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Sometimes I completely hate myself.

Wednesday, December 10, 3 a.m.

You’re never going to believe this. Something Grandmère said is keeping me awake.

Seriously. I was dead asleep—well, as asleep as you can be with a twenty-five pound cat purring on your abdomen—when all of a sudden, I woke up with this totally random phrase going around in my head:

“Well, you’re his girlfriend now, aren’t you?”

That’s what Grandmère said when I asked her what was so ingenious about Kenny’s having sent me those anonymous love letters.

And do you know what?

SHE’S RIGHT.

It seems totally bizarre to admit that Grandmère might be right about something, but I think it’s true. Kenny’s anonymous love letters did work. I mean, I am his girlfriend now.

So what’s to keep me from writing some anonymous love letters to the boy I like? I mean, really? Besides the fact that I already have a boyfriend, and the guy I like already has a girlfriend?

I think this is a plan that might have some merit. It needs more work, of course, but hey, desperate measures call for desperate times. Or something like that. Too sleepy to figure it out.

Wednesday, December 10, Homeroom

Okay, I was up all night thinking about it, and I’m prett

y sure I’ve got it figured out. Even as I sit here, my plan is being put into action, thanks to Tina Hakim Baba and a stop at Ho’s Deli before school started.

Actually, Ho’s didn’t really have what I wanted. I wanted a card that was blank inside, with a picture on the front that was sophisticated but not too sexy. But the only blank cards they had at Ho’s (that weren’t plastered with pictures of kittens) were ones with photos of fruit being dipped into chocolate sauce.

I tried to choose a non-phallic fruit, but even the strawberry I got is kind of sexier than I would have liked. I don’t know what’s sexy about fruit with chocolate sauce dripping off it, but Tina was like, “Whoa,” when she saw it.

Still, she gamely agreed to print my poem on the inside of the card, so Michael won’t recognize my handwriting. She even liked my poem, which I came up with at five this morning:

Roses are Red

Violets are Blue

You may not know it

But someone loves you.

Not my best work, I will admit, but it was really hard to come up with something better after only three hours of sleep.

I hesitated somewhat over the use of the L word. I thought maybe I should substitute like for love. I don’t want him to think there’s a creepy stalker after him, and all.

But Tina said love was absolutely right. Because, as she put it, “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

And since it’s anonymous, I guess it doesn’t matter that I am laying open my soul.

Anyway, Tina goes by Michael’s locker right before we have PE, so she’s going to slip it to him then.

I can’t believe that this is the low I have stooped to. But like Dad once told me, Faint heart never won fair lady.

Wednesday, December 10, Homeroom

Lars just pointed out that I’m not exactly risking anything, seeing as how I didn’t sign the card and even went to the extreme of having someone else write out the poem for me (Lars knows all about this, on account of I had to explain to him why we had to go into Ho’s at eight fifteen in the morning). He helped pick the card, but I would be happy if that was the extent of his contribution to this particular project. Because he’s a man, I cannot imagine his input is at all valuable.

Besides, he’s been married like four times, so I highly doubt he knows anything about romance.

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