Chapter Two

“You know what? If you acted stupider than you really are, it might actually be possible to never let anybody down.”-Seraphina Ramirez

The Journal

Monday, September 13th 2004

Tara Marlowe

Whoops! Theo gave this to me in Socials on Friday and I was supposed to give it to Sera, but I forgot and left it in my locker. Hmmm… Maybe if I can bribe someone into distracting her while her locker’s open and slip it inside, she’ll think she was the one who forgot it in her locker. Well, it’s worth a shot.

But first, I must gush:

I saw the hottest boy in church yesterday! I know, I know. I say that a lot, but damn, he was fine. lol. It was the hair. Part curly, part wavy. I just wanted to bury my face in it. Haha. My mom would have had such a fit, if I had done that! I wanted to talk to him so bad, but my dad made us leave right after communion because he didn’t want to be caught up in the traffic jam getting out of the church parking lot. Argh!

He was soooooo hot.

Oh, well. Maybe next week. Now to try my luck with returning this to Sera. Probably stupid of me to write in here that I forgot to return it to her. Oh, well. We all have our blond moments. (I’m allowed to say that because I’m blond. Brunettes, redheads and raven beauties who even so much as think it, will be drawn and quartered by yours truly.)

Seraphina Ramirez

Let it be noted that I did notice Tara sneaking this into my locker, despite Morgan waving her arms about like a maniac and bestowing me with a near-fatal bear hug.

Mackenzie Miarka

Haha. I love this, you guys. It’s so cool – a communal journal between the whole lot of us. Oh, wait. I’m supposed to talking to the imaginary reader, aren’t I? Oops.

Allow me to begin again.

I am Mackenzie Miarka, first-rate (I hope) writer and confirmed controversy. I’m not exactly sure what that last part means, but it’s been said about me by a reliable (kinda) source. I am student number 200745 at AGCS, a Scorpio and 100 mutt. Half Polish, half Scottish. That’s me. Can’t you just tell by my name?

Mack’s Schedule

A – Home Ec.

B – Science

C – Religion

D – Socials

E – English

F – P.E.

G – Math

H – French

P.S. Technically, Tara, a female can’t be drawn and quartered because that involves the cutting off of the penis.

Morgan Forbes

Oh my God! Mack, that’s disgusting! And why are you guys all putting your schedules in here? Do you want me to put mine, too? I will, just in case.

Morgan’s Schedule

A – Math

B – English

C – Drama

D – Spanish

E – Religion

F – Science

G – Socials

H – P.E.

Missy Chan

Mackenzie, why do you even know stuff like that?

Mackenzie Miarka

Because I do. And you guys aren’t supposed to talk to me directly. That’s getting out of character! Talk to the imaginary reader. This isn’t a forum, it’s a…collective and ongoing letter to a nonexistent person.

Tuesday, September 14th 2004

Seraphina Ramirez

My parents are so pissed at me right now. They want me to take Spanish because that’ll be easier for me, and I’ll get better grades. But I’d find it so boring, already knowing everything. It wouldn’t be a challenge. And I like French – indecent amount of textbooks aside. I hate it when they try to dictate my life. I’ve gotten good marks in French for the last two years, so what does it matter? They annoy me so much sometimes!

Theodora Lazarro

Man, that sucks, Sera. I know what you mean. Parents can be so controlling sometimes. But I better ‘get back into character’ or Mack’ll get mad at me. Haha.

I’m at home right now, sitting on my bed. My sister’s playing Good Charlotte on the computer out in our study. I should be doing that Religion assignment on how closely my morals relate to those set out by the Church, but I really can’t find the will to do it. It may sound stupid, but I kinda wonder if I really have morals. I kind of just do whatever I feel like doing at the time. But then, I don’t think I’ve really ever been in a situation where it really mattered, you know? Like, I’ve never had to choose between hurting someone in self defence or not. And I know most of these are about pro-life stuff and sex, but it’s the same deal. I’ve never had an unplanned pregnancy or been in a serious relationship where I might consider having sex. So how am I supposed to know what I’d do if I have no idea how I’d feel in that situation?

I guess it’s nice to have an idea where you’d stand, but I just don’t know.

Wednesday, September 15th 2004

Missy Chan

We’re watching a movie about abortions in Religion, and it’s really grossing me out, so I’m trying to avoid looking at the screen and distracting myself by writing in here. But what to write?

AGCS has been open for exactly sixteen years, and it’s considered quite an accomplishment that we’re so highly ranked for such a relatively young school. That sounds so conceited. Our current principal is Mrs. Gallagher of Portsmouth, England. Hmmm. We have two teachers that are twins, Mr. and Ms. Brose. They’re cool. Ms. Brose graduated from AGCS. I don’t know what high school Mr. Brose went to. I think it would be kinda weird to work in the same place as your sibling, though. I know I’d never want to work at the same place as my sister. But yeah, they always tell stories about each other from when they were kids, and make faces when they pass each other in the hallway. Theo thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world.

Morgan just left the classroom. I think she’s crying. Mrs. Duncan said we could leave if we really needed to, though, so that’s okay. Tara just asked if she could go check on Morgan and Mrs. Duncan said okay – it’s not like she wouldn’t. I’m not sure I should have written this here. It might embarrass Morgan later on. I’m going to borrow a black marker from someone and black it out. I think Mack has one in her pencil case; she has A LOT of stuff in her pencil case.

Seraphina Ramirez

What’s this big black blotch? Haha. Alliteration. Anyway, the marker bled onto the next five pages. There are black dots all over the place! Oh, well. This thing only cost me a dollar, anyway.

I know Mack’s going to give a great big whopper of an exasperated sigh if she reads this, but I’m going to talk to Theo directly. Theo, doesn’t just the fact that you require a relationship to be serious before considering sex give you some sort of idea as to what your morals are? I mean, that condition alone is, in itself, a moral. Isn’t it?

Anyway, on to lighter topics.

It is 12:22 in the afternoon, and I have just been shooed from the cafeteria so that the homeroom on caf duty can clean the tables. And I still have about one third of my lunch left. Darn European lunches. Why can’t my mother just pack me a sandwich and an apple like everyone else? Then I wouldn’t have to work away at it slowly at recess, lunch and after school just so she won’t panic and take me to the doctor to make sure I don’t have anorexia. We only have forty-five minutes of lunch break, for crying out loud!

I’m in the library, sitting next to Mack, who’s scribbling away at some story. I’ve never read any of her stuff because this is the first year I have any classes with her, but everyone tells me she’s really good. Mrs. Duncan says it’s sad that we don’t know everyone in our grade yet, and that we should at least by graduation. She says we don’t have any excuse not to because there are only one hundred of us, and that’s really not a lot compared to other schools. I guess she’s right, but I’ve never been that good with names.

I like our library. It takes up half the second floor of the west wing, and it’s right over the home ec. rooms, so whenever something’s cooking, the smell wafts up through the heater vents, and makes the place feel really cozy despite its size. Also, the ceiling has a border of windows in it, and you can see the sky. One day last year, it was raining and I lay down on the floor, looking up at the rain pounding down on the windows. Mrs. Simonis thought it was a neat idea and now she’s always telling the grade eights to try it.

I love this school.

Leah Huang

Speak for yourself! It’s the second week of school and I’m already up to my armpits in homework!

By the way, imaginary reader, I am Leah Huang. Pronounced Lay-a. Not Lee-a or Lay or Lee. Lay-a. Like in Star Wars. I really like Star Wars, but I find Princess Leah annoying for some reason. Mack says it’s because I’m “partial toward softer female characters, and carry a distaste for individuals who cause a fuss.” Arisu says most Oriental people are that way because they come from a culture that traditionally values composure and self-containment. God, I love that name. A-ree-zu. Why couldn’t I have been Japanese?

Leah’s Schedule

A – Mandarin

B – Info Tech

C – Socials

D – Math

E – Science

F – Religion

G – English

H – P.E.

Friday, September 17th 2004

Missy Chan

If you’re wondering, dear imaginary reader, why we didn’t write yesterday, it was because our own poor, misguided Seraphina FAILED TO BRING THIS TO SCHOOL YESTERDAY. God, that sounds pathetic, getting angry over something like that. I’m going to make myself a vow: no writing in here for a week. I need self control.

Seraphina Ramirez

You know what I really don’t get? The difference between ‘Miss’ and ‘Ms’. Isn’t ‘Ms’ just an abbreviation of ‘Miss’? I remember, back in grade five, we had a student teacher, and I wrote ‘Miss’ on her birthday card and my classmates told me that was wrong because she wasn’t married, so it should be ‘Ms’, and I was like, “It’s the same friggin’ thing!” And in the yearbook, some of the teachers are ‘Miss’ and some of them are ‘Ms’. At first I thought it was that all the married teachers who still use their maiden names were ‘Ms’ and the ones who weren’t married were ‘Miss,’ but that didn’t fit, either. I just don’t get it!

Mackenzie Miarka

lol. Actually, ‘Ms’ is an abbreviation of ‘Mistress’ from back in the 1700’s. In the 1970’s, feminist movements insisted that ‘Ms’ should be used instead of ‘Miss’ or ‘Mrs’ because a woman’s marital status shouldn’t matter in the business world, and to signify equality with men because ‘Mr’ can mean either a married or unmarried man.

Theodora Lazarro

That’s so cool!

Tara Marlowe

Can’t you just see me rolling my eyes at this topic? Can’t you just hear my eyeballs rolling around in their gooey sockets? CAN’T YOU?

Theodora Lazarro

Oh, I have nothing to say. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

Mackenzie Miarka

Ah, Marsian. The language of blah.

The Camera of Paranoia

Morgan tapped her foot against the heavy industrial tarp laid over the gym floor to protect it from Doc Martin's and Mary-Jane's. She squirmed in her seat, trying to get more comfortable as, one by one, the pervious year’s grade eights who had earned awards, were called up to stand on the stage. Best in Math, English, Science, Art… Most Improved… Highest Overall… Reader of the Year…

On the grade nines (this year’s grade tens).

Tap, tap, tap.

Distinction. Morgan Forbes.

She dragged herself from her chair and climbed up the stage steps, clapping politely as the rest of the distinction list was called. One big round of applause. Back down the steps. Sit down.

Honours.

Tap, tap, tap.

Morgan raised a hand to cover a yawn. On to subject bests. Her eyes roved over her classmates, and she frowned. Amelia Shing was pale and wide-eyed beneath the red marks blossoming on her face and arms. She twitched with every name that was called, slapping herself sharply. Her lips moved, forming indistinguishable mutters, and her breathing was agitated.

“Mandarin. Missy Chan.”

Amelia smacked herself with her right hand, leaving the skin even redder than before.

“Socials. Shana Rapp.”

Another self-imposed strike.

“Math.”

Amelia’s eyes grew wider, and she leaned forward in her seat.

“Rosella Jung.”

A teacher approached Amelia, helped her up and guided her towards the washroom.

The Journal

Tara Marlowe

Damn it. We had a Socials presentation today and Amelia went home at lunch and she has ALL the stuff. So we told Mrs. Daniau, and she said we should be more organized and she totally took off marks, though she’s letting us go on Tuesday. What the hell is wrong with Amelia?

A.N. Huh. That's been a long time. Oh, well. This is a harder story to write than I thought it would be.