it, she gives it away.”
“Do you think I could talk to her for my assignment?”
“Sure. You can come to my house if you promise not to scream when you see my mother’s paintings. They’re scandalous !”
Mary Violet lived nearby and we walked to her house on narrow streets that didn’t have sidewalks. Often a car would slow down and the driver would call out a hello to her or a kid on a bike would wave and shout to her.
“It’s an itsy-bitsy little town,” Mary Violet said. “We know all the tedious details about everyone else. That’s why I was ecstatic that you came to Birch Grove. Of course, it would have been more fun if you were secretly a super-dreamy guy dressed in girls’ clothes and hiding out from the Mafia.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Oh, I’m already over it. Not every transfer student can be a super-dreamy guy on the run from the mob.” She sighed. “There isn’t any interesting new talent in Greenwood.”
“Talent?”
“You know, guys. You go to preschool and primary school with these boys and you can’t even think of them that way. It’s like incest without the thrilling wrongness. It’s boring wrongness. Brongness.”
“I used to feel that way about the boys in our group home. The fastest way to get over a crush is to share a bathroom with a guy. It’s way too much information.”
“Was it a horrible orphanage? Did you eat moldy gruel?”
“We ate stuff that came in giant cans from the dented warehouse store and could be microwaved. It was a group home, not an orphanage.” I told her a little about the ramshackle house and the rules.
“That sounds hideous! I could never ever get up at six every day. I’m sure it’s child abuse. How did you get to be so smart?”
“I had a friend who liked science and told me I should use my brain, so I started sitting at the nerd table in the cafeteria. They decided to use me as the subject in an experiment to see if anyone could be smart. That’s why I freaked out when we had to read Flowers for Algernon last year. I was paranoid that I might revert back to the feral kid I was.”
“That book is freaky anyway. I swear, the people who pick assigned reading must be high. The Stranger, ugh. How were you feral?”
I shrugged and my book bag slid from my shoulder. I pushed the strap back up while I thought of my answer. “I didn’t know how to communicate so all I did was cuss.”
“You?” Her blue eyes widened. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true. If you removed the obscenities from my vocabulary, the only things left would be you, can, and go . I didn’t have the words to express myself so all I felt was an inchoate anger. Now I know when I’m aggravated, frustrated, anxious, exasperated, exhausted, fretful, infuriated…”
“ Inchoate is an excellent word, but those are all negative feelings. What about when you’re hilarity-ated?”
“Do you make up words all the time?”
“Yes, because William Shakespeare made up words and he wrote poems, too, just like me. I believe I’m his spiritual heir.”
“I don’t think he wrote any poems about roadkill.” I watched a woman walking with a toddler across the road. “I got vexed when I talked to Mr. Shaunessy because he didn’t understand why a foster kid would do anything to be with family. I’d be happy to have even one relative.”
“Are you talking about Bebe leaving school? It is a little odd, but she had her own agenda. She’s the reason we have to be super careful about texting, because she was caught sexting.”
“Everyone who has a phone sexts.” I wondered what Lucky sexted.
“Not me, because I believe women must have mystique to be truly alluring.” When I stopped laughing, she said, “Bebe must have been sexting with someone from the outside because there was a humongous brouhaha that wouldn’t have happened with a Greenwood boy. I think it was someone older, because she was always going on about mature men.”
“If Bebe ran
“Do you think I could talk to her for my assignment?”
“Sure. You can come to my house if you promise not to scream when you see my mother’s paintings. They’re scandalous !”
Mary Violet lived nearby and we walked to her house on narrow streets that didn’t have sidewalks. Often a car would slow down and the driver would call out a hello to her or a kid on a bike would wave and shout to her.
“It’s an itsy-bitsy little town,” Mary Violet said. “We know all the tedious details about everyone else. That’s why I was ecstatic that you came to Birch Grove. Of course, it would have been more fun if you were secretly a super-dreamy guy dressed in girls’ clothes and hiding out from the Mafia.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Oh, I’m already over it. Not every transfer student can be a super-dreamy guy on the run from the mob.” She sighed. “There isn’t any interesting new talent in Greenwood.”
“Talent?”
“You know, guys. You go to preschool and primary school with these boys and you can’t even think of them that way. It’s like incest without the thrilling wrongness. It’s boring wrongness. Brongness.”
“I used to feel that way about the boys in our group home. The fastest way to get over a crush is to share a bathroom with a guy. It’s way too much information.”
“Was it a horrible orphanage? Did you eat moldy gruel?”
“We ate stuff that came in giant cans from the dented warehouse store and could be microwaved. It was a group home, not an orphanage.” I told her a little about the ramshackle house and the rules.
“That sounds hideous! I could never ever get up at six every day. I’m sure it’s child abuse. How did you get to be so smart?”
“I had a friend who liked science and told me I should use my brain, so I started sitting at the nerd table in the cafeteria. They decided to use me as the subject in an experiment to see if anyone could be smart. That’s why I freaked out when we had to read Flowers for Algernon last year. I was paranoid that I might revert back to the feral kid I was.”
“That book is freaky anyway. I swear, the people who pick assigned reading must be high. The Stranger, ugh. How were you feral?”
I shrugged and my book bag slid from my shoulder. I pushed the strap back up while I thought of my answer. “I didn’t know how to communicate so all I did was cuss.”
“You?” Her blue eyes widened. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true. If you removed the obscenities from my vocabulary, the only things left would be you, can, and go . I didn’t have the words to express myself so all I felt was an inchoate anger. Now I know when I’m aggravated, frustrated, anxious, exasperated, exhausted, fretful, infuriated…”
“ Inchoate is an excellent word, but those are all negative feelings. What about when you’re hilarity-ated?”
“Do you make up words all the time?”
“Yes, because William Shakespeare made up words and he wrote poems, too, just like me. I believe I’m his spiritual heir.”
“I don’t think he wrote any poems about roadkill.” I watched a woman walking with a toddler across the road. “I got vexed when I talked to Mr. Shaunessy because he didn’t understand why a foster kid would do anything to be with family. I’d be happy to have even one relative.”
“Are you talking about Bebe leaving school? It is a little odd, but she had her own agenda. She’s the reason we have to be super careful about texting, because she was caught sexting.”
“Everyone who has a phone sexts.” I wondered what Lucky sexted.
“Not me, because I believe women must have mystique to be truly alluring.” When I stopped laughing, she said, “Bebe must have been sexting with someone from the outside because there was a humongous brouhaha that wouldn’t have happened with a Greenwood boy. I think it was someone older, because she was always going on about mature men.”
“If Bebe ran
Similar Books
