Flat-Out Love - Park Jessica - Страница 8
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“I suppose he’s on Twitter, too?”
“Absolutely not. Are you?”
Julie shook her head. “I have a strong aversion to Twitter, and yet there is a social obligation that forces me to pop in and spy on celebrities now and then. I don’t get Twitter. It’s impossible to follow conversation threads, and it’s too easy to spend hours and hours clicking on random names, and the next thing you know, you’ve become infatuated with Tweet photos from the Kardashians.”
Celeste stared at her. “So are you or are you not on Facebook?”
Man, this kid was a piece of work. “Yup, I am on Facebook. And if you don’t tell your parents that, then I won’t tell them about you and Matthew. And I would be honored to be Finn’s friend.” Julie logged into the site. “Finneas or Finn?” she asked Celeste.
“Always Finn. He hates Finneas. But he made his account under Finn Is God.”
Julie laughed. “Why did he do that?”
“Because he has no interest in having undesirables from high school finding him. He gets to hide out a little more this way. Be selective. That’s important to him. Being selective with your friends.”
Julie tapped the keyboard, found the real Finn, and sent a friend request. With only thirty-two friends compared to Julie’s four-hundred-and-something, he was indeed selective. She saw Matthew’s name on Finn’s friend list and added him, too. Julie’s philosophy was that you could never have too many friends. Virtual ones, at least. She had a few real ones she could do without.
“Update your status! Update your status!” Celeste demanded. “Something funny.”
Julie thought for a moment. “How’s this?”
Julie Seagle Never moon a werewolf.
Celeste leaned her head against Julie’s shoulder. ”I like it. It’s practical and witty. Flat Finn likes it, too. Do one for him.”
This was new. Julie had never had to come up with a status update directed to someone’s flat brother.
Julie Seagle is unable to find any financially Finnish finches for Flat Finn, but will finagle finger-painting fingerling finery as a final finale. She finks.
“You have made substantial use of alliteration.” Celeste started at the computer screen. “Flat Finn is finking about it,” she said, glaring at Julie. “I, however, am not fond of this update.”
Julie typed again.
Julie Seagle You can never be too rich or too Finn.
Celeste patted Julie’s arm. “Better.”
**********
Julie cracked the ice cube tray and dropped a few cubes into her water glass. “You want some?”
Matt nodded. “Thanks.”
“Is Celeste asleep?” Julie took a glass from the cupboard.
“Out cold.”
“Are you actually packing yourself a lunch for tomorrow?” She eyed the healthy selection of carrot sticks, grapes, whole grain crackers, and a yogurt drink that Matt was putting into a lunch bag.
“I’m not actually packing myself a lunch for tomorrow. It’s for Celeste. That damn private school she’s at makes the kids take a break and nourish themselves before the teachers continue indoctrinating them with foolish lessons about Predynastic Egypt and curtal sonnets.” Matt picked up a wedge of cheese and began cutting uniform slices.
“What the hell is a curtal sonnet?” Julie lifted herself up so that she was sitting on the counter and stole a piece of cheese. “It makes me think of curds and whey.”
“It was invented by this guy, Hopkins, and the curtal sonnet has exactly three-quarters of the structure of a Petrarchan sonnet shrunk proportionally. Interestingly enough, he has an equation for it, and some argue that a true interest in sonnets stems from their relationship to math. If the Petrarchan sonnet is described as eight plus six equals fourteen, then the curtal sonnet would be twelve over two plus nine over two…” Matt put the knife down. “Julie?”
“Sorry, I think I fell asleep for a minute.” Julie yawned and patted her cheeks. “Kidding! I’m kidding! The unification of math and poetry is jaw-droppingly interesting. But you lost me at equation.”
Matt smirked. “Well, it is interesting because lots of poems have mathematical imagery or structure. Concrete triangular poems and syllabic verse, for example. Did you know that we subconsciously track the sound properties in poetry?”
“No, you subconsciously track sound properties and then wreck perfectly nice poetry by breaking it down into mathematical elements. Some of us just enjoy plain old poetry.”
Matt zipped up Celeste’s lunch bag and moved to stand in front of Julie. “I enjoy it, too. Just in a different way than you do. I can’t help it. I’m a nerd.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I suspect that on some level, you respond to the mathematical components in writing.”
“And I suspect that you’re wrong.” Julie hopped down from the counter and pointed to the lunch bag. “So will Flat Finn be needing a lunch, too?”
“Nope. He has a large breakfast. A stack of pancakes, an egg white omelet with green peppers and Swiss, and a fruit smoothie. That usually tides him over until dinner.”
Julie crossed her arms. “I’m serious. Flat Finn can’t possibly go to school with her, right?”
“He already went to Brandeis so, no, he doesn’t need to repeat seventh grade. Although they did make him take a bunch of tests in order to qualify out. He barely passed the oral exams, though, because the instructors found him withholding and tight-lipped. It’s a terribly biased system, but at least he passed and won’t have to suffer through the school’s annual reenactment of the first Thanksgiving. He has a pilgrim phobia.”
“Funny. Really, what’s the deal with Flat Finn?”
“After an unfortunate incident involving Wile E. Coyote and an anvil, Three Dimensional Finn had to change his name.”
Julie laughed. “Matt, come on! I assume this has something to do with her brother being away?”
Matt groaned. “Something like that.” He moved to the fridge, tucked the lunch bag on a shelf, and rearranged the leftover cartons.
“And nobody has suggested that she lose the accessory? I mean, she’s kind of old for this sort of thing, don’t you think? Not that I can think of a good age for it.”
He shrugged. “I don’t really know. I just follow orders and nod and smile.”
“Well, when is the real Finn coming back? That would take care of this, right? Does she take Flat Finn out of the house? What do her friends think when she shows up at soccer practice and asks if Flat Finn can play fullback?”
“No idea when Finn is coming home. He’s off on his adventures, being cool and carefree,” he said brusquely and shut the fridge. “And unless she’s at school, Celeste takes Flat Finn everywhere. But she doesn’t… She doesn’t go out much. Restaurants aren’t really an option, hence the regular takeout. She doesn’t play soccer, and she doesn’t have friends. Anything else, or are you done making fun of her?”
“Hey,” Julie softened her tone. “I am not making fun of her. I like her. Flat Finn, too. And did you say hence?”
“Yes, I said hence.” Matt busied himself cleaning off the kitchen counters. “I think it’s making a comeback.”
“But I don’t get why Celeste—”
“Leave it alone,” Matt said sharply. “I’m not saying anything else about it, OK? And please don’t bring this up with my parents.”
Julie froze. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t pry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Matt said apologetically. “Forget it. Listen, I have to take Celeste to school tomorrow morning, but after that I could help you find an apartment. I called a friend of mine who knows a realtor that I got in touch with, and he’s got some places for you to see. I assumed you wouldnassust mind a little help.”
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