Back Spin Me Right Round
Chapters (35)
  1. Half Title
  2. Dedication
  3. Title Page
  4. Under the Rainbow
  5. Comfort and the Cutting Edge
  6. The Chaz Wilson Card
  7. If You Can’t Trust Your Boyfriend
  8. The Past/Future Tense
  9. Careful What You Wish For
  10. Gale Warning
  11. What’s Your Damage?
  12. Mash Note from a Mystery Man
  13. A Date for Prom
  14. When the Lights Go Down in the City
  15. Blinded by the Light
  16. In the Closet
  17. The Status Quo
  18. So Not a Fool
  19. Not from Around Here
  20. The Stars and the Cars
  21. Second Best
  22. Glowing
  23. Over the Edge
  24. Alone
  25. Hate Did That for Itself
  26. Blue Monday
  27. Here Is Where I Am
  28. Perfect Plan
  29. Take on Me
  30. Get Used to It
  31. Even the Space-Time Continuum
  32. It’s All Ours
  33. Prom
  34. A Note from the Author
  35. Acknowledgments

I try not to focus on what happens next for me. There are no transcripts for Ms. Silverthorn to produce, and there never were, so I guess not much has changed, but the illusion of normalcy—going to class, hanging with friends—is gone because I can’t go to class, and two of my four friends are suspended. I have no idea how long Ms. Silverthorn can let me stay with her, and what other choice do I have?

We’re all in her living room, but she’s not here, having returned to campus to meet with Frohmeyer. Leeza is giving Chaz a pep talk about his parents. The reality has sunk in as he thinks about what life will be like in the months between now and the start of college—if they don’t try to stop him from going, that is. Leeza points out that he turns eighteen in a few weeks, so really, they can’t prevent him from attending a school he’s been accepted to. He just has to find a way to pay for the parts his scholarship doesn’t cover. “ ‘Just,’ ” he murmurs.

Ma Elena arrives with trays of Wendy’s: four Frosties and four large fries. I know before she says it that she’s going to call this “The Cure” because she has been calling it that my whole life. You eat your French fries one by one, dipping each in the Frosty as you go. Because I’ve been doing this since before elementary school, it seems perfectly natural, but Chaz and Leeza react like it’s gross and horrifying. All it takes is one sweet and salty bite to convert nonbelievers. I mean, please, chocolatey and fried all at once? It’s a pleasure delivery system. Mom always deploys it when she’s blue or I’ve had a bad day at school. I may even have broken up with a boy or two just to deserve “The Cure.”

Dunking a slender fry into her cup, Leeza asks where we think we’ll be in ten years. Ma Elena is crystal clear: By then, she will be done with nursing school and working. She’ll be married, but she won’t have kids right away, because she wants to travel. (Mom? Travel?) Obviously, she can’t go to Cuba, so maybe Puerto Rico first and then Spain. Chaz says he’s going to be in the Alvin Ailey Dance Company or doing whatever leads up to that. He says he knows he’ll have to work other jobs on the way, so he wants to get a teaching certificate and become a drama coach.