第3部分(第3/8 頁)

elly　Stalls　came　into　the　picture。　Shelly　Stalls　is　a　ninny。　A　whiny；

gossipy；　backstabbing　ninny　who　says　one　thing　to　one

person　and　the　opposite　to　another。　Now　that　we're　in　junior　high；　she's　the　undisputed　diva

of　drama；　but　even　back　in　elementary　school　she　knew

how　to　put　on　a　performance。　Especially　when　it　came　to　P。E。　I　never　once　saw　her　run　laps

or　do　calisthenics。　Instead；　she　would　go　into　her

“delicate”　act；　claiming　her　body　would　absolutely　collapse　from　the　strain　if　she　ran　or

jumped　or　stretched。

It　worked。　Every　year。　She'd　bring　in　some　note　and　be　sure　to　swoon　a　little　for　the　teacher

the　first　few　days　of　the　year；　after　which　she'd　be

excused　from　anything　that　required　muscles。　She　never　even　put　up　her　own　chair　at　the

end　of　the　day。　The　only　muscles　she　exercised　regularly

were　the　ones　around　her　mouth；　and　those　she　worked　out　nonstop。　If　there　was　an

Olympic　contest　for　talking；　Shelly　Stalls　would　sweep　the

event。　Well；　she'd　at　least　win　the　gold　and　silver—　one　medal　for　each　side　of　her　mouth。

What　bugged　me　about　it　was　not　the　fact　that　she　got　out　of　P。E。—who'd　want　her　on　their

team；　anyway？　What　bugged　me　about　it　was　that

anyone　who　bothered　to　look　would　know　that　it　wasn't　asthma　or　weak　ankles　or　her　being

“delicate”　that　was　stopping　her。　It　was　her　hair。　She

had　mountains　of　it；　twisted　this　way