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But Lilly pretended not to care. “Whatever. It’s not like I don’t have enough to do. I don’t know if I’d have had time to memorize all those lines, anyway.”
Which is ridiculous, since Lilly practically has a photographic memory, and almost a hundred percent aural recall (which makes fighting with her super hard because sometimes she drags out stuff you said, like, five years before and have no memory of ever saying. But SHE remembers it. Perfectly).
It’s just so wrong! If anyone deserves the lead in Braid!, it’s her!
“At least by playing Alboin’s mistress,” Lilly said, all bravely, “I only have a few lines—‘Why would you marry her, who doesn’t even want you, when you could have me, who adores you?’, or whatever. So I’ll have plenty of time to work on things that REALLY matter. Like Fat Louie’s Pink Butthole.”
And okay, I feel really bad for Lilly, because she totally deserves the part of Rosagunde, and all.
BUT I STILL HATE THAT NAME!!!
Friday, March 5, later during Lunch
So everyone is freaked out because on the way back to our table from the jet line I stopped by where J.P. was sitting by himself and asked him if he wanted to join us.
I don’t know w
hat the big deal is. I mean, it’s not like I suddenly whipped off my clothes and started doing the hula in front of everyone. I just told a guy we know, who some of us may be spending a lot of time with in the near future, that he can come sit with us, if he wants to.
And he said thanks.
And next thing I knew, John Paul Reynolds-Abernathy the Fourth was sliding his tray down next to mine.
“Oh, hi, J.P.,” Tina said. She shot a warning look at Boris, since he was the one who’d objected so strongly when I’d suggested inviting J.P. to join us, back when we’d only known him as the Guy Who Hates It When They Put Corn in the Chili.
But Boris wisely refrained from saying anything about not wanting to eat with a corn hater.
“Thanks,” J.P. said, squeezing into the spot we made for him at our table. Not that he’s fat. He’s just… big. You know, really tall, and everything.
“So what do you think of the falafel?” J.P. asked Lilly, who looked startled at being spoken to by a guy who for, the past two years, we’ve sort of mocked.
She looked even more startled when she realized they both had the exact same things on their trays: falafel, salad, and Yoo-hoo chocolate drink.
“It’s good,” she said, staring at him with kind of a funny look on her face. “If you put enough tahini on it.”
“Anything’s good,” J.P. said, “if you put enough tahini on it.”
THIS IS SO TRUE!!!!!
Trust Boris to go, “Even corn?” all mock-innocently.
Tina shot him another warning look…
…but it was too late. The damage was done. Boris was clearly unable to restrain himself. He started smirking into a napkin, while pretending to be blowing his nose.
“Well,” J.P. said, cheerfully falling for the bait. “I don’t know about that. But maybe, like, erasers.”
Perin brightened at this statement.
“I’ve always thought erasers would taste good fried,” she said. “I mean, sometimes, when I have calamari, that’s what it reminds me of. Fried erasers. So I bet they’d taste good with tahini on them, too.”
“Oh, sure,” J.P. said. “Fry anything, it’d taste good. I’d eat one of these napkins, if it was fried.”
Tina, Lilly, and I exchanged surprised looks. J.P., it turns out, is kind of… funny.
Like, in a humorous, not strange, way.
“My grandmother makes fried grasshoppers sometimes,” Ling Su volunteered. “They’re pretty good.”
