And this all started from Pamela Pammy Pam Shapiro. You know, it’s a real shame that Pam caused this shit storm because I have seen her in the hallways (how can you not—she’s a friggin’ giant), and I have had nothing but kind thoughts for her. But, as they say in America, the gloves are off. That linebacker has another thing comin’ to her thinkin’ she can start a rumor so vicious it got us here. Not surprising that Pammy Shapiro would start this as she must not have anything in her own life to be excited about except for thinkin’ she’s gonna marry Joey McIntyre one day. And stop callin’ yourself Pammy, that’s an adorable littler girl’s name. You’re not adorable, and you’re far from bein’ a littler, so . . . Pam’ll do just fine.
Are you pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down? Are the pieces of this wild puzzle coming together for you, Chris?
We live in a town filled with people who are obsessed with other people. And this high school is ground zero.
And about the note. The note that was in PAM Shapiro’s desk. Let me say first that I am just surprised that lady didn’t eat my note thinkin’ it was a Stella D’oro snack cookie or somethin’. But alas, she didn’t eat it. She read it.
I am not going to defend that note, Christopher. The note was real, Kid. It was written and delivered. The note happened. But let’s take a minute here to fully understand the content of the note and the timeline said note was written and delivered.
I had just landed the role of a lifetime. Anne Frank. Then that play was canceled by what has to be the most idiotic school board in the history of public schools. I lost my role and was subsequently devastated. In my devastation I, still channeling Anne Frank (who was a famous writer that wrote descriptive notes to others and herself), wrote a note to Matt Bloom . . . YOUR ACROSS-THE-STREET NEIGHBOR THAT YOU INTRODUCED ME TO AND BEGGED ME TO BE KIND TO!!!! Remember that, Caparelli?
Yes. I wrote Matt Bloom a long-winded note as if I were Anne Frank. I can’t even remember what the note said because I was ANNE FRANK when I wrote it, and, well, she’s dead, so we can’t exactly ask her now, can we???!!!!!!
I wrote a character note to another actor. Oh, sorry, let me write that again in a language you’ll understand . . . I, uh, like, ummmmm, wrote a, ummmm, note pretendin’ I was, uhhhh, someone else to another, ummmm, ACTOR!!
This is interesting, though. Pretty revealin’, too. I delivered a note to the wrong side of a science lab table and who finds it but a portly Freshman giant.
The giant tells a munchkin. The munchkin tells Skunk Bush. Skunk Bush tells the king of all skids. The king of all skids tells you, and YOU BELIEVE ALL OF THEM!! You took the word of a pathetic Greek chorus of delinquents! I think that raises some questions, Chris. I think that raises a lot of questions. You should take a look at that, you know, for you and your own growth.
Interesting this all happened right before Thanksgiving break. Key word. BREAK!!!! Something I think we need.
There. I left it all on the dance floor. Ahhhhhhh, dance floors. Proms. The Senior Prom that will be held in the big city this spring. Our last hoorah as Seniors, as citizens of this town. Will we be going as the Supercouple we were? Will we dance to “I’ve Had the Time of My Life”? I can’t say for sure.
Fall of 1992 can’t come fast enough. College, can you hear me? Broadway? Hey, it’s me, Tara Maureen Murphy . . . I will see you soon. As if bein’ stripped of Anne Frank wasn’t hurtful enough. The love of my life goes and basically subpoenas me to the court of jealous townies.
Consider this my last folded note to you, Christopher. Until, of course, the tides turn.
Oh, look at that . . . it’s snowin’ outside. The high school parkin’ lot is turnin’ white before my very eyes, and here I am, hidin’ under a stairwell, penning this here note to a person I thought I could trust.
Tara
P.S. Tonight I will make a mix-tape with some of the following songs. Wonder if you can guess the theme I’m goin’ for.
On My Own (from Les Misérables)
Fast Car
Time for Me to Fly
Every Rose Has Its Thorn
The Breakup Song
Don’t You (Forget about Me)
Hey Tara,
I’m gutted right now. Is this true about you and Chris’s across-the-street neighbor? You know I’m not one to believe gossip, but I just can’t help but think this might be true. It just adds up. Is this why this year has been so rocky for us? I can’t help but think maybe it is.
Look, not to be rude, but you’ve always been a little, well, vibrant. But that makes sense, you’re incredibly talented! And besides that I have always just loved you for you. Best friends accept each other, warts and all. But best friends also share honestly with each other.
I don’t care if what people are saying is true or not true or half-true or whatever. I care about you telling me because, Tara, I’m not sure I know how to be a friend to someone, let alone a best friend to someone, who isn’t being authentic.
Please write me back before the Turkey Drive. I really don’t want to be there, wrapping turkeys with you, if we haven’t cleared the “polluted, storm-cloud-filled” air.
Thanks much,
Stefanie
Dear Tara,
I believe you!
I’m so sorry I even suggested this stupid rumor might be true. Of course you wrote a character note to
