The Basic Eight Read Online Free PDF Page A

Dietrich. Where does she find these things? “It’s only the first day. Oh, how was choir ?”
    Lily looked up from her apple. “What’s in choir?” “Flan’s current flame,” Natasha whispered.
    Lily looked relieved and I was thankful that Natasha let her know that I wasn’t after Douglas. “Who? Have you been dating someone this summer?”
    “She spent all summer in Europe,” Natasha said, opening her lunch box. Inside it were twelve large shrimp in a bag filled with ice, and a small container of cocktail sauce. “Not that anybody received as much as a postcard.” Natasha and Lily turned to me and tuttutted in unison. Why hadn’t I sent postcards to them in- stead?

    Lily took another bite of apple. “So if Flannery isn’t seeing someone, how can she have a current flame?” Only Lily would want to get the terminology straight before finding out who the mystery man was. Is.
    “The candle,” Natasha said, shrimp between teeth, “is not yet burning at both ends. He doesn’t know yet.”
    Lily nodded sagely. She was ready. “Who is he?”
    I sighed. This part was always a little embarrassing. “Adam State.”
    “ Adam State ?” she screeched, and the apple dropped out of her hands and rolled into the middle of the courtyard. Everybody was quiet and stared at it. Natasha, of course, broke the silence. “ To the fairest !” she cried, and people laughed and went back to their lunches. Though I’m sure nobody but us understood the Homeric reference, everyone understood Natasha doing some-
    thing crazy.
    “Having a crush on Adam State is like having a crush on Moses,” Lily said matter-of-factly. “He’s too busy doing his own thing to notice you.”
    “In The Ten Commandments Moses had a lover,” Natasha said, absently.
    “ The Ten Commandments is not a documentary, Natasha,” Lily said, and looked me over like a talent scout examining a piece of meat. “Flannery, I wouldn’t bet on his candle getting lit.” She took her napkin from her lunch bag and began to clean her tor- toiseshell glasses.
    “I heard he just broke up with somebody,” Natasha said, flut- tering her hands in a gesture that indicated that she may have heard this from the wind.
    I tried to sound worldly and confident. “He is the only appro- priate person for me to like,” I said, and Natasha and Lily ex- changed a look. Natasha said nothing and

    finished her shrimp, and Lily put her glasses back on. I watched her hands as they absent-mindedly practiced cello fingerings at her side. Lily will probably attend a conservatory next year. I think she lost some weight over the summer. What was that look about? Did someone have a crush on me? The sun glinted on the apple, but the gods didn’t seem interested today. Maybe they had to cover their books. I’d better stop all this description now, because I’m in Civics and my teacher, Gladys Tall, who lives up to her name, is getting suspicious. I couldn’t possibly be taking this many notes on her lecture, because the notes would have to look like this: cover your book cover your book cover your book
    Wednesday, September 8th
    Would that everything in life began with the Grand Opera Breakfast Club. For those who have opened the time capsule and found this journal as the sole chosen memento for this wondrous century, let me elucidate: The Grand Opera Breakfast Club is a precious stone that killed two birds that flew around the head of Joanne Milton, Roewer’s best French teacher and mother of Jen- nifer Rose Milton. One bird was the fact that Jennifer Rose Milton’s friends (that is Kate, Gabriel, Natasha, myself, etc.) al- ways weaseled our way into French with Mrs. Milton (it’s so strange to write that–to us she will always be Millie ) and not en- tirely inadvertently turned it into what we called a salon but what the head of the department told Millie was socializing , even if it was in French. The other bird was in the form of our principal, an ex-football coach