Author's Note: Ummm...amazingly, I'm out of stuff to say. Really. So enjoy the chapter!

January 19, 2006

Ugh. Despite sudden hero status, school attendance is still required. I save a dog and almost burn to death doing it, and then I have to go to SCHOOL?! I should be receiving medals and large sums of money! But I'm not. Instead, I am slaving away doing my scholarly duties while also getting frequent nosebleeds and going into occasional coughing fits. THERE IS NO JUSTICE IN THIS WORLD!!!

Except in the world of boys. Teehee. Specifically, the world of Dylan. And me. OUR world. Heh. It seems that he had heard all about my ordeal on Saturday. And I can use it to bend him to my will!!! MUHAHAHAHA!!! Okay. I'm done.

Setting: Ah, school. Lovely, lovely school. Moldy classrooms, lack of sunlight, WORK. But Dylan. Lovely, lovely Dylan. And his temple of masculinity and manliness. Or are those words synonyms? Whatever.

Anyways, Kendall and I are walking out of school when the Hot God of Manliness himself appears before me, glowing brightly and descending the stars from heaven with poise and…and…manliness? Actually, that's a lie. He was really coming down from the auditorium. When he saw me—oh, it was lovely—he ran down the steps. Kendall quickly slunk away, I'm guessing in efforts to avoid a repeat of our last episode.

Dylan (descending stairs of heaven/auditorium steps): Kass! Wait up for a second, will you?

Me (SCREECHING to a halt. Then, to save face, casually watching him descend): Hey, Dylan, how are you?

Dylan (ignoring the question): Are you okay?! I heard about that whole thing on Saturday!

Me (being humble and amazing. And coy): Oh, yes, that. Well, um, I'm fine. (feeling coughing fit coming on and cursing silently to self for being such a liar)

Dylan: Why did you do that? The article in the paper says you almost died! (gazing upon me with great concern and hotness) (I really didn't almost die, though. I don't know what people are saying, but I was definitely NOT about to die in there)

Me (choking back coughs) (sounding like an old lady): You know how newspapers tend to (surreptitiously coughing behind hand) over dramatize stuff like that.

Dylan: Well, I walked by the shop the other day, and it was completely gleaned (surprised he knows word of that complexity). Were you really just in there to save a dog?

Me (feeling like he thinks I'm an idiot): Uh, yea. (choking on coughs)

Dylan: Wow.

Me (not saying anything because of impending fit):

Dylan: Hey, are you all right? You look like you're choking or something.

Me (bursting into coughing fit with enough vigor that several people around us jump and then turn to glare at me for breaking their cool): Uh, (COUGH), I'm (COUGHCOUGHCOUGH) still a little (choke) smoked up (COUGH) from Saturday. (gurgle)

Dylan: Jesus. Are you sure you're all right? Do you need to sit down?

Me (coughing and swearing because hacking has made voice grated and masculine): I'm okay. (feeling wetness on upper lip) Oh, shit. (fishing for tissue in pants pocket) Hold on a sec. (turning face away from him because of blood practically SPURTING out of my nose!!!! Geez. Talk about inopportune times.)

Dylan (coming around to see my nose) (handing me a napkin out of pocket): Here. Use this. It's clean. Are you sure you're okay?

Me (taking it) (pressing to nose and then sounding weird): Yes. I'm fin. (reaching parking lot across street) Thwere's my mom. (a LIE) See you later.

Dylan (looking unconvinced of my well-being): If you're sure…

Me (nodding vigorously to avoid speech):

Dylan: Okay, then. Later. (gliding away)

Me (smacking self in head): Kass, yurr an idiot!

Kendall (magically appearing next to me and yanking me over to parking lot island, which we have named Isla de Stinka): OH MY GOSH, KASS! PERFECTLY EXECUTED!

Me (VERY confused): Wha?

Kendall (ignoring my puzzlement): How on EARTH did you get your nose to bleed like that?! And the fit of coughing? (yelling in ear) SPECTACULAR!!! (clapping)

Me (still with napkin up nose): Kendall, I haf no idée wha you ah saying.

Kendall: Oh, Kass. Kass Kass Kass. You are SO naïve.

Me (protesting): Am not!

Kendall: Don't you see?! Don't you even KNOW?!

Me (perturbed and even more confused): WHA?! WHA AH YOU SAYING?!

Kendall: Kass, you're a damsel in distress! And what is harder for a Hot Hunk of Manliness like Dylan to resist than a damsel in distress?

Me (checking flow of nose and deciding it lost it's faucet quality for the moment): I'm guessing nothing.

Kendall: EXACTLY!

Me: But I'm NOT a damsel in distress!!! I coughed all over him and then bled on him!! AGAIN!!! Now he'll only know me as the hemophiliac with TB.

Kendall: I have no idea what that means, but you're completely and totally wrong! He loves coming to the rescue! Trust me! All guys do. It makes them feel gallant.

Me (snorting): I doubt that.

Kendall: What is WRONG with you?! Don't you read?! Of course they feel gallant! That's how guys are!! And Dylan was totally eating out of your hand. I mean, the guy practically dove into his pocket looking for a napkin.

Me: Really?!

Kendall: Yes. He likes you. He completely likes you.

Me (dancing for joy) (launching into coughing fit): YAY!

Kendall (looking proud of herself): My work here is done.

Me: Wait, what? You have to HELP ME! I don't know what to do. I need to WOO him!

Kendall: Geez. Calm down. If I'd known you were going to get so psychotic I wouldn't have said anything. And don't say woo. It is SO 1854.

Me: Oh. Sorry. But please? Help me.

Kendall: Of course I'll help you. For a fee.

Me: WHAT?! A FEE?! (whacking her in head)

Kendall (shielding head with binder and laughing maniacally): Kass, stop! I was just joking!!

Me: Oh. Right. (sticking hands in pockets)

Kendall: Okay, well. There's not that much to it. Basically, you just act like you normally would. Wear flattering clothing. Don't burp, fart, or breathe through your mouth, and do not EVER, under ANY circumstances, let on that you like him!!

Me (deciding I'm better off without Kendall's help): Is THIS the reason you've never had a boyfriend?

Kendall (indignant): I have so had a boyfriend!

Me: Yea. Neilson Faulkner in the 1st grade completely doesn't count.

Kendall: Humph.

And that's basically it. Ah, HE LIKES ME!!!!!! According to Kendall. But still. It counts.

I could sing! OR dance! Oh, how desperately I want to date him, stake my claim upon his great Temple of Manliness. OH MY GOSH! WHAT IF SOMEONE ELSE ALREADY LIKES HIM?! AND WHAT IF HE LIKES THEM MORE THAN ME?! I have to call Kendall.


Okay, I'm better now. Kendall says that if there's anybody else who's after him too, we can just drown them in a school toilet. This relieves me greatly. I'm glad I have Kendall to rely on to help me kill my enemies.

January 20, 2006




Even Later

Humph. I refuse to even say anything. I absolutely refuse.


I change my mind. I have this to say: I fucking hate Yolinda Jones.

More Later

Pardon my French.

January 21, 2006

Guess what happened yesterday? Just guess. Well, in case you haven't already figured it out (in which case, you are a dunce) the detestable and abhorrent Yolinda Jones has ruined my life. Again. I'll relate to you the events that led to my downfall.

Setting: Bleh. I completely do NOT feel like writing this. My heart is in two. I SWEAR I'M GOING TO STRANGLE THAT GIRL!

Okay, so. I'm at school. It's right after the last bell, and I'm heading for the bathroom to check my hair in case of a Dylan sighting. THEN, I pass Yolinda's locker. And, lo and behold, who's standing there, with his perfect hand on her locker door, casually leaning in to catch her words, but The Hot Hunk of Manliness himself!

Without even thinking about it, I stride toward them. Angrily. Oh, so very angrily.

Yolinda (catching sight of me): and I—oh, well, hi Kassy. Meet Dylan.

Me (looking at Dylan and desperately hoping he will deny knowing her): Yes, I know Dylan. Hi, Dylan (waving at him and then turning to glare at Yolinda) How do you know him?

Yolinda: Oh, well, I was walking up the stairs with the student council charity posters last week when I tripped. Posters went everywhere! (cackling girlishly and managing to also severely piss me off) And Dylan here helped me pick them up. We got to chatting, and, well, we really hit it off.

Me (nodding): Uh-huh. Right. So…uh, are you walking out to the parking lot today, Dylan?

I know that this was a completely invalid attempt to distract him from Yolinda, who was totally flirting (IE: tossing her hair, leaning over with her scoop neck barely-reaches-her-belly-button sweater, thrusting chest out), but I couldn't just let her make off/out with my man! In fact, I would have been extremely amused by this performance had it not been WORKING!!! OH DYLAN, LOOK AWAY!! I kept thinking. But he didn't. I'm not sure he even remembered I was there.

Dylan (looking uncomfortable for a second): Well, actually, I—

Yolinda (interrupting): He's walking me out to my mom's car. (checking watch) Oh, and I'm late. I have a fitting for the dance at 4. (taking Dylan's HAND and pulling him away) Toodles.

Dylan (turning to wave at me): Bye, Kass.

Me (using 100 of energy to not pummel Yolinda) (starting towards them):

Kendall (coming round corner, taking in situation within three seconds, running, and shoving me straight into the girls' bathroom) (chasing all other occupants out): OH MY GOD!!! THAT BITCH!

Me (feeling tears—yes, actual tears—coming to my eyes): Oh, what's the point? They're going out. He's her date to the Valentine's Day dance. It's hopeless.

Kendall: Oh, Kass, you give up too easily. We're going to get her back for this. I promise you. We'll get her back.

Me (walking purposefully towards door, angry again): And I know just how to start.

Kendall (yanking arm and shoving me against wall): WITHOUT violence!!! Dylan isn't going to want to go out with you if you go all Kung-Fu Warrior on his girlfriend. No. We have to be subtle. We have to keep knocking her until she just gives up. Then, you swoop in, get Dylan, and we win! Simple. Just have patience. We'll get her back.

Me (dejectedly): Fine. I'll wait. But I swear to God that girl is going down.

Kendall: Well put.

Oh. My. Gosh. I really was going to kill that girl. It's a good thing Kendall showed up when she did, because I was about to kick in Yolinda's skull. She KNEW he was mine!! She knew it, and now she's just using him to get at me!!! WE ARE GOING TO POUND HER INTO THE GROUND!!!

January 22, 2006

Rage has not yet subsided.

Kendall and I had a planning session at her house today to discuss how to best get at Yolinda. This is what we've got so far:


Called to Order by Planner and Co-Planner Kassidy J. and Kendall G. (respectively)

1/22/06—4:30 PM

TARGET: Yolinda Persephone Jones

Aids to the operation:

1. Target lives next door to Planner.

2. Target is a total neat freak/planamanic/spaz.

3. Target's main goal is to go do dance and win Best Dressed Award.

4. Target is easily accessible to Planner due to membership in same clan.


Do as much as possible to hinder target's attending of the dance and/or dating of Dylan Palmaderos.

Execution of Plan may include:

1. Fattening her so that her custom fitted size 2 dress won't fit anymore.

2. Vandalizing dress.

3. Other…things.


As you can probably see, we're not exactly all that sure of what we can do yet. I mean, we don't want to hurt Dylan's feelings too. Just Yolinda's. So this makes it a little hard to ruin any dates they might have between now and the dance.

And Kendall even says she's not sure we're going to be able to break them up in time for the dance. I mean, we have, like 3 or 4 weeks, but we have to be subtle. Plus, it's looking like we might have to break them up while they're actually AT the dance, so… no dance for me. Well, at least, not with him.

There's always afterwards, though.

January 23, 2006

I emailed Saunders about Yolinda today. I'm hoping she'll give us some good ideas, because Kendall and I? Yea, we've got squat (other than what we came up with yesterday, which basically added up to nothing). We spent today's Wipe-Out-Yolinda meeting at the mall in the food court. I stuffed my poor, depressed face with ice cream, and Kendall consoled me. I felt very sad and pathetic.

Let's face it. I AM sad and pathetic. I've screwed up with Dylan because my OWN COUSIN has stolen him, my best friend is having to help me plan ILLEGAL ACTS to help get him back, my mother is practically ignoring me, and I can't even hate the guy she's going out with because he's too nice.

Wow. What a loser.



I'm in much less of a depressed mood at the moment. In case you couldn't tell.

Okay. We're back in business. Here's the plan:

ONE: Act really pathetic around Yolinda, so that she sees how miserable I am about her and Dylan.

TWO: Talk to Aunt June and drop hints about Dylan coming to her house for dinner.

THREE: Convince Dylan that there's some other guy in Yolinda's life by means of roses in locker, spray paint on locker, flaming heart on lawn WHILE HE'S OVER THERE, etc.

FOUR: Make Yolinda as unattractive as possible by: adding cooking oil to her hair products, putting oil in her makeup, smearing her bedsheets with garlic cloves, adding glue to her hair gel and spray, etc.



I know. We're amazing. Well, Saunders is anyways.

But now I have to go Aunt June/Yolinda's house and convince Aunt June that she just MUST meet this boy that Yolinda is dating, and then, MY family has to invite them to dinner so that Kendall can get into their house and do all those things to her stuff. Ugh. Complicated. And annoying.