Free Second Helpings by Megan McCafferty Page B
Authors: Megan McCafferty
the SPECIAL campus to pick me up and take me back to Pineville, my flawless veneer was already at risk of losing some of its luster.
Call Me Chantalle had already packed her toe shoes and Nutcrackers and douches by the time my parents walked into the room. But it was enough time to give the Darlings and the DePasquales an opportunity to do what all college-bound seniors parents do when they are in a room together: brag about their offspring.
Vassar and Piedmont are already wooing Mary for their honors programs!
Piedmont, Swarthmore, Amherst, and Williams will practically pay our Jessie to attend their honors programs!
Our Mary doesnt need financial incentives! She can write her own ticket!
Our Jessie already has! She has her pick of the Ivies!
The one-upmanship was enough to make their Jessie drop out of high school and become a hooker on the Point.
Its been so fun rooming with you! Call Me Chantalle gushed, handing me a pink piece of stationery with a tea-rose border.
The sound of her voice came as a surprise to me. We hadnt spoken a word to each other for weeks, not since she neglected to put a toe shoe on the door and I walked in on her polishing the Grim Reapers skin scythe with her tongue.
I took a closer look at the paper, on which she had written Mary DePasquale in loopy, girlie cursive. What? Didnt her parents know about Chantalle? Beneath it was a series of numbers, letters, and symbols which surely couldnt represent what I thought they did.
My e-mail and digits, silly! So we can keep in touch.
It was obvious that she was putting on a show for both sets of parents. I looked at the two very respectable, very deluded people whose genetics had produced this hobag. I wanted to say something like, Call Me Chantalle, I wouldnt touch you without a stockpile of antibiotics . But I knew my parents would be horrified by my candor, which, of course, conflicts with Phase 1 of the PDAD plan.
I waited until I got home to flush her info down the toilet, where it belonged.
I hadnt expected to get anything out of SPECIAL. To finally have something to be excited about was beyond my expectations. I now know I will get through my senior year, if only because Ive finally gotten a glimpse of what awaits me once my diploma is in my hands.
the fourteenth
I thought it was bizarre that my parents hadnt driven up to visit me at SPECIAL, but I didnt want them there, so I didnt bring it up. And on the phone, they said nothing but vague, unimportant things about life back in Pineville, so I assumed nothing was going on. I shouldve known better. No, they wanted to wait until I was settled back into the homestead, enjoying a fine breakfast of Capn Crunch and coffee, before springing a months worth of bad news on me.
Your grandmother, Dads mother, Gladdie
I know who my grandmother is, Mom.
Well, she said, clutching her teacup. She fell down the stairs again while you were at SPECIAL.
Jesus Christ! Is she okay?
Well, she didnt do any damage to her artificial hips. Mom paused to sip her chamomile. However, it seems the fall was caused by
By what?
A little bit of a stroke.
WHAT?! How can you have a little bit of a stroke? Thats like saying she caught a touch of the AIDS.
Well, she was in the hospital for only two weeks.
Only two weeks!
The stroke impaired her motor skills. And her memory is gone.
Mom! The woman is ninety years old! She hasnt been in her right mind in decades.
She shushed me. Dont say that. It will upset your father.
Where is she now?
Well, we moved her into an assisted-living facility because she cant take care of herself anymore.
Assisted-living facility. Is that PC for nursing home ?
She shushed me again. Dont say the N word. It upsets your father.
My father. Aha! No wonder he hadnt grilled me about my workouts. Hes been too distracted by his mothers
Call Me Chantalle had already packed her toe shoes and Nutcrackers and douches by the time my parents walked into the room. But it was enough time to give the Darlings and the DePasquales an opportunity to do what all college-bound seniors parents do when they are in a room together: brag about their offspring.
Vassar and Piedmont are already wooing Mary for their honors programs!
Piedmont, Swarthmore, Amherst, and Williams will practically pay our Jessie to attend their honors programs!
Our Mary doesnt need financial incentives! She can write her own ticket!
Our Jessie already has! She has her pick of the Ivies!
The one-upmanship was enough to make their Jessie drop out of high school and become a hooker on the Point.
Its been so fun rooming with you! Call Me Chantalle gushed, handing me a pink piece of stationery with a tea-rose border.
The sound of her voice came as a surprise to me. We hadnt spoken a word to each other for weeks, not since she neglected to put a toe shoe on the door and I walked in on her polishing the Grim Reapers skin scythe with her tongue.
I took a closer look at the paper, on which she had written Mary DePasquale in loopy, girlie cursive. What? Didnt her parents know about Chantalle? Beneath it was a series of numbers, letters, and symbols which surely couldnt represent what I thought they did.
My e-mail and digits, silly! So we can keep in touch.
It was obvious that she was putting on a show for both sets of parents. I looked at the two very respectable, very deluded people whose genetics had produced this hobag. I wanted to say something like, Call Me Chantalle, I wouldnt touch you without a stockpile of antibiotics . But I knew my parents would be horrified by my candor, which, of course, conflicts with Phase 1 of the PDAD plan.
I waited until I got home to flush her info down the toilet, where it belonged.
I hadnt expected to get anything out of SPECIAL. To finally have something to be excited about was beyond my expectations. I now know I will get through my senior year, if only because Ive finally gotten a glimpse of what awaits me once my diploma is in my hands.
the fourteenth
I thought it was bizarre that my parents hadnt driven up to visit me at SPECIAL, but I didnt want them there, so I didnt bring it up. And on the phone, they said nothing but vague, unimportant things about life back in Pineville, so I assumed nothing was going on. I shouldve known better. No, they wanted to wait until I was settled back into the homestead, enjoying a fine breakfast of Capn Crunch and coffee, before springing a months worth of bad news on me.
Your grandmother, Dads mother, Gladdie
I know who my grandmother is, Mom.
Well, she said, clutching her teacup. She fell down the stairs again while you were at SPECIAL.
Jesus Christ! Is she okay?
Well, she didnt do any damage to her artificial hips. Mom paused to sip her chamomile. However, it seems the fall was caused by
By what?
A little bit of a stroke.
WHAT?! How can you have a little bit of a stroke? Thats like saying she caught a touch of the AIDS.
Well, she was in the hospital for only two weeks.
Only two weeks!
The stroke impaired her motor skills. And her memory is gone.
Mom! The woman is ninety years old! She hasnt been in her right mind in decades.
She shushed me. Dont say that. It will upset your father.
Where is she now?
Well, we moved her into an assisted-living facility because she cant take care of herself anymore.
Assisted-living facility. Is that PC for nursing home ?
She shushed me again. Dont say the N word. It upsets your father.
My father. Aha! No wonder he hadnt grilled me about my workouts. Hes been too distracted by his mothers
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