On Wednesdays, Tribble the Girl goes to Ballet class. (Dance is perfect for long legged little girls with ADD and a penchant for wearing pink. I had short legs, I used to hate pink, and didn't know ADD existed. I didn't do ballet.)
Bucky and I hang at the library for over an hour. This town's library is amazing. It's, like, FULL OF BOOKS! And they have People magazine and Quill & Quire and a few really uppity decorating magazines, that I can read for free! Awesome. Bucky gets to use the crappy microsoft computers for an hour. When he's done, he checks out a book and meets me in my reading spot.
Last night I was reading about Tori Spelling's $200,000 debt and her weird rich childhood and her new life as an almost normal (Hollywood standards) person, when a little balled up bit of paper flicked onto the coffee table in front of me. Obnoxious kid upstairs in the balcony? Ignore. Another one hit my boot. I looked around. Decided not to be the dork looking for the snickering instigator. One landed in my book bag. It had to be Bucky. I ignored him because I had to read about Paulina Porizkova and how her gorgeous body has changed shape. Ha, her and me both, hahaha!
I got pelted with little green bits of paper. Ignore. He wants me, he can come get me.
Finally I packed up my stuff and went looking -- he zipped around the corner, blonde curls flowing out of his hat, coat hanging off his shoulders, big crazy grin. "Did you READ them?"
So I sat down and unfolded each note and chortled and snorted.
Apparently he was done his computer time.