Tangible Schizophrenia

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Dear John III: These Eager Pencils

Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gen. Hartigan and Nancy.
Feedback: Good lines, bad ones, and why you liked/disliked them.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Title and quote from here.
Summary: In the third year, she starts to grow up.

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“Pencils
telling where the wind comes from
open a story.”
--Pencils, Carl Sandburg

* * *

Dear Hartigan,

We’re finally reading interesting books in school. Last year I was so bored because everything we read was so simple and easy to understand. You always knew who was the good guy and who was the bad guy, even though sometimes the good guy was meaner than the bad guy. Only Poe wasn’t like that. It’s a good thing I got a library card and can read whatever I want. My parents still say not to read this or that, but I don’t pay attention to them. I know that sounds bad, but I’m old enough to know what not to touch yet, and not to believe everything I read. Anyway, they don’t pay attention to what I watch on TV. I don’t see why reading a book is worse.

There’s this cute boy in my class. He has dirty-blond hair and gray eyes, and he cracks a lot of jokes when the teacher isn’t looking. He’s pretty funny. All the girls really like him and they’re always flirting by him, wearing really short skirts or too much make-up. The one time I tried to put on some of Mom’s make-up, she caught me and smacked me, so I didn’t even try. It’s probably a good thing if I end up looking as stupid as these girls with make-up on.

Yesterday we had to work together in a group and he was in mine. I thought I was going to die, but I told myself I wasn’t going to die looking stupid and I made myself talk to him. He’s as nice as he looks. He even likes the same bands I do, and he ignored this stupid girl who was the third person in our group. All she wanted to do was talk about herself and ask if he liked ice cream because she had a lot at home and stuff, but finally he told her to shut up or else we wouldn’t finish on time. I wish you could have seen her face.

Tomorrow I think I’m going to try and talk to him in the hall in between classes. Every time I get near him, my stomach goes a little queasy and my mouth is all dry, like I’m sick. But I’m going to do it. It’s the last day before vacation and I can’t wait that long. I’m going to ask.

And I’m sure you’re bored reading about this. I should tell you about something else that happened yesterday, too. I was walking home and there was this couple with a beautiful dog. It had a white belly and legs and throat, and its back was mixed orangey-gold and black. Its fur was so, so soft. I wish my coat was that soft instead of being so scratchy. And it could do tricks, like shake hands and roll over and my favorite, open gates. I don’t know if you’re a dog-person, but that was really cool. I’ll try and tell you about a cat next time, just in case you aren’t.

Sincerely,

Cordelia

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