Read Online Breaking Up Is Really, Really Hard to Do by Natalie Standiford - Free Book Online
Authors: Natalie Standiford
Tags: JUV014000
Ads: Link
school?
—Lara
Where is this going?
she wondered as she sent her e-mail off to him. How would it end? She could hardly stand to think about it—yet she couldn't stop thinking about it.
“Can't anybody in this school write a decent poem?” Ramona complained. Lina sat in the
Inchworm
office with her and the other members of the Dan Shulman Cult, Siobhan Gallagher, Maggie Schwartzman, and Chandra Bledsoe. Together they made up the entire editorial staff of the magazine, except for Dan Shulman, Faculty Advisor. Ramona had invited Lina to sit in with them and read through some submissions.
Ramona and her friends all wore thin ties of various patterns knotted around their necks. It was their cult symbol, indicating their worship of Dan. Lina hated the ties at first, but they were beginning to grow on her. Still, she'd never wear one herself. It was too stupid. She wondered if Dan had noticed them yet, and if so, what he thought it was supposed to mean. She wished she could ask him about it in an e-mail.
“Listen to this,” Ramona said, tapping her ghostly white cheek with a green glittery nail. “‘Keith Carter's Wild Ride. I'm Keith Carter, that's my name, I ride my motorbike to national fame—’”
“Ugh. Reject,” Chandra said. She'd drawn a tiny pentagram between her eyes in red ink.
“Here's a good one.” Siobhan held up a piece of torn notebook paper covered in purple scrawl. “‘My so-called best friend/has abandoned me/she left a hole in me that hurts/like an infected tongue piercing/crusted over—’”
“Gross,” Lina said.
“But vivid,” Ramona said. “Put it in the maybe pile.”
“So far we have two maybes, tons of nos, and five yeses, all of which were written by us,” Maggie said.
“If we don't get enough material, we won't publish this issue,” Ramona said. “I won't publish motorbike epics just because we don't have anything better.” She glanced at Lina. “You're quiet today.”
Lina shrugged. “I'm just listening and learning from the pros.”
“Sure,” Ramona said. “I know you. You think we're idiots. There must be something else on your mind.”
Lina stretched her mouth into the most convincing smile she could muster. “No, really. Nothing on my mind. See? Empty.” She knocked on her head for emphasis. Ramona would die if she knew about “Beauregard.” An accidental discovery like the one Lina had made was the Holy Grail for the Cult, second only to getting Dan to profess his love for one or more of them. To this end they cast numerous spells on him and performed ceremonies and rituals meant to capture his heart, with meager results. Certainly nothing to rival a full-fledged, intimate e-mail correspondence with Dan.
Sometimes Lina was tempted to tell Ramona about it. She knew Ramona would understand in a way that Holly and Mads never could. Holly and Mads thought that writing to Beauregard was funny, a kick. But to Lina it was almost like a real love affair, and Ramona was the only other person in the world who could appreciate it.
But Lina knew she couldn't tell Ramona. She couldn't trust Ramona not to give her away, for one thing. After all, Ramona loved Dan, too, and she might get jealous.
“Does Dan ever have a say in which poems you publish?” Lina asked. “I mean, he's a guy. Maybe he likes motorbike epics.”
Ramona made a face. “Are you crazy? Dan likes what we like.”
“How do you know?” Lina asked.
“We know,” Ramona said.
“We can see him in our crystal ball,” Maggie said. She jolted in her seat as Ramona kicked her under the table. “What? Well, Ramona can, anyway.”
“Crystal ball?” Lina asked.
“Well, we're
trying
to see him,” Ramona admitted. “We have a crystal ball, and we look into it. Sometimes I swear I see him riding his bike or buying coffee.”
Lina glanced at the other girls, who wouldn't meet her eye. Nobody saw any such thing, she knew. But they were all going along with it, humoring Ramona.
“You
—Lara
Where is this going?
she wondered as she sent her e-mail off to him. How would it end? She could hardly stand to think about it—yet she couldn't stop thinking about it.
“Can't anybody in this school write a decent poem?” Ramona complained. Lina sat in the
Inchworm
office with her and the other members of the Dan Shulman Cult, Siobhan Gallagher, Maggie Schwartzman, and Chandra Bledsoe. Together they made up the entire editorial staff of the magazine, except for Dan Shulman, Faculty Advisor. Ramona had invited Lina to sit in with them and read through some submissions.
Ramona and her friends all wore thin ties of various patterns knotted around their necks. It was their cult symbol, indicating their worship of Dan. Lina hated the ties at first, but they were beginning to grow on her. Still, she'd never wear one herself. It was too stupid. She wondered if Dan had noticed them yet, and if so, what he thought it was supposed to mean. She wished she could ask him about it in an e-mail.
“Listen to this,” Ramona said, tapping her ghostly white cheek with a green glittery nail. “‘Keith Carter's Wild Ride. I'm Keith Carter, that's my name, I ride my motorbike to national fame—’”
“Ugh. Reject,” Chandra said. She'd drawn a tiny pentagram between her eyes in red ink.
“Here's a good one.” Siobhan held up a piece of torn notebook paper covered in purple scrawl. “‘My so-called best friend/has abandoned me/she left a hole in me that hurts/like an infected tongue piercing/crusted over—’”
“Gross,” Lina said.
“But vivid,” Ramona said. “Put it in the maybe pile.”
“So far we have two maybes, tons of nos, and five yeses, all of which were written by us,” Maggie said.
“If we don't get enough material, we won't publish this issue,” Ramona said. “I won't publish motorbike epics just because we don't have anything better.” She glanced at Lina. “You're quiet today.”
Lina shrugged. “I'm just listening and learning from the pros.”
“Sure,” Ramona said. “I know you. You think we're idiots. There must be something else on your mind.”
Lina stretched her mouth into the most convincing smile she could muster. “No, really. Nothing on my mind. See? Empty.” She knocked on her head for emphasis. Ramona would die if she knew about “Beauregard.” An accidental discovery like the one Lina had made was the Holy Grail for the Cult, second only to getting Dan to profess his love for one or more of them. To this end they cast numerous spells on him and performed ceremonies and rituals meant to capture his heart, with meager results. Certainly nothing to rival a full-fledged, intimate e-mail correspondence with Dan.
Sometimes Lina was tempted to tell Ramona about it. She knew Ramona would understand in a way that Holly and Mads never could. Holly and Mads thought that writing to Beauregard was funny, a kick. But to Lina it was almost like a real love affair, and Ramona was the only other person in the world who could appreciate it.
But Lina knew she couldn't tell Ramona. She couldn't trust Ramona not to give her away, for one thing. After all, Ramona loved Dan, too, and she might get jealous.
“Does Dan ever have a say in which poems you publish?” Lina asked. “I mean, he's a guy. Maybe he likes motorbike epics.”
Ramona made a face. “Are you crazy? Dan likes what we like.”
“How do you know?” Lina asked.
“We know,” Ramona said.
“We can see him in our crystal ball,” Maggie said. She jolted in her seat as Ramona kicked her under the table. “What? Well, Ramona can, anyway.”
“Crystal ball?” Lina asked.
“Well, we're
trying
to see him,” Ramona admitted. “We have a crystal ball, and we look into it. Sometimes I swear I see him riding his bike or buying coffee.”
Lina glanced at the other girls, who wouldn't meet her eye. Nobody saw any such thing, she knew. But they were all going along with it, humoring Ramona.
“You
Similar Books
