Crazy, right? Meet me in the parking lot later and we’ll smoke some butts and discuss. I wanna get plastered this weekend, by the by.
Love you, Khed,
Tricia
Pete,
What’s up, you friggin’ tool? Yo, I got some serious news for you, buddy.
David Bloom’s younger brother, Matt, is drilling Tara Murphy. Behind your boy Caparelli’s back! How messed up is that?
They’ve been bangin’ since the beginning of the year, and Bloom is trying to force Murphy to keep the affair going, but I guess she is trying to shut it down.
Whatever. What’s up with you, you friggin’ douchebag?!! Wanna hook up?
Anyway, I’ll be smokin’ butts with Tricia in the parking lot later, so come by, you filthy pig.
Love ya, Khed,
Deena
Yo C.P.C.,
Hey, bro. I am sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you’re my boy, so I feel like I should.
That Freshman kid who lives in your neighborhood, Matt Bloom, well, I think he’s been taking advantage of sweet Tara.
I don’t really know the details, only what I’ve heard, but it sounds pretty messed up, dude.
Sorry to be the one to tell you, Khed.
Pete
Dear Tara,
Before I confront Matty B., I need to cross-reference some things I’ve been hearing today. I’m pretty mad right now, but I will write this as good as I can.
Are you sleeping with Matt?
Pete wrote me and then I went to talk to him, and this is what I know. Pete found out from Deena, who found out from Tricia, who found out from some girl named Pammy Shapiro, whoever the fuck that is. This Shapiro chick supposedly found a note from you to Matt in her desk.
Tara? What should I make of this?
Write me back as fast as you can ’cuz right now I want to beat the shit out of Matt.
Chris
Dearest Christopher Patrick Caparelli,
You know I only use your middle name when things are on high alert, and I would say that this is the highest alert our Supercoupledom has ever seen.
Let me first address some of the names you referenced in your note to me.
Your friend Pete Hickey is a skid. You know that, I know that. The whole friggin’ town knows that. He works at his cousin’s gas station, Chris. Proper jobs for high school people are landscapers or lifeguards. Pete is a dirtbag times ten. The furthest he will ever get from this town is the next town over. I have been telling you since we started dating that boys like Tzoug and Dube are guys like you. Good guys. Guys who will do somethin’ with their lives. But Pete? Puhhhlease. His nipple is pierced, Chris. I mean, come on! He has a tattoo of a friggin’ shamrock next to his balls. I’m more Irish than the queen of Ireland, but do you see me rockin’ a friggin’ shamrock tattoo? No.
So, trustworthy, dependable Pete Hickey gave you this news, huh? If I’m not mistaken, the last time Pete gave you news it was that he “accidentally” drove through your garage door because there was “black ice” on your driveway. IT WAS MID-SPRING, Chris!!!!!!
Sit back, hon. I’m just gettin’ started. You write me a note with accusations like I’m some townie whore, and guess what, you will get a note like this. I think by the end of this one I will be the one needing to make some decisions, Caparelli!!
So, Pete Hickey heard from Deena DeLuca a.k.a. Skunk Bush. Know why her nickname is Skunk Bush, Chris? Because good, sweet, pure, innocent Deena DeLuca was hookin’ up with some guys in front of the pond at Flanagan State Park. And lo and behold, as it happens sometimes in parks, a skunk strolled by and sprayed Deena right between her legs. SKUNK BUSH! Deena has been beating girls up since first grade. She is a wicked witch. She eggs houses and shaving creams cars. She trips people in hallways (I’ve never done that and Stef knows it, and what happens between me and my best friend is none of your friggin’ business anyway) and stirs up trouble all around this town. She is as evil as a girl can be, and you actually referenced that vile creature in a folded note to me!!!!!! SUGGESTION!!: Never ever write the name Deena DeLuca in a note to this girl. I don’t share college-ruled paper with trash like that.
You comfortable, Caparelli? ’Cuz I’m literally just warming up.
Tricia “Trish” Simms. Well, I guess the kindest thing one could say about Tricia is that she isn’t the dumbest person in this town. Her sister Jenny is. Those Simms sisters have been gunnin’ for me since as far back as I can remember. I’m sorry you’re 4’11” on the hoof, Trish, but that’s not my goddamn problem! Don’t hate me ’cuz I’m 5’6” and a half. That little weeble wobble can’t even go on roller coasters, and she’s mean!! In what friggin’ world does a pint-sized grown woman get away with being mean? I’ll tell you what world, Caparelli . . . THIS
