Snark and Circumstance (Novella) - By Stephanie Wardrop Page 0,5
the kind of boy you would have been crazy about, what with his starched polo shirt and his scuffless docksiders and all, but . . . he’s really . . .” I struggle to find the right word and settle on “obnoxious,” even though that’s not quite right.
She nods, bites her lip for a second, and closes the lid on the garbage.
“Just promise me—again—that you’ll try harder,” she says. “Maybe not with Michael, but with someone. Tori’s not going to be here next year and you will need—”
“I know. I know. I’ll try. I promise.”
She smiles and pushes some hair off my nose when I straighten up.
“This party will be a perfect opportunity to get to know some people outside of school,” she assures me.
I realize that we have very different definitions of perfection and opportunity.
Chapter 3: Epic Party Fail
In bio class, I’m still paired with Michael Endicott, who barely acknowledges me. And since we’re only learning about plant parts now, he could afford to be a little civil to me.
I have bigger problems to worry about. I have to figure out how to make it through Willow’s party without being the first person in three hundred years to be hanged as a witch just for wearing last year’s shirt or failing to own a beach house somewhere. The jury will be kinder to Tori than me. She fits in so much better, and she and Willow hung out at the pool a lot this summer. Tori likes everybody, and Willow has deemed Tori acceptable. I don’t think she’ll give me the same pass.
On Thursday, Willow actually marches up to my lunch table and looms over me like a white-haired Viking in platform sandals. I quickly scan her person for a hanging rope.
“So, Georgiana, I hear you’re coming to my house tomorrow with your sister—for my little get-together?” she purrs, strokes her hair, and smiles like she is showing off a really spectacular conditioner on an infomercial. “I’m so glad.”
I’d been discussing my dissection dilemma with two guys from my history class who suggested I write about it for the alternative newspaper they are trying to resurrect. Dave Watkins wears black horn-rimmed glasses and a kind of retro haircut, while Gary DeSantos sports a Mohawk and ripped t-shirts with band names on them like “Bad Brains.” These guys are clearly the most interesting people at LHS and I wish I had met them earlier. And now that we’re actually talking to each other, sharing lunch, even, and I’m actually liking them, Willow has to butt in and have them quaking in their Doc Martins. So instead of continuing with suggestions for the first issue, Dave pretends to examine his chemistry notes and Gary looks like he is afraid Willow will bite him. Really, for a pair of punk wannabes, they are pretty easily cowed by a girl whose brightest future lies in pointing to prizes on game shows. But then, I don’t really blame them. I have to force myself to look up at Willow too. I fear it’s a bit like looking directly at an eclipse. I could be blinded by her sheer fabulousness.
“Oh, don’t do anything special just for me,” I say as I pull a sandwich out of my bag, and Gary snickers a bit.
Willow steps back then, gaping as if I have just produced a slug from my lunch bag.
“Oh my God, is that a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” she near-squeals.
I wave my offending lunch in her direction and ask, “Why? Do you have a peanut allergy? ’Cause you look like you might go into shock.”
She sniffs and her upper lip curls slightly. “No. It’s just that I have never seen anyone over the age of, like, five, bring a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to school.”
“Well, I’m the only vegan in my house, so sometimes in the morning there’s not much food available that didn’t once have a face.”
She smirks and says, “You may be the only vegan in town,” as she walks away.
Gary shakes his head and laughs nervously. “That was unreal. Does she know she’s a cultural stereotype?” And for the first time since we moved to Longbourne, I feel like I have found someone to talk to. I smile and nod in agreement. Dave suggests that after I do the anti-dissection essay for the paper, I should do a whole “Ethics of Eating” column and I find myself smiling again because, I have to admit, that sounds like a good idea.
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