offers.
“Exactly! That’s exactly what I was going to say. As much fun as an oil slick.” She gives him a conspiratorial look. “And as for alienating people – well, to be totally honest, and I know he’s your friend and everything, but—”
“Clem’s the man,” says Cody. “Like I said at the meeting, if you need facts and statistics to back up your arguments, he’s got all the dope.”
Or is the dope…
“Oh, I know, I know…” chitters Sicilee. “And I’m sure that could come in really handy … but don’t you think that, besides always being so depressing, he can be a major bully, too? Do this… Don’t do that… He even wanted to stop us all from drinking soda! Can you believe that?” She touches his arm. “Some people find it very off-putting.”
“I don’t,” says Cody. “I admire his passion. He’s a true man of principles.” He half-turns, smiling impishly. “But, even Clem’d tell you, he’s about as diplomatic as a wounded bear.”
They’re still laughing as they step into the building.
Things are suddenly going so well that Sicilee can be forgiven for thinking that they are going to continue going so well.
But, of course, they aren’t.
They’re barely through the door when Maya Baraberra emerges from the blur of students like a shark from a shoal of minnows. Maya now dresses exclusively in clothes that have been previously worn by someone else and has added a new and fairly extensive range of buttons to her book bag.
“Cody! Sicilee!” Any passing stranger would think they were her two best friends.
“Hey,” says Cody. He doesn’t recognize Maya either.
Sicilee merely maintains her usual smile.
“Whoowhee … get a look at you! Talk about being in touch with the Earth!” Maya, for a change, is not looking at Cody. Her eyes move from Sicilee’s boots to the coat and finally stop as they meet Sicilee’s eyes. “That’s not real leather you’re wearing, is it?” she asks doubtfully.
Trust the Barbarian not to be able to tell the difference between real leather and some cheap imitation. “Of course it is,” purrs Sicilee. “It’s Italian.”
“Oh, wow. Really?” Maya scrunches up her face so tightly that her nose ring seems to be looking at Sicilee, too. “It’s just that … you know … I thought you said you were vegan – or at least a vegetarian.”
As smoothly as she can, and still smiling, Sicilee attempts to climb out of the trap Maya laid for her. “I’m not eating them, you know. I’m just wearing them.”
“But still… You’ve got all that wasted land and water … and the carbon emissions during production … and the environmental degradation … and all the toxins of the dyes. I mean, it’s good that they didn’t come from China with all the pollution and slave labour and everything, but Italy is still pretty far away…”
Whereas Maya’s clothes obviously came from a thrift store.
Sicilee smiles on. “I only just became a vegan. I can’t throw out my entire wardrobe overnight.”
“Oh, of course you can’t…” agrees Maya. “What are you supposed to do if you don’t have any shoes or coats that aren’t leather?”
“And what about you?” Sicilee glares down at the frayed and dirty shoes on Maya’s feet. “Those aren’t bedroom slippers you’re wearing.”
“No, they’re not.” There are few things that make a smile sweeter than triumph. “They’re actually totally vegan. Like me.” Maya swings one foot in the air so Sicilee can get a good look. “That’d be hemp and reclaimed tyres, not dead cow.”
Merciful Mother! Wearing somebody’s old tyres – it’s like admitting you eat from the garbage.
“They look like you made them yourself,” sneers Sicilee. And can only hope that she sounds as disgusted and unkind as she feels.
“Oy! Wait a minute. Pull back on the rope there.”
They are so intent on insulting each other that Sicilee and Maya’s attention misplaced Cody for a few
“Exactly! That’s exactly what I was going to say. As much fun as an oil slick.” She gives him a conspiratorial look. “And as for alienating people – well, to be totally honest, and I know he’s your friend and everything, but—”
“Clem’s the man,” says Cody. “Like I said at the meeting, if you need facts and statistics to back up your arguments, he’s got all the dope.”
Or is the dope…
“Oh, I know, I know…” chitters Sicilee. “And I’m sure that could come in really handy … but don’t you think that, besides always being so depressing, he can be a major bully, too? Do this… Don’t do that… He even wanted to stop us all from drinking soda! Can you believe that?” She touches his arm. “Some people find it very off-putting.”
“I don’t,” says Cody. “I admire his passion. He’s a true man of principles.” He half-turns, smiling impishly. “But, even Clem’d tell you, he’s about as diplomatic as a wounded bear.”
They’re still laughing as they step into the building.
Things are suddenly going so well that Sicilee can be forgiven for thinking that they are going to continue going so well.
But, of course, they aren’t.
They’re barely through the door when Maya Baraberra emerges from the blur of students like a shark from a shoal of minnows. Maya now dresses exclusively in clothes that have been previously worn by someone else and has added a new and fairly extensive range of buttons to her book bag.
“Cody! Sicilee!” Any passing stranger would think they were her two best friends.
“Hey,” says Cody. He doesn’t recognize Maya either.
Sicilee merely maintains her usual smile.
“Whoowhee … get a look at you! Talk about being in touch with the Earth!” Maya, for a change, is not looking at Cody. Her eyes move from Sicilee’s boots to the coat and finally stop as they meet Sicilee’s eyes. “That’s not real leather you’re wearing, is it?” she asks doubtfully.
Trust the Barbarian not to be able to tell the difference between real leather and some cheap imitation. “Of course it is,” purrs Sicilee. “It’s Italian.”
“Oh, wow. Really?” Maya scrunches up her face so tightly that her nose ring seems to be looking at Sicilee, too. “It’s just that … you know … I thought you said you were vegan – or at least a vegetarian.”
As smoothly as she can, and still smiling, Sicilee attempts to climb out of the trap Maya laid for her. “I’m not eating them, you know. I’m just wearing them.”
“But still… You’ve got all that wasted land and water … and the carbon emissions during production … and the environmental degradation … and all the toxins of the dyes. I mean, it’s good that they didn’t come from China with all the pollution and slave labour and everything, but Italy is still pretty far away…”
Whereas Maya’s clothes obviously came from a thrift store.
Sicilee smiles on. “I only just became a vegan. I can’t throw out my entire wardrobe overnight.”
“Oh, of course you can’t…” agrees Maya. “What are you supposed to do if you don’t have any shoes or coats that aren’t leather?”
“And what about you?” Sicilee glares down at the frayed and dirty shoes on Maya’s feet. “Those aren’t bedroom slippers you’re wearing.”
“No, they’re not.” There are few things that make a smile sweeter than triumph. “They’re actually totally vegan. Like me.” Maya swings one foot in the air so Sicilee can get a good look. “That’d be hemp and reclaimed tyres, not dead cow.”
Merciful Mother! Wearing somebody’s old tyres – it’s like admitting you eat from the garbage.
“They look like you made them yourself,” sneers Sicilee. And can only hope that she sounds as disgusted and unkind as she feels.
“Oy! Wait a minute. Pull back on the rope there.”
They are so intent on insulting each other that Sicilee and Maya’s attention misplaced Cody for a few
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