Getting the Boot by Peggy Guthart Strauss

been a little harsh, don’t you think?”
    Kelly shrugged. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? What self-respecting seventeen-year-old listens to that crap and wears flowered shortie overalls? Besides, it takes absolutely nothing to make that girl cry. She’s screwed together way too tight.” Kelly stabbed little dotted lines into her melon slices with the tines of a fork. “Fine, I’m the devil incarnate where Minnie is concerned. But what about Lisa? Are you trying to suggest that the reason she hates me is because I bully her, too?”
    â€œI’m not saying you’re a bully at all. I’m just saying that if you want to get along with people who are different from you, you’re going to have to be a little more considerate. And a lot more tolerant.”
    Kelly didn’t know what Sheela was talking about. At home, she was friendly to everyone. Almost everyone. She at least tried to smile at the socially unfortunate students. You don’t get to be president of student council two years running by pissing off the people who voted for you.
    â€œI’m sorry, Sheela, but Lisa is the least tolerant person I’ve met in my whole life. If you don’t eat what she eats, think how she thinks, and do exactly what she says, you get a three-hour lecture.”
    Sheela laughed. “She is a strong dose. But you have to hand it to her, she’s incredibly dedicated to her causes.”
    Kelly snorted. “Yeah, all four hundred of them. I heard she’s organizing a rally in the Piazza del Popolo tomorrow—something about saving the exploited worker bees of the endangered Martian grasslands.”
    Sheela burst out laughing, a belly-busting, mouth-wide-open laugh. It was music to Kelly’s ears, and it sounded a whole lot better than opera.
    To: [email protected]
    From : [email protected]
    Subject: Suite mates . . . who needs ‘em?
    Â 
    Â 
    Dear Kelly,
    After everything you did to get to Italy, now you’re complaining? (If I could reach you right now, I’d strangle you!) Anywhere, and anything, has to be better than this stagnant social backwater! Believe me, you’ve so got the better end of the bargain. Your suite mates are just jealous of your divine fashion sense, that’s all. Blow them off, and have some fun!
    Love you,
    Tyff
    Kelly met Joe down in the lounge for movie night that evening. She neatly avoided Lisa and Minnie, who both glared at her, and settled down on a couch next to Joe. Scoping the room, she noticed that Sheela was sitting with Jarvis, deep in conversation.
    â€œLook at the lovebirds,” Joe cracked. “How sweet.”
    â€œIt is, actually,” Kelly said. “He’s the perfect kind of guy to get Sheela out of her shell—you know, bookish, and not intimidating.”
    Joe smirked. “Translation: The guy’s lame.”
    â€œWhatever,” Kelly said. “If she’s happy, I’m happy.”
    The movie flickered onto the screen. It was hard to concentrate with Joe playing with her hair and whispering in her ear. Kelly looked up and caught Sheela glaring at them. Guiltily, she shushed Joe. Sheela and Joe were both important to Kelly, and she wanted them to get along. But she was starting to think that only a diplomat could make that happen.

Kelly sat under a shady tree in the school courtyard Sunday morning, making a list in her notebook. She was tired of trying to break into the tight clique of day-schoolers in the cafeteria, and the nerdy program kids bored her. Joe didn’t “do” breakfast, and even if he did, Kelly knew it would take a crowbar to get him out of bed before 10 A.M. Recently, she had taken to bringing her yogurt and coffee outside every morning. Goth Girl was sitting on a bench nearby, and glanced up from her book to give Kelly a mock salute.
    It didn’t matter. In the two and a half weeks she’d been in Italy, this was the first time