eyes.
Â
In response to your question, I donât actually go to school. In theory, my mother is teaching me, but in fact I mostly read books (history, higher math, and graphic novels when I can get away with it) and play the piano. No, I must confess that piano is my percussion instrument of choice, not your beloved drums, but I am pretty good with keyboards. And certainly better than I am with turntables.
Â
I feel I have the advantage, having listened to your music for two years, and you (presumably?) have never listened to mine. The link below will take you to my website, which does have a couple of MP3s, but not a great deal more. Technological know-how is the one area of geekery at which I fail completely.
Â
If youâre not ready to run away screaming, give me a call. My number is LOVES-96. This is merely a coincidence that someone else pointed out to me. Really.
Â
âLyman.
Kiki printed out three copies to take to school, and while her printer spit them out she visited Lymanâs website. It was low-key, not a mess of Flash sequences and multiple frames like the Temporary Insanity website that RGB put together. She could already hear her mother down the hall, rattling her car keys ominously, so Kiki just downloaded the three tracks to her iPod without listening first. There would be plenty of time for that during homeroom. She threw on a vintage Blackhearts T-shirt, washed so often it was practically transparent, on top of a lacy black tank top and a pair of skinny jeans.
âForget you, Mark,â she muttered, painting her lips the brilliant red of Hearts Afire.
âAre you ready?â her mother called from downstairs.
âFor anything.â She threw her copies of Lymanâs e-mail into her bag, along with her iPod, and ran for the stairs.
Â
âDude,â Jasmine said in an awed voice, looking up from Lymanâs e-mail. It was the first thing anyone had said since Kiki had handed out copies of his letter. She was the only one who had even touched her lunch, even though the break was already half over.
The Pussycat Posse sprawled on the battered sofas of the Senior Common Room, confident that no one would bother them. It was on the fourth floor, and had been a storage room until the student council had it converted for student use. It still smelled like old books, though, and the football field was a better place for hanging out as long as the weather held.
Kiki felt a little silly, working so hard to keep Lyman a secret from everyone but the Pussycats. Mark knew all about Jason Wrightman, and she knew about Sarah Jane, the girl from his parentsâ church, and everyone else Mark had so much as kissed. But this was differentâKiki had always known that Jason would never replace Mark in her heart. Even though she figured that Lyman would probably be all wrong for herâif he was that great, he wouldnât be looking for love online, right?âshe wanted to give it a real shot. And, more important, Kiki didnât want Mark to think that she was so desperate for a date that she had to find one online, even if it was true.
âWhat do we think?â Kiki asked, taking another bite of her leftover lo mein.
Jasmine made a horrible face. âWe think that Lyman sounds like a freak.â
âSpeak for yourself, Jazz,â Sasha said, folding her copy of Lymanâs e-mail into a paper airplane. âI think he sounds cool.â
âHe sounds interesting ,â Camille corrected her. âBut interesting also means weird. What do you think?â
âWell . . .â Everyone paused, waiting for Kiki to say something. The silence went on and on, so Sasha threw her paper airplane at Jasmine, and Jasmine retaliated by throwing some of her microwave popcorn back at her.
âI think he sounds distracting,â Kiki announced before the food fight could get out of hand. âAnd I want to be distracted.â
âHe sounds like
Â
In response to your question, I donât actually go to school. In theory, my mother is teaching me, but in fact I mostly read books (history, higher math, and graphic novels when I can get away with it) and play the piano. No, I must confess that piano is my percussion instrument of choice, not your beloved drums, but I am pretty good with keyboards. And certainly better than I am with turntables.
Â
I feel I have the advantage, having listened to your music for two years, and you (presumably?) have never listened to mine. The link below will take you to my website, which does have a couple of MP3s, but not a great deal more. Technological know-how is the one area of geekery at which I fail completely.
Â
If youâre not ready to run away screaming, give me a call. My number is LOVES-96. This is merely a coincidence that someone else pointed out to me. Really.
Â
âLyman.
Kiki printed out three copies to take to school, and while her printer spit them out she visited Lymanâs website. It was low-key, not a mess of Flash sequences and multiple frames like the Temporary Insanity website that RGB put together. She could already hear her mother down the hall, rattling her car keys ominously, so Kiki just downloaded the three tracks to her iPod without listening first. There would be plenty of time for that during homeroom. She threw on a vintage Blackhearts T-shirt, washed so often it was practically transparent, on top of a lacy black tank top and a pair of skinny jeans.
âForget you, Mark,â she muttered, painting her lips the brilliant red of Hearts Afire.
âAre you ready?â her mother called from downstairs.
âFor anything.â She threw her copies of Lymanâs e-mail into her bag, along with her iPod, and ran for the stairs.
Â
âDude,â Jasmine said in an awed voice, looking up from Lymanâs e-mail. It was the first thing anyone had said since Kiki had handed out copies of his letter. She was the only one who had even touched her lunch, even though the break was already half over.
The Pussycat Posse sprawled on the battered sofas of the Senior Common Room, confident that no one would bother them. It was on the fourth floor, and had been a storage room until the student council had it converted for student use. It still smelled like old books, though, and the football field was a better place for hanging out as long as the weather held.
Kiki felt a little silly, working so hard to keep Lyman a secret from everyone but the Pussycats. Mark knew all about Jason Wrightman, and she knew about Sarah Jane, the girl from his parentsâ church, and everyone else Mark had so much as kissed. But this was differentâKiki had always known that Jason would never replace Mark in her heart. Even though she figured that Lyman would probably be all wrong for herâif he was that great, he wouldnât be looking for love online, right?âshe wanted to give it a real shot. And, more important, Kiki didnât want Mark to think that she was so desperate for a date that she had to find one online, even if it was true.
âWhat do we think?â Kiki asked, taking another bite of her leftover lo mein.
Jasmine made a horrible face. âWe think that Lyman sounds like a freak.â
âSpeak for yourself, Jazz,â Sasha said, folding her copy of Lymanâs e-mail into a paper airplane. âI think he sounds cool.â
âHe sounds interesting ,â Camille corrected her. âBut interesting also means weird. What do you think?â
âWell . . .â Everyone paused, waiting for Kiki to say something. The silence went on and on, so Sasha threw her paper airplane at Jasmine, and Jasmine retaliated by throwing some of her microwave popcorn back at her.
âI think he sounds distracting,â Kiki announced before the food fight could get out of hand. âAnd I want to be distracted.â
âHe sounds like
Similar Books
