd about her. But Lena wants us to be friends.

Ever since she got here, I can't quite figure