looking, either. He reminds me of Christopher Reeves—I mean, Reeve —from Somewhere in Time . Only Don’s got shoulder-length hair and isn’t nearly as built as Superman.
Now for the P’s…
“Penelope Page.”
I’ll never forget Penny. She’s the girl I smoked my first cigarette with. A Marlboro Red, back in the winter of 8th grade, in the Jehovah’s Witness parking lot. I felt like a bad ass!
“Joseph Palladino.”
Based on his looks alone, Joey’s gotta be a contender for Homecoming King. Except if he wins, Jack will just die.
Speaking of…
His name should be next.
Fingers crossed!
“Nathaniel Richelieu.”
What the fuck?
I mean, I’m happy for Nate—he’s got great hair and awesome ankles. But what happened to Jack Paterno? Mr. Verlander must’ve made a mistake and skipped a name. Or maybe the alphabetical got outta order?
“Elizabeth Sheffield…Marie Sperling…Tonya Tyler.”
Varsity cheerleader…Vikettes co-captain…Chorale.
Finally, Mr. Verlander concludes with the U’s, V’s, W’s…
No Class Clown, Audrey Wojczek?
And the X’s, Y’s, and Z’s.
Outta all my friends, I’m the only one to make “Top 25”?
I can’t fucking believe it!
And from the looks of it, neither can Jack.
Across the auditorium, I see him slump down in his seat, looking like he’s gonna cry…
So am I.
What the fuck is wrong with the fucking people at this school?
Jack Paterno is the smartest guy in our class. Not to mention he’s cuter than most of the so-called popular boys. Not that I think he’s cute—he’s like the brother I never had. But there’s no denying Jack is attractive.
So what if he’s not hot , like Rob Berger or Joey Palladino?
He’s still my Best Friend.
Kiss Him Goodbye
“He’ll never love you
The way that I love you…”
—Bananarama
You are not gonna believe what happened.
‘member how I was supposed to go over Audrey’s house to help her and Tuesday Gunderson with their scene from Gamma Rays? Well, I did. As per usual, the three of us wound up talking more than we did working on anything. In fact, the girls ran thru the scene all of once, I gave them some notes, and they called it quits.
“Who do you think’s cuter: Will Isaacs or Allen Bryan?” It never failed. All Tuesday Gunderson ever wants to do is talk about guys. Maybe because she’s never had a boyfriend a day in her life.
“Definitely Allen Bryan,” Audrey answered from the kitchen, popping open a bottle of pop.
Tuesday called out from the couch, “You think so?”
“No question,” Aud replied. She poured Diet Dr Pepper into a plastic cup as she entered the room. “Will Isaacs is fat.” She handed the half-empty bottle to Tuesday, who took a swig.
“So is Allen Bryan.” Tuesday belched low and resonant.
Audrey grimaced. Frantically she put thumb to forehead, wiggled her fingers, and shouted, “Skobie!”
Tuesday wiped her mouth and mimicked her friend, mere seconds behind.
“Brad ate it!”
They both informed me of this fact when I didn’t move a muscle, choosing to sit in my comfy armchair next to the fireplace, refusing to play along. I gave them each a look and kept on petting Patches, Audrey’s orange and black and white calico.
“But Big Al plays football,” said Audrey, picking right back up where she left off.
This seemed to be her justification for just about everything lately. If a guy played sports, he could have three heads on his shoulders and Audrey would still find him hot. I think it’s her secret desire to feel a boy’s Varsity jacket wrapped securely around her shoulders.
“Yeah, but Will plays trom bone ,” Tuesday interjected, making a slide-like gesture.
I gotta say, she shocked me with her apt use of sexual innuendo. I always considered Tuesday a Total Nerd, you know what I mean?
“So…? Brad plays trombone,” Audrey reminded.
Hearing my name enter the conversation, I looked up. “What’s that got to do with
Now for the P’s…
“Penelope Page.”
I’ll never forget Penny. She’s the girl I smoked my first cigarette with. A Marlboro Red, back in the winter of 8th grade, in the Jehovah’s Witness parking lot. I felt like a bad ass!
“Joseph Palladino.”
Based on his looks alone, Joey’s gotta be a contender for Homecoming King. Except if he wins, Jack will just die.
Speaking of…
His name should be next.
Fingers crossed!
“Nathaniel Richelieu.”
What the fuck?
I mean, I’m happy for Nate—he’s got great hair and awesome ankles. But what happened to Jack Paterno? Mr. Verlander must’ve made a mistake and skipped a name. Or maybe the alphabetical got outta order?
“Elizabeth Sheffield…Marie Sperling…Tonya Tyler.”
Varsity cheerleader…Vikettes co-captain…Chorale.
Finally, Mr. Verlander concludes with the U’s, V’s, W’s…
No Class Clown, Audrey Wojczek?
And the X’s, Y’s, and Z’s.
Outta all my friends, I’m the only one to make “Top 25”?
I can’t fucking believe it!
And from the looks of it, neither can Jack.
Across the auditorium, I see him slump down in his seat, looking like he’s gonna cry…
So am I.
What the fuck is wrong with the fucking people at this school?
Jack Paterno is the smartest guy in our class. Not to mention he’s cuter than most of the so-called popular boys. Not that I think he’s cute—he’s like the brother I never had. But there’s no denying Jack is attractive.
So what if he’s not hot , like Rob Berger or Joey Palladino?
He’s still my Best Friend.
Kiss Him Goodbye
“He’ll never love you
The way that I love you…”
—Bananarama
You are not gonna believe what happened.
‘member how I was supposed to go over Audrey’s house to help her and Tuesday Gunderson with their scene from Gamma Rays? Well, I did. As per usual, the three of us wound up talking more than we did working on anything. In fact, the girls ran thru the scene all of once, I gave them some notes, and they called it quits.
“Who do you think’s cuter: Will Isaacs or Allen Bryan?” It never failed. All Tuesday Gunderson ever wants to do is talk about guys. Maybe because she’s never had a boyfriend a day in her life.
“Definitely Allen Bryan,” Audrey answered from the kitchen, popping open a bottle of pop.
Tuesday called out from the couch, “You think so?”
“No question,” Aud replied. She poured Diet Dr Pepper into a plastic cup as she entered the room. “Will Isaacs is fat.” She handed the half-empty bottle to Tuesday, who took a swig.
“So is Allen Bryan.” Tuesday belched low and resonant.
Audrey grimaced. Frantically she put thumb to forehead, wiggled her fingers, and shouted, “Skobie!”
Tuesday wiped her mouth and mimicked her friend, mere seconds behind.
“Brad ate it!”
They both informed me of this fact when I didn’t move a muscle, choosing to sit in my comfy armchair next to the fireplace, refusing to play along. I gave them each a look and kept on petting Patches, Audrey’s orange and black and white calico.
“But Big Al plays football,” said Audrey, picking right back up where she left off.
This seemed to be her justification for just about everything lately. If a guy played sports, he could have three heads on his shoulders and Audrey would still find him hot. I think it’s her secret desire to feel a boy’s Varsity jacket wrapped securely around her shoulders.
“Yeah, but Will plays trom bone ,” Tuesday interjected, making a slide-like gesture.
I gotta say, she shocked me with her apt use of sexual innuendo. I always considered Tuesday a Total Nerd, you know what I mean?
“So…? Brad plays trombone,” Audrey reminded.
Hearing my name enter the conversation, I looked up. “What’s that got to do with
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