'So who is he?' Tina asked, all eagerly, as she packed up her eyelash curler and lip-liner. 'The guy you like?'

I went, 'It doesn't matter. Besides, the whole thing is completely futile. He sort of has a girlfriend, I think.'

Tina whipped her head around to look at me, making her thick black braid smack her in her own face, which is chubby, but

in a good way.

'It's Michael, isn't it?' she demanded, grabbing my arm again. She was holding on so tight, it hurt.

My instinctive reaction, of course, was to deny it. In fact, I even opened my mouth, all set to have the word 'no' come out of it.

But then I was like, Why? Why should I deny it to Tina? Tina wouldn't tell anyone. And she might be able to help me.

So instead of saying No, I took a deep breath and said, 'If you tell anyone, I'll kill you, understand? KILL YOU.'

Tina did a strange thing then. She let go of my arm and started jumping up and down in a circle.

'I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,' she said as she jumped. Then she stopped jumping and grabbed my arm again. 'Oh, Mia,

I always thought you two would make the cutest couple. I mean, I like Kenny and all, but he's, you know.' She wrinkled up

her nose. 'No Michael.'

If I had thought it felt strange last night telling my dad the truth about my feelings for Michael, that was nothing — NOTHING - compared to how it felt to be telling someone my own age. The fact that Tina hadn't burst out laughing or gone, 'Yeah, right,'

in a sarcastic way meant more to me than I ever would have expected.

And the fact that she seemed to understand - even applaud - my feelings for Michael made me want to fling my arms around her and give her a great big hug.

Only there was no time for that since the bell was about to ring.

Instead, I gushed, 'Really? You really don't think it's stupid?'

'Duh,' Tina said. 'Michael is hot. And he's a senior.' Then she looked troubled. 'But what about Kenny? And Judith?'

'I know,' I said, my shoulders slumping in a manner that would have caused Grandmere to rap me on the back of the head,

if she'd seen them. 'Tina, I don't know what to do.'

Tina's dark eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

'I think I read a book where this happened once,' she said. 'Love's Tender Storm, it was called, I think. If I could just remember how they resolved everything—'

But before she could remember, the bell rang. We were both totally late to class.

But, if you ask me, it was worth it. Because now, at least, I don't have to worry alone. I have somebody else worrying with me.




Monday, December 7, Gifted and Talented


Lunch was a disaster.

Considering that everybody in the entire school seems to know, in the minutest detail, exactly what I've been doing -or not doing - with my tongue lately, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. But it was even worse than I could have imagined.

That's because I ran into Michael at the salad bar. I was creating my usual chickpea and pinto bean pyramid when I saw him headed for the burger grill (despite my best efforts, both Moscovitzes remain stubbornly carnivorous).

Seriously, all I did was say 'Fine' when he asked how I was doing. You know, on account of how last time he saw me I was bleeding from the mouth (what a nice picture that must have been. I am so glad that I have been able to maintain an

appearance of dignity and beauty at all times in front of the man I love).

Anyway, then I asked him, just to be polite, you know, how his dentist appointment went. It's not my fault, what happened next.

Which was that Michael started telling me about how he'd had to have this cavity filled and that his lips were still numb from

the novocaine. Seeing as how I have experienced a certain amount of sensation-deadening, what with my gouged tongue, I could relate to this, so I just sort of, you know, looked at Michael's lips while he was talking, which I have never really done before. I mean, I have looked at other parts of Michael's body (particularly when he comes into the kitchen in the morning

with no shirt on, like he does every time I sleep over at Lilly's). But I've never really looked at his lips. You know. Up close.

Michael actually has very nice lips. Not thin lips, like mine. I don't know if you should say this about a boy's lips, but Michael's look like if you kissed them, they'd be very soft.

It was while I was noticing this about Michael's lips that the very bad thing happened: I was looking at them, you know, and wondering if they'd be soft to kiss and, as I looked, I sort of actually pictured us kissing, you know, in my head. And right then I got this very warm feeling - the one they talk about in Tina's romance novels - and RIGHT THEN was when Kenny went by on his way to get his usual lunch, Coke and an ice-cream sandwich.

I know Kenny can't read my mind - if he could, he totally. would have broken up with me by now - but maybe he caught some hint as to what I was thinking, and that's why he didn't say 'hi' back when Michael and I said 'hi'.

Well, that and the whole part where I said Um, OK after he said he loved me.

Kenny must have known something was up, if my face was anywhere near as red-hot as it felt. Maybe that's why he didn't

say 'hi' back. Because I was looking so guilty. I'd certainly felt guilty. I mean, there I was, looking at another guy's lips and wondering what it would be like to kiss them, and my boyfriend goes walking by.

I am so going to bad-girl hell when I die.

You know what I wish? I wish everyone could read my mind. Because then Kenny would never have asked me out. He'd

have known I don't think of him that way. And Lilly wouldn't make fun of me for not letting Kenny kiss me. She would know the reason I don't is that I'm in love with someone else.

The bad part is, she'd know who that someone else is.

And that someone probably wouldn't even speak to me again, because it's totally uncool for a senior to go out with a freshman. Especially one who can't go anywhere without a bodyguard.

Besides, I'm almost positive he's going out with Judith Gershner, because after he came back from the grill, he went and sat down next to her.

So that settles that.

I wish I were leaving for Genovia tomorrow instead of in two weeks.






Monday; December 7, trench

In spite of that disastrous incident at lunch, I had a pretty good time in Gifted and Talented. In fact, it was almost like old

times again. I mean, before we all started going out with each other and everyone became so obsessed with the inner

workings of my mouth, and all that.

It was really nice. Mrs. Hill spent the whole class period in the teachers' lounge across the hall, yelling at American Express

on the phone, leaving us free to do what we usually do during her class . . . whatever we wanted. For instance, those of us who, like Lilly's boyfriend Boris, wanted to work on our individual projects (Boris is learning to play some new sonata on his violin) which is what Gifted and Talented class is supposedly for, did so.

Those of us, however, like Lilly and me, who did not want to work on our individual projects (mine is studying for Algebra; Lilly's is working on her cable access TV show) did not.

This was especially satisfying because Lilly had completely forgotten about the whole kissing thing between Kenny and me. The reason for this is that now she's mad at Mrs Spears, her Honours English teacher, who shot down her term paper proposal.

It really was unfair of Mrs Spears to turn it down, because it was actually very well thought out and quite creative. Here is a copy of it I made:


How to Survive High School

by Lilly Moscovitz


Having spent the past two months locked into that institution of secondary education commonly referred to as high school, I feel that I am a qualified authority on the subject. From pep rallies to morning announcements, I have observed high school life and all of its complexities. Sometime in the next four years I will be granted my freedom from this festering hellhole, and then I will publish my carefully compiled High School Survival Guide.

Little did my peers and teachers know that as they went about their daily routines, I was recording their activities for study by future generations. With my handy guide, every ninth grader's sojourn in high school can be a little more fruitful. Students of the future will learn that the way to settle their differences with their peers is not through violence, but through the sale of a really scathing screenplay - featuring characters based on those very individuals who tormented them all those years - to a major Hollywood movie studio. That, not a Molotov cocktail, is the path to true glory.

Here, for your reading pleasure, are a few examples of the topics I will explore in 'How to Survive High School', by Lilly Moscovitz:

1. High School Romance: Or, I cannot open my locker because two oversexed adolescents are leaning up against it, making out.

2. Cafeteria food: Can corndogs legally be listed as a meat product?

3. How to communicate with the subhuman individuals who populate the hallways.

4. Guidance Counsellors: Who do they think they're kidding?

5. Get Ahead by Forging: The Art of the Hall Pass.




Does that sound good, or what? Now look what Mrs Spears had to say about it:


Lilly:  Sorry as I am to hear that your experience thus far at AEHS has not been a positive one, I am afraid I am going to have to make it worse by asking you to find another topic