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Me:
Since today, okay?
Rest of the table:
Ooooooo.
Me:
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.
Lilly:
See. We all know something’s wrong, Thermopolis. Spill.
Me:
NOTHING IS WRONG. I’M JUST TIRED, OKAY?
J.P.:
Hey, does anyone want to see my blisters? From my new jazz shoes? They’re pretty sweet. Take a look.
Is it my imagination, or was J.P. just trying to distract Lilly from picking on me?
God, he is SO nice.
I HAVE to get that story away from Lilly. Only how? HOW????
Tuesday, March 9, G & T
Well. THAT didn’t go well.
And okay, maybe I should have just dropped the whole thing about her liking him.
But still. She didn’t have to tell Mrs. Hill I was trying to sabotage her ’zine, then gather everything up and go staple by herself in the teachers’ lounge.
I have the blood of many generations of strong, independent women coursing through my veins. How would one of them handle this situation? Besides strangling Lilly, I mean.
Tuesday, March 9, G & T
Well. THAT didn’t go well.
And okay, maybe I should have just dropped the whole thing about her liking him.
But still. She didn’t have to tell Mrs. Hill I was trying to sabotage her ’zine, then gather everything up and go staple by herself in the teachers’ lounge.
I have the blood of many generations of strong, independent women coursing through my veins. How would one of them handle this situation? Besides strangling Lilly, I mean.
Tuesday, March 9, third-floor stairwell
Kenny took the pass to the men’s room, and a few minutes later, I took the pass to the ladies’, and we both ditched Earth Science and met Tina, who ditched Geometry, and Boris, who ditched English, and Ling Su, who ditched Art, up here to go over the choreography we haven’t quite gotten yet.
I feel bad about ditching, and I recognize that getting an education is important.
But so is not making a fool of yourself in front of Bono.
Tuesday, March 9, the Grand Ballroom, the Plaza
