Ouch, sux about your sign—but friends in high places are so key. There’s a girl in my school (she’s a junior) whose Dad owns part of the Yankees and oh my god does she get away with everything. Her name’s Kiki Capidis and everyone calls her Sneaky Kiki, cuz she’s endlessly getting out of stuff, like gym, study hall, oral reports, passing in papers on time, you name it, honestly, I’m not sure why she even bothers showing up for school … I don’t think she graced us once with her presence last year to partake in the lowly ritual of our cafeteria lunch. Kiki way prefers to snarf croissants at Bonsigneur or a gourmand pasta at Café Buon Gusto. Her lunch money is more than my clothing allowance.
Last year, Kiki took this guy Dylan Easterby to a freshman mixer when he was only in seventh grade and everyone talked about it for days. But that’s how Sneaky Kiki rolls—she doesn’t care what anyone thinks, and she figured out long ago she’s never really going to get in trouble for anything. The girl does not know the word Consequence.
Kiki loves to stand out and be “special” whatever that means, which I’d say is the dead opposite of my dilemma—and, I am guessing, yours, too Vlad. Not that I would win the Nancy Drew Award for my knife-sharp powers of deduction, but I sense that you and I have a twinge more in common that just Debate Club. You hit it on-the-nose (snout?!) about Pete—he’s not one hundred percent, total double-helix human DNA. Even though he has yet to full-on confess it, I do think that’s why we started hanging out back in middle school. Pete just wasn’t part of the regular pack.
And neither are you, right?
Guess you can feel me skating around the issue, it’s hard to commit personal information to a note. Once said, it can never be unsaid. But I will tell you this. I don’t eat all-raw because I love it. It’s because I need to. And unlike Madamoiselle Kiki Capidis, if I ever got caught out disobeying the rules, the repercussions would be major. For me, school is all about trying to blend in, to be counted but discounted … if someone scrutinized me too closely, I might strike them as very, very different.
Any of this strike a chord with you??
In other news, I am taking “Six Weeks to Play Clarinet Like a Pro.” I found this old, not-too-banged-up clarinet in a thrift shop, and the course is online… so far, I sound like a bullfrog with arthritis.
But I’m into it …
Write back, Cutie.