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And you’re starting a literary magazine too make up for the lost revenue?
Who told you that?
Lilly. Can I just say that, even though I think starting a literary magazine is a neat idea and all, when we needed to make some money fast at my old school, we sold the cutest scented candles in the shapes of actual fruits, and we made a mint!
What a great idea! Don’t you think so, Mia?
NO!
Wednesday, March 3, G & T
So at lunch today Boris Pelkowski put his tray down next to mine and said, “So I hear we’re broke.”
And I seriously lost it.
“YOU GUYS,” I yelled at the entire lunch table. “YOU HAVE TO STOP TALKING ABOUT THIS. WE’RE TRYING TO KEEP IT A SECRET.”
Then I explained about how much I value my life, and how I would not care for it to be cut short by an enraged hapkido brown-belt valedictorian with monkeylike strength in her upper torso (even if, by killing and/or maiming me, she would actually be doing me a favor, since then I wouldn’t have to live with the humiliation of having my boyfriend forsake me because I am not a party girl).
“She would never kill you, Mia,” Boris pointed out helpfully. “Lars would shoot her first.”
Lars, who was showing Tina’s bodyguard, Wahim, all the games on his new Sidekick, looked up upon hearing his name.
“Who is planning to kill the princess?” Lars asked alertly.
“No one,” I said, from between gritted teeth. “Because we’re going to get the money before she ever finds out. RIGHT????”
I think I must have really impressed them with my seriousness, since they all went, “Okay.”
Then, thankfully, Perin changed the subject.
“Uh-oh, looks like they did it again,” she said, pointing to the Guy Who Hates It When They Put Corn in the Chili. Because he was sitting in his usual place by himself, disgustedly picking pieces of corn from his bowl of chili, and flicking them onto his lunch tray.
“That poor guy,” Perin said with a sigh. “I feel so bad whenever I see him sitting alone like that. I know how that feels.”
There was a painful pause as we all recalled how Perin had sat by herself at the beginning of the school year because she was new. Until we adopted her, that is.
“I thought he got a girlfriend,” Tina said. “Didn't you say you saw him buying prom tickets last year, Mia?”
“Yes,” I replied, with a sigh. “But I was wrong. It turned out he was only asking the people who were selling the prom tickets if they knew where the closest F train station was.”
Which, incidentally, is what inspired my short story about him.
“It's so sad,” Tina said, gazing in the direction of the Guy Who Hates It When They Put Corn in the Chili. “It makes me think that what happens in Mia’s short story about him could happen in real life.”
!!!!!
“Maybe we should ask him to sit with us,” I said. Because the last thing I need, on top of everything else, is the guilt of having caused some guy to commit suicide by not being nicer to him.
“No, thank you,” Boris said. “I have enough problems digesting this disgusting food without having to do so in the company of a bonafide weirdo.”
“Hello,” Lilly said under her breath. “Pot, this is kettle. You’re black.”
“I heard that,” Boris said, looking pained.
“You were meant to,” Lilly sang.
Then Lilly pulled a bunch of flyers from her Hello Kitty Trapper Keeper. She’d clearly been down in the office, photo-copying something. She started passing the photocopies around.
