Free Confessions of a Serial Kisser by Wendelin Van Draanen Page A

organization and get your hours done," he snapped.
    I leveled a look at him. "Mr. Hikks, I never got this paper in the mail."
    "Well, now you have it, don't you?"
    His sarcastic tone ticked me off even more. Why was he treating me like a delinquent? Didn't my hard-earned GPA entitle me to a little respect? Couldn't he at least be a little more...pleasant?
    My whole body felt flushed, but I tried to stay calm. "Mr. Hikks, my point is, where did you mail it?"
    He swiveled in his chair and rattled away at his keyboard, then pointed to an entry on his computer monitor. "Seven sixty-eight Sycamore Drive."
    "Well," I said, trembling now with anger, "I don't happen to live there anymore."
    He rolled his eyes.
"Well,"
he said back, "it would help if you would inform the school of these things!"
    My head felt strangely light. My whole
body
felt like it might just float away. "It would help
more,
" I said as I shoved out of my chair, "if you would go to hell!"
    Then I stormed out of his office and burst into tears.

35
    The Tune of a Hickory Stick
    B EING OUT IN THE FRESH AIR helped me get a grip.
    Mr. Hikks was certainly not worth runny mascara!
    I took a deep breath, wiped away the tears, and ran to Spanish.
    The running was a waste, as I was tardy anyway. And then midway through class a pink note arrived, instructing me to report to Ms. Hershey's office at once.
    Ms. Hershey is not sweet, as her name might imply. She has a reputation for being severe and decisive, traits I always thought were necessary (if not commendable) in a vice principal. Miss Ryder calls her the hickory stick of Larkmont High, which, coming from an English teacher, would seem like an innocent enough metaphor, except she always does it with an evil glint in her eye.
    So I was definitely not looking forward to meeting Ms. Hershey. How had this happened? How could I, Evangeline Nearly-4.0 Logan, be facing off with the Hickory Stick?
    "Sit," Ms. Hershey commanded after I'd been let into her office.
    I sat.
    "We do not tell our counselors to go to hell," she said, her lips firm, her nostrils slightly flared.
    I simply nodded and said, "I know. I'm sorry."
    This seemed to throw her.
    "Then...why did you do it?"
    I held her gaze. "I...it doesn't matter. I just shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry."
    Ms. Hershey continued to stare at me a moment, then turned to her computer and pulled up my stats. "You're an exemplary student," she said, turning back to me. "Your citizenship and work-habit markings are also outstanding. Is there something going on with you?"
    "Pardon?"
    "Is there some reason you flew off the handle today?"
    I looked at my hands for a moment. How could I talk to someone I didn't know about something I couldn't really explain? I shook my head and looked back at her. "It was just wrong, okay? What do I need to do to atone?"
    An unexpected smile seemed to tickle her face. "To atone?" She thought for a moment, then breathed in deeply and said, "Considering your track record, I think a note of apology will suffice." She passed me a sheet of paper and a pen, adding, "As long as I have your assurance that it won't happen again."
    I nodded.
    "So give me your new contact information, write that note, and let's get this unfortunate incident behind us."
    So I told her the condo's address and phone number, and on the spot I wrote a conciliatory note to Mr. Hikks.
    Inside, though, I felt odd and shaky.
    Inside, I wasn't at all sure it wouldn't happen again.

36
    News Flash
    "P AXTON SAID HE SAW YOU with a pink slip!" Adrienne said as she joined me in the quad at lunch. "I told him he was delusional." She hesitated. "He was delusional, right?"
    I dug the summons out of my jeans and handed it over.
    "To Ms. Hershey's?" she gasped. "Why?"
    I peeled back the wrapper of my lovely Snack Shack burrito. "Because I told Mr. Hikks to go to hell."
    "No!" she gasped. "Why?"
    "He wasted my whole break over community-service hours. He was so condescending, and it was so hot in