The Witch by Jean Thompson

is a man and u r a beautiful young lady.
    I just don’t know.
    Geronimo was growing a beard, one of those soul patch things. It was like the tuft of hair he combed straight up, like he kept thinking of weird things to do to his face. He had all the lights in his room off so there was only the computer screen and its blurry glow.
    Whats there to know? Just do what comes natural.
    Hey where do you live anyway?
    In a galaxy far far away ha ha.
    Because I would just you know die if you showed up at my school or something.
    Candy baby u got nothing to worry. I know how to keep a secret. Anyway I never leave the house hardly. ROTFL!
    I mean who are you really? Because isn’t it kind of pervy to be talking about this stuff.
    She was pretty sure he talked to other girls. He hadn’t meant to say so but he sort of did once.
    Geronimo bent over the screen, typing. He was wearing a T-shirt that said “I Support Re-Cycling. I Wore This Yesterday.” The sleeves made his arms look fat.
Well who are YOU really, come on Candy gurl.
    I have to go now.
    Aw hey Im sorry. Im on yur side like nobody else is cuz I. Dont think u r bad just a beyootiful gurl. Doin what comes natural an that Richie is one lucky man. Pull yur pants down.
    No way!
    Just a little. Come on its practice. For when Richie asks u.
    She had the worst underwear on, plain white cotton like a little kid’s. She shook her head at the screen, no.
    Y not?
    Its pervy.
    OK so dont. Just put yur fingers where it feels good.
    No!
    Y not?
    She shook her head.
    Candy gurl dont be fraid. Of beautiful sexy u. Feel the power of the Force! LOL! Becoz u got so much power u know it an u can let it loose. Jus a lil touch.
    So it was pervy. She didn’t care or she didn’t care right now because it felt good so maybe she was a perv too. She kept her eyes shut,
Richie Richie Richie
, but at the worst possible moment she remembered their tenant in the basement, Mr. Grotius, who was maybe sixty years old and had a face like cigarette ash, all crumbly and gray, and long gray shaky hands.
    She slammed the computer lid closed. She unplugged everything and turned off the light and covered herself up in the sheets, her sweat turning cold.
    â€”
    She finally got an iPod! Her mother said it was a waste of good money and if Janice was serious about music she could have kept up her piano lessons, but that was the kind of thing her mother could be expected to say. Janice saved up her birthday money and her babysitting money and went to Target and bought a pink iPod and all the things that went with it. Now at night, instead of getting on the computer, she listened to her music and made lists of the different songs she wanted to buy.
    She didn’t go online with Geronimo anymore. It was just one of those things you did for a while and then you were done with it.
    Ordinarily she would have shown the iPod to Marilee butMarilee was being a giant bitch these days. It was like they were through being friends. They hadn’t had a fight or anything, they just quit talking. Marilee’s Facebook page said she was going on vacation with her family to Colorado, and Janice started to write Thanks for telling me, loser, but decided not to. It would just make her feel crummier.
    Then out of nowhere her mother said, “What is it you’ve been doing on that computer all this time?”
    â€œNothing!”
    â€œDon’t give me that. You’re supposed to use it for homework. Not listen to dirty music.”
    Her heart, which had clenched up, began beating again. Her mother didn’t know anything. “Define dirty.”
    â€œDirty is dirty! You know it when you see it! Don’t roll your eyes at me, you think you can do whatever you want well you can’t, you want people talking about you, you want to be the kind of girl everybody points to when they see you coming? You act like it’s no big deal to go around looking cheap, talking cheap, like everything