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Of course, at the tirandmother was Stephanie A MacAllister To everyone else,around when she was ten

Honestly, Bob, if you believed her, Granderbil and then wrote about it Give her enough tierbil, too

Of course, the book-- Memoirs of a Very Good Girl--was banned and burned and trashed, so just about everyone read and talked about it Myas bad publicity By the time she was thirty-five, Grandma MacAllister had made a fortune, started a pretty famous artists‘ colony, opened up her bookstore, discovered new talent, pro, blah, blah, blah She never wrote another book I never asked why because I hadn‘t been born when she hanged herself from a sturdy wooden closet dowel in a swank New York hotel the night she won some award for lifetime achievement

She left the store to Mo, torch-the-house rah after Matt was gone, she bought up all the copies of her one collection she could find and burned theiant bonfire in the old, pre-McMansion backyard

After Grand into the bookstore That hu fairly smoothly until 2003, which is when Matt left Since then, sales have crashed, publishing has cratered, and Mo a bucket to a bulimic, Bob No h

c

As Dewers ofto tug free My throat tried to close against the memory of thick, acrid smoke Until that instant, I had been the new kid, a nobody, just another transfer Onlyabout erbil-screwing, sex-crazed grandmother Now everyone would look her up, if only to suck up to Dewer about our family? Me?

―coh ―Suicide is a highly individual choice The psychoanalysts would tell you there‘s an intimate connection between creativity and madness‖

Danielle raised her hand ―Doesn‘t suicide run in families?‖

Dewerman opened histo sound all jokey, thinking--stupidly--I could salvage so so very über-cool, ― I’m still alive‖

―Well,‖ said Danielle, ―so far‖

8: a

I h to blur If David was there, I didn‘t see hi, people finding out about randma, or Danielle‘s razor-sharp eyes

I clicked to crisis o-to where the world smears and I slide into a parallel reality, like when I‘ Rebecca called it depersonalization, but that‘s bullshit, Bob

I never float along and watch uys Think Ariel in a fishbowl The world becoside You see me, I see you, but we inhabit different bodies of water You can‘t touch me, and I can‘t touch you and that‘s just fine

I floated like that through honors-level world studies and on to fourth period gy in a bathroom stall instead of a phone booth No one cared The teacher spent half the period talking about safety and the other halfus shoot hoops No stress, no fuss

So, by lunch, I was starting to relax

BigOnce the fire happened--and especially once Matt was gone--I learned to hate the cafeteria, that momentary pause when a thousand eyes scanned and then dis like bad odors as I made ht? My get-noret better Besides, David said he‘d save a seat

Right away, I spotted Mr Anderson standing just inside the door Okay, good o to another student, but as I scooted by, he nodded and said, ―Ms

Lord‖ I kept on another four steps, heardat a far table, waving both arms I started that way--

And then spotted Danielle on his right

Okay, this was bad Even across the lunchroom, I read her expression: Stay away or I’ll scrape your tonsils out with a fork

Yeah, see, this was juststride, I did this abrupt hty--which wasmistake

Someone yelped, ―Hey!‖