[color="#000000"] [/color][color="#000080"][size="2"][font="garamond"][color="#000000"]I called it Geometry Notes because she's writing this while in geometry class. So you never really get to present time, unless the bell is about to ring.[/color]
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Geometry Notes
The clock in geometry is not working. I am certain that it has been 11:03 for two full minutes now. It’s not impossible. The clocks in this school have been known to stop.
Man. Mr. Hart says that there's a test Thursday. Who has tests on Thursdays? I Thought Fridays were test days.
This is painful. Cornell notes on proving angles. Ouch. But Mr. Hart is cool, for a guy who teaches high school kids math for a living. He's funny, in a dorky sort of way, and helps me understand things. And he's letting me do the quote of the day for tomorrow.
He lets kids write their favorite quotes on the board. I've done it a few times already. I forgot I was up today, so I have no idea what it should be. But seriously, anything is better than "Always smile". That's what's up today. Once a kid put up "Large people are harder to kidnap." No joke. We had a sub that day, and she was not impressed.
What can my quote be? Maybe that one by Samuel Clemmens. "Everyone has talent, but not the courage to-" Oh, crud! I can't remember! "The courage to..." What? I guess that one's out of the picture. I'll look in this month's issue of Dramatics. They always have good quotes.
Oops, bell's gonna ring. Gotta pack up.
"Mr. Hart, I think your clock is broken." That's what I said. Like, right in the middle of the lesson. I do this quite often. When a random thought just pops into my head, it flies out my mouth at a zillion miles per hour. My mom always says my mouth and my brain don't work at the same speed.
So, anyway, Mr. Hart just looked at me, kind of annoyed that I interrupted him, so I added, really fast, "I swear, it’s been 11:14 for, like, six minutes!" Giggles from behind. I rolled my eyes, knowing it was Janet and her gaggle of girls. I realized what I'd said, so I got all exasperated, "No, I don't mean that it’s boring in here, or anything... it... The clock is broken!"
"The clock is not broken, Lilly. Now please watch the board and not the clock." More giggles. Why is it that only girls like Janet can giggle all cute? Most girls can't giggle at all. Like me, for example. I just laugh. Loud.
I do everything loud, actually. Like yesterday, for example. I got out of rehearsal early, so I was just lying there by the school stone, singing this pretty song from choir last year. Then this giant black bee comes and flies up into my face, and I scream, "OMIGOSH! Huge bee! Holy crap!" And I jump up and who do I see but Stan Evans, looking gorgeous as usual in his football jersey. I know, so cliché, right? Cute football player, semi-popular girl has a crush on him, but sometimes that's not so bad. One good thing: he isn't dating Janet. He's a senior, so sophomores are, like, nothing to him. So Janet won't be able to make fun of me for it.
Ugh. Test review. I should probably work on this.
Done with the test review with ten minutes left in class. So, back to the whole Stan thing. Where was I? Oh, right, standing there looking gorgeous. So I jump up and see him, and naturally, my face goes the color of my hair (i.e. red with a capital R) and I kind of stammer something along the lines of "Hi... bee.... scared.... yeah......" while still on the lookout for this thing. I swear, this baby was on steroids or something.
And you know what he does? Smiles. Not like, Okay, you are obviously mentally deranged, so I will entertain you, but more like he thought I was funny. I can laugh at myself, don't get me wrong, but not when I look like an idiot in front of Stan the Boy Wonder.
"It was BIG." I said. "I thought it would, like, sting me in the face. Right at the end of the song. Great finale, huh?"
And Stan just smiled again and went, "Yeah, I got stung by one once. It hurt really bad." He sat down next to my backpack on the stone and I sat next to him, still watching for the bee, in case he wanted a second chance to see me freak out. "Pretty song, though. You in the musical?" He asked.
"Um, yeah. That's where I was coming out of. Everyone had rides and I'm waiting for the bus."
"What is it again? The musical? I didn't really hear over the announcements."
"'You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown'." I answered. Before he could ask, I added. "I'm the little red haired girl."
And this is why I hate telling people that. Because everyone, no matter who it is, upon hearing that will say, "Aww... How cute! Do you kiss Charlie Brown?" And that's just what Stan did.
"No. I don't." I answered. "At least, probably not. Ms. Beters hasn't told me to yet, but I kind of have an impending sense of doom that she will."
"'Impending sense of doom'?" Stan laughed. "You make it sound like he's going to take out a pistol and kill you on stage!"
"No, I'm worried that my dad will see it on opening night, pull out a shotgun and kill Charlie Brown on stage."
"Oh, that kind of doom." Stan said. "Yeah, I think my mom will do the same every time I get tackled. Sorry, can't help you there." We sat there in silence for a bit, until the CAT bus pulled up across the parking lot. The CAT bus (or Citizen Area Transit) was my ride home, so I got up. To my surprise, so did Stan.
"You ride the bus?" I asked. "But you're a senior! Can't you drive?"
Stan shrugged. "My mom has the car today, so she gave me sixty cents and sent me on my way."
Not. Even. Joking. I rode home on the bus nest to STAN EVANS. Hot senior. Runningback on Varsity. (Ha! He's not the quarterback! So it’s not totally cliché!) And, when I stood up to get off, He did, too. But I crossed the street and he didn't.
Omigosh, it was beyond awesome.
Ow. Something just hit me in the back of the head. I sit in the front of class, so just about anything that gets thrown will hit me. I turn around and glare. Janet is giggling again. And flirting with Greg Simmons. Barf much? I mean, I don't normally judge people by looks. But Janet does, so what does she even see in this guy? I mean, he never even combs his hair, I doubt he showers daily, and he has this... aroma. Okay, I think that's grounds enough for me to say, Ew.
There's a paper on the ground. Must be what hit me. But why did it hurt? That's why. Some braniac put an eraser in it to make it go farther. Thanks. I really appreciate it.
There's a note. It’s from... Val. She's two rows over and four back! Nice arm, Val! What's it say?
Hey Lilly!
I saw you and Stan Evans together after softball practice! What was that all about? And after rehearsal, come to the baseball diamond. I can give you a ride home.
Val
I turn around and give Val a thumbs-up. She smiles. The bell's about to ring. Gotta go!
"Everyone, clear your desks." Mr. Hart said after the bell rang. "Test time." Cue moans and cries of "Can we use notes?" and "Wait... I thought the test was tomorrow!" So, I cleared my desk. The test was pretty easy.
Since I rode home with Val yesterday, I didn't get to see Stan. Oh, well. He said his mom just had the car that day, so he probably drove home, anyway. But I had a good time with Val. I always do.
"No way!" She yelled after I told her all about my conversation with Stan. She's Mormon, and can't date until she turns 16 in four months, but she's even more boy-crazy than I am. "Stan Evans?! You rode on the bus with Stan Evans? I'm so jealous!"
We were in the car, so her mother heard all of this. "Do your parents know you ride the bus home alone with strange boys?" She asked, looking at us in the rear-view mirror. We both were in the backseat. It’s much easier to talk to someone when they aren't craning their neck around a headrest.
"He's not a 'strange boy', Mrs. Abernathy. My parents know him. Or, my mom does, at least. He's her student aide." My mom teaches English I at our school. Everyone always asks me, "Are you Mrs. Monty's daughter?" and it gets really old.
Val's mom didn't answer that. She just went, "Hmmm..." and directed her focus on the road, much to the relief of Val and I. Mrs. Abernathy can be a scary driver if all her attention isn't on actually driving.
"Hey, have your parents taken you out driving lately?" Val asked. I got my permit a month ago, but I don't get to drive very often. I just shook my head and changed the subject back to Stan.
"He has the cutest smile, Val." I said. Val squealed, making her mom jump. I seriously thought I would die right there, but Mrs. Abernathy regained control.
"How is the play coming, Lilly?" Mrs. Abernathy asked, obviously having heard enough girl talk.
"Good." I said. I didn't want to tell her how the play was really going. Because it wasn't going too great. None of us knew our lines for the memorization deadline next Wednesday, there were a few dance moves that I just couldn't get, and- dun, dun, dunnnn- there was talk today about a kiss between Charlie Brown and a certain girl with red hair. Yeah. I might as well tell my dad to take out the shotgun right now.
Val looked at me suspiciously. "Call me later." She said as the car pulled up to my house. We both knew that was code for "Call me later, tell me more about Stan, and how is the play really going?" I nodded, said thanks to Mrs. Abernathy for the ride, and went up to the house.
I plopped down on the couch and rolled up my jeans to see the huge bruise on my knee. I'd gotten it from walking across the stage on my knees, a.k.a. one of the dance moves I just couldn't get. I was thinking about how to cushion it for my next trip across the stage when the phone rang. Nobody else was home, so I answered it.
"Hey," Came a very familiar male voice. "Is Mrs. Monty there?"
"Um, no. I think she's grocery shopping. Or maybe she's still at the school. Who is this?" My parents' attempt to teach me phone manners was all in vain. Like I was really gonna answer the phone by saying, "Monty residence, Lilly speaking. Whom may I say is calling? No, they aren't available at the moment, may I take a message? Goodbye, have a nice day." Not a chance.
"Oh. This is Stan." I almost dropped dead right there. "I just called to ask her how she wanted me to grade these papers. She sent them home with me without a key."
"Oh, uh.... well, I'll have her call you when she gets home." There was a reply on the other line, but I was too freaked out to hear actual words. Stan Evans was calling my house!!! Sure, it was to ask my mom about grading papers, but still! I managed a "Goodbye" and hung up.
Val's parents don't let her use the phone before her homework is done, but she has a computer in her room. I ran to the den and logged onto Myspace as fast as I could. I told her all about the play and about Stan calling. She replied:
ouch! that sucks about the kiss! and stan called?! AAAAHHHH!!!
I love Val. She totally gets me. But the bell is about to ring.
So, this weekend was… Wow. Let’s start at Friday after rehearsal, shall we? I was sitting on the school stone like I always do, listening to Hawk Nelson on my CD player. Yeah, I have a CD player. Not an iPod. A CD player. I’m asking for one for Christmas though. But, anyway, when I listen to Hawk Nelson, I kinda lose it. I start rocking out, mouthing along with the lyrics and bouncing around.
This is just what I was doing when, you guessed it, Stan comes up from nowhere. He surprised me, seeing as it was almost five o’clock and school gets out at 1:30. So I jumped. High. And screamed. Loud. In the process of this jumping and screaming, my CD player flew out of my lap and pulled the headphones out of my ears. It crashed to the ground, the top opened, and out popped “Smile, It’s the End of the World”.
I ran after the CD, which was now rolling away, and Stan followed. When I got it he looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh.
“Sorry.” He managed. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re a very jumpy person, do you know that?”
“Only when you’re around.” I blurted. Yeah. So, I did my best to recover by sticking my tongue out (going for the adult approach) and said, “Maybe you’re a jinx.”
We talked for a while, and then my cell phone rang. It was my mom. She’d gone home early today, but I didn’t know why.
“Honey?” She asked. I hate it when she calls me that. “I went home early today. Your father was in a car accident.”
“WHAT?!” I screamed.
“Don’t worry, he’s fine. Well, mostly.”
“What do you mean, ‘Mostly’? Am I coming home to a vegetable as a father?”
“He just broke his leg. I tried calling you sooner, but your phone was off.”
My dad broke his leg. My dad broke his leg. My dad is in construction. He drives those big yellow machines that gave me nightmares until I was eight. How does someone like that break their leg?
So, she went on for another minute: “Bye, love you, honey. Do you want Mac and Cheese for dinner? If you see Stan on the bus, ask him if he can mow the lawn tomorrow. Bye.” Then it was my turn: “Yeah, sounds fine, I’ll ask him, and don’t let dad take too much Tylonol. Bye.”
“What was that all about?” Stan asked.
“My dad broke his leg in a car accident. Oh, and my mom wants to know if you can mow our lawn tomorrow.”
“He broke his leg? Ouch. And sure, I’ll be there. Nine okay?” I nodded. A car honked. “Oh, that’s my stepdad. See ya!”
I ended up riding the bus home alone, after all. When I got home, I called Val and told her she had to spend the night because Stan would be coming over in the morning. She squealed and said yes. She came over and we had a good time. We watched movies and threw popcorn at the screen, lip-synced to Reliant K while dancing around dressed in my old Halloween costumes, and got yelled at for making too much noise. We went to bed sometime after midnight.
The next morning, we woke up and Val made pancakes (I can’t cook, but like I said: she’s a Mormon girl. They can cook anything) while I made chocolate milk for everyone. Stan came at nine o’clock, just like he’d said. Val and I made cookies and lemonade after he was done and we all watched TV for a while, and then Stan had to go. Val and I played some board games in my room and giggled about my new lawnmower until she had to leave.
On Sunday, we went to church and everyone flipped about my dad’s leg. All the old ladies asked if he was hurt on the job. There was one lady, in particular, who asked “Was it that boss of yours that made you work two Sundays ago?” She said it like she was going to go break my dad’s boss’ face. I love the old ladies in my church. Actually, old Baptist ladies in general. They’re hilarious.
But Sunday kinda paled in comparison to Friday and Saturday. Not that I didn’t enjoy church. I did. Our pastor is pretty funny. He’s from Texas, and has this accent and has all these great stories from stupid things he did as a kid.
Uh, Mr. Hart just noticed I’m not writing notes on Geometry. He he. Hello, Mr. Hart.
“Um, yes, I am writing something concerning Geometry.”
“Just pay attention, okay, Lilly?”
To which I just kind of nod and pretend to get a new sheet of paper out for notes. And now he’s passing out an assignment. I’ll try to figure this out.
So, I came into class today and guess who was sitting at my desk? Janet. I knew this didn’t bode well and dropped my backpack at her feet and sat on the desk, just staring at her.
“Can I help you?” I asked. “Or are you confused?”
“You’re in the play.” It wasn’t really a question, but I nodded anyway. “I hear you’re gonna kiss Craig Williams.” She said this very loud, so I had a feeling she was trying to embarrass me. I nodded and got ready for battle. I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. She seemed to notice and went on. “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”
“No, I haven’t, Janet.” I say, because I haven’t. I’ve never even been on a date. My dad won’t let me and I don’t really mind. I’m only fifteen, anyways. Before she could make fun of me for it, I asked, “Have you?”
“Of course.” She snorted. “Plenty.”
Luckily, Val got the idea of where I was going and muttered something to the effect of “Skank” and that got Janet out of my seat.
I’m not exactly proud of this, but I have a gift for making attempts like Janet’s backfire. I just take the situation and turn it around, and it normally works. Well, it at least gets the focus off of me. It makes the other girl really mad, though.
So yes, it’s official. I have to kiss Charlie Brown (a.k.a. Craig Williams). We’re going to start rehearsing with the kiss today. I’m very worried about this. Like I said, I’ve never kissed a boy, so I don’t have the slightest clue what to do, besides pucker my lips. And it’s also the thought of kissing Craig Williams. Craig’s a nice guy, and all, but I just don’t like him that way. I’ve known him forever. We’ve gone to church together since we were babies and have always lived on the same street. What if it’s like kissing my brother? What if it’s really awkward, and then we can never be friends again?
I know I’m being a drama queen. But I don’t care. This is going to be weird. I have to make sure I have breath mints. There is no way I am kissing anyone with bad breath.
Ow. Something just hit me. It’s a note. From Val. We really need to work something out so that she isn’t always chucking things at my head to pass a note.
Hey! That was great, how you got Janet. I’m glad I caught on, otherwise things could have taken an ugly turn. And I can’t believe you’re getting your first kiss before I do! Ha, ha. Sorry about that. Tell me all about it later.
Val
Val hates Janet. I mean, she’s not my favorite person, either, but we generally leave each other alone. Unless I get in her way, she just ignores me. Except for today, of course. She’ll never go out of her way to bother me.
But Val is another story. She’s a jock, and Janet is a cheerleader. She made Varsity as a freshman. Girl jocks and cheerleaders have this rivalry. It’s almost as bad as the drama club and the student council (don’t even go there). Val doesn’t think cheerleading constitutes as a sport, and everyone knows it, so Janet is always on the lookout for ways to torture Val. I don’t think Val is sorry at all about calling Janet a skank.
I turned around and gave Val a big, cheesy thumbs-up, but in the process of this, I saw Janet. You know how cartoon characters always look kind of funny when they’re mad, with steam coming out of their ears and all? That’s the complete opposite of what Janet looks like right now. She looks scary. Really scary. She’s just staring at me. I almost expect her to bore a hole into the back of my head.
Maybe I should watch my back.
Oh. My. Goodness. You will never believe what happened yesterday. You know how I said we were going to start rehearsing the kiss yesterday? Well, Craig stayed home sick. Strep throat, we think. This could be tragic, seeing as we only have a week until opening night.
Back to what happened, though. We couldn’t work the kiss, or anything else with Charlie Brown, so we kind of cut rehearsal short. I decided I’d go watch Val’s softball game. I told her I couldn’t make it, and I was really bummed, because I’ve missed every game this season because of rehearsal. I’d get to surprise her, because even though she told me it was cool that I missed it, I could tell she was kind of upset.
I went down to the field and you’ll never believe who I saw. STAN EVANS!!!!
I sat down next to him on the bleachers.
“Hey!” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“My little sister’s the shortstop.” He smiled.
Oh, that’s right… I thought. I’ve seen her around school wearing her team shirt. She’s in most of my classes, too.
“What about you?”
“Hmm?” I asked. “Oh, my best friend’s the pitcher.” I pointed to Val, who had just thrown a fastball.
“Strike one!” The umpire yelled.
“So, how’s the play?” Stan asked. “Any updates on the impending sense of doom?” He must have noticed my blank look. “The kiss.”
“It’s been decided.” I put on my most drama queen-ish tone. “We shall kiss.”
Stan laughed. “Yeah, that’s right. Natalie told me.” Natalie is his sister. “She also told me you got that Janet girl pretty good.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Val.” I said proudly. “It always helps to have someone on the outside of the fight.”
“Strike two!”
“What is with Janet, anyways?” Stan asked. “She is such a witch.”
“For lack of a better word.” I mumbled.
Stan laughed. I noticed I was really starting to like making him laugh. I think that the insects got that vibe, because just at that moment, a huge black bee came up and landed right on my shoulder. My eyes got really wide and I pursed my lips so that I wouldn’t scream. And, wouldn’t you know it, Stan laughed and brushed the bee away.
“There are a lot of bees around this year.” He commented. “I’ve never seen so many around the school.”
“Or around me.” I added. Seriously, every time I go outside, a bee charges me. In PE the other day, we were doing a lap around the tennis courts and a bee came right up in my face. I ducked and screamed and kind of fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“Strike three!”
Stan and I started cheering “Go Val!” and she looked over and saw us. Her face totally lit up.
“She seems happy to see you.”
“Yeah, I’m totally glad Craig got strep throat.”
“What?”
So, I explained everything to him. After that, he went and got us hot dogs. I even tried to pay him, but he said No, it was on him.
We ended up winning the game, naturally. While I admit that too much of the school’s attention is on mainly sports, we are pretty darn good. Especially our football and girls’ softball. Coincidence? Possibly.
I hugged Val and told her why I had gotten to come to the game, after all. She had an after-game party to go to, so I started to dig sixty cents out of my backpack when Stan said, “Hey, I’ll give you a ride.”
Not. Even. Joking. Stan Evans gave me a ride home. STAN EVANS gave me a ride home. He drives this really old GMC. I think it’s a 1950, or something. He says he restored it with his dad a few years ago. It looks really cool, actually. It’s this metallic dark blue color. When he put a Hawk Nelson CD in the stereo, I thought I would die.
“You like Hawk Nelson?!”
“Yeah! They rock!”
We sang along with them the whole way home. When he pulled up to my house, he actually walked around the front and opened the door for me. Didn’t I say he was cute?
WHAT?!?! Mr. Hart is holding last Thursday’s test in his hands and saying that since we all did so bad that we are having another test tomorrow!
It’s on a Thursday, too. This totally sucks. But I’m still kind of buzzing from yesterday.
Okay. The test was totally easy. So was the last one, which makes me wonder if I’m doing it wrong, since I apparently bombed it along with everyone else. Mr. Hart hasn’t passed the tests back yet.
Craig was at rehearsal yesterday, but, seeing as he’s still recovering from strep throat, he couldn’t sing. Or kiss a certain little red haired girl, because the director, Ms. Beters, doesn’t want me to get sick, too. So we have put off my first kiss for yet another day.
Janet hasn’t forgotten about me embarrassing her yesterday. I’ve been hearing rumors of things she’s said to her friends, and I’m starting to worry. The rumors cover everything from hair dye to weed whackers. Yeah. I went to my locker and heard the words Janet, Lilly, and weed whacker and kind of freaked and left in a hurry. I have a feeling this could get messy.
I saw Stan on the way to first period today. He says he’s coming to the play! He said he’d only come next Thursday if I came to the game next Friday. Football is actually kind of fun to watch, if you know someone on the team, so I agreed. My mom is going to take me, since Stan is her student aid and she hasn’t gone to any games to support him yet. That, and the fact that I need a ride. She might even let me drive!
Speaking of driving, my mom took me out driving yesterday. My dad was zonked out on painkillers, so we left a note and went driving around the neighborhood. She says that if I want to be allowed to drive to the football game, at night, during a high traffic time, on a major road, and even on that dangerous turn on Sahara, I have to get some driving time in. I have no problem with this. I am a bit worried about that turn, though. Kids like to race down that road on the way to and from school and they crash. There’s an accident almost once a year. I don’t plan on speeding, though, so I should be okay.
I may be getting sick. Everyone in the play is sick, even the techies. This is really freaking out the choir teacher, Mrs. Amy, who is in charge of all the singing in the production, while Ms. Beters is the technical and acting director. Mrs. Amy’s last name is Neaves, but she prefers Mrs. Amy. At rehearsal yesterday, she gave everyone a handful of cough drops and said to tell her immediately if we ran out, even if it was during school. We’re supposed to come to the choir room during passing period and she’ll write us a late pass, because the performing arts hallway is kind of out of the way of the normal paths to take to class, unless if you’re going to PE or a portable.
Mr. Hart is correcting the tests and making this tsk noise and shaking his head. That can’t be good.
My life is officially over. I kind of failed to mention to my parents about the kiss, and my mom found out. It must have been from one of her students in the cast. She’s only got two kids from the cast, so I’ll find out who told her. But anyways, she pulled me into her room during passing period and started talking to me, right there in her room, which she must have thought private, not considering the forty freshman pouring in through the door.
“You’re kissing Craig Williams?” She asked, not quietly. “When was this decided?”
“Just recently.” I answered evasively and tried to make a break for it. But she grabbed my backpack and pulled me back to her. No escape.
“How recently?”
“A couple of days ago.”
She freaked. She started going on and on about our rules for dating.
“But it’s just a kiss! And we’re acting. It doesn’t mean anything.” I made a lame attempt at getting out of this conversation, or at least postpone it until she could ground me in the privacy of my own home. No such luck.
“Then why didn’t you tell us if it didn’t mean anything?”
Good one. Point for Mom. I looked at the clock. I was definitely going to be late for first period.
“Go to class. We’ll finish this conversation later.”
There it was again. The impending sense of doom. And the worst part of it was Stan heard everything! He’s her student aid that period. Ugh. My life is over.
What’s this? Mr. Hart passing something back? Alert the media, it’s the first thing he’s passed back graded all quarter! Please be the test, please oh please…
Homework. From last week. Geez, where did the homework from the beginning of the quarter go? I don’t get this. I got a 100 percent on it. How does someone who gets 100 percents on homework bomb a test with the same problems on it? Ugh. The perfect topper for a crappy day, and its only third period.
Did I mention that we have to run the mile today in PE? The mile! In twelve minutes or less! Stupid presidential fitness exam. I’d like to see the president run four laps around the track in twelve minutes or less. That’s three minutes per lap. In 100 plus degree weather. Do that without having an asthma attack, Mr. President.
Ow. Something just hit me in the head. A note. Val’s pointing toward Natalie.
Hey Lilly,
I was wondering, would you like to come to my birthday party? Its tonight, and kind of short notice, but my parents are trying to surprise me and Stan was supposed to give your mom an invitation to give to you. The party starts at 7, and you need to bring a sleeping bag. Oops, I forgot to say that already. It’s a sleepover. Can you come? Write back!
Natalie
I wrote back:
Sure! Sounds fun! But why do you know if your parents want to surprise you?
Lilly
I’m waiting for a reply right now. This is kind of funny, because Natalie and I have every class together except for fifth period. I have choir and she has Spanish. But we’ve never really been friends. I guess she thought otherwise. I’m glad she incited me. Ow. Man, Val and I really need to work out a better way to get a note to me. But I guess if we passed it person to person, Janet might intercept it.
My parents are not good at keeping secrets. So you’ll come? You don’t have to get a present or anything, since you just found out. See you there!
Natalie
Oh crap. I just remembered that my mom will probably ground me when I get home from rehearsal. I’ll write back to her.
OH CRAP! Mr. Hart caught me writing the note and took it. Stupid assigned seating arrangement. Who would have thought that Lilly Monty would wind up front row center in an alphabetized seating chart? No. No. NO! MR. HART, IF YOU READ THAT NOTE OUT LOUD TO THE CLASS-
[b] Okay, crisis over. He just threw it away and gave me an annoyed look. I’m used to that. I bother my teachers a lot. I guess it wouldn’t really have mattered if he’d read it aloud, anyways. There wasn’t anything...