3. Martin
I like people with gaps between their front teeth. I always wished I had one. Strange, it never occurred to me that Carolyn might not have been so keen on her gap. So that dedicating a book to ‘the girl with the gap’ might actually have been kind of cruel.
She was always making fun of the braces on my teeth. Maybe she was jealous? Maybe she wanted to deflect attention from her own troubled teeth? Also, she might have been frightened all the time—living on the edge—knowing that there must come a moment when I realised that I had the perfect comeback. I never did though.
It’s like that boy, Martin, in fourth grade, who used to think my name was funny. Moriarty. It’s so close Mori-farty! He was always laughing and calling out, ‘Hi there, Jaci Mori-farty’. I could never think of a response. I just gave him withering looks. And his name was Martin.
*
The good people at Café Zo Zo added Charlie’s medicine to his strawberry milkshake for me. He drank the whole thing without a clue.
Funny, the things you can get away with when it’s a kid.
Imagine if you went to a café with a friend, and asked the waiter — in an urgent, surreptitious whisper — if this dropper full of gluggy, white liquid could be slipped into your friend’s cappuccino, please.
She was always making fun of the braces on my teeth. Maybe she was jealous? Maybe she wanted to deflect attention from her own troubled teeth? Also, she might have been frightened all the time—living on the edge—knowing that there must come a moment when I realised that I had the perfect comeback. I never did though.
It’s like that boy, Martin, in fourth grade, who used to think my name was funny. Moriarty. It’s so close Mori-farty! He was always laughing and calling out, ‘Hi there, Jaci Mori-farty’. I could never think of a response. I just gave him withering looks. And his name was Martin.
*
The good people at Café Zo Zo added Charlie’s medicine to his strawberry milkshake for me. He drank the whole thing without a clue.
Funny, the things you can get away with when it’s a kid.
Imagine if you went to a café with a friend, and asked the waiter — in an urgent, surreptitious whisper — if this dropper full of gluggy, white liquid could be slipped into your friend’s cappuccino, please.
