"You DO know that your mum would be pissed if she heard about how mean you were to that kid?" Granola, my grams, is my only confidante. I tell her absolutely everything. I never tell anyone that I confide all my secrets to my grandmum, of coarse.

"Well, she might. But she has never really cared about me, has she? I mean, c'mon! The only thing she ever cared about was those stupid dreams of hers." I pouted, crossing one leg over the other. We were sitting in Granola's living room, watching the Exorcist. My grandma loves that movie. I personally dislike it, but I'm not going to give my grandma a reason not to want me to talk to me.

"If that's what you think. . ." Granola placed her old hands on her lap. She glanced up into the screen, watching as a scarred girl cried out vulgar words to some priest.

"Its not what I THINK, Granola. It's what I KNOW." My grams didn't look away from the screen, but I could feel she disagreed.

And I didn't care, I thought to myself.

"OMG, have you seen what he's wearing?" It was all over school. He was dressed as an elf. As an elf. All in green, with a nice little hat in everything. I mean, our school has seen weirdness before, but not like this. Not straight out weirdness, if you get what I mean.

The usual jokes were going around, the Halloween ones, and a few cruel ones. I heard rumors about panting and egg pranks being pulled, but I never really found out what Peter went through that day.

By lunch I can't help but pity him. I mean, there is no way even the most unpopular people would let him NEAR them. So I made a plan. During my last class, I quickly write a note on a small piece of paper. I stop every so often to make sure no one sees me, teacher or otherwise.

I spend about twenty minutes after school searching for or, more favorably, his locker. I find neither, to my annoyance.

But I hit some good luck, anyway. Some major good luck.

Padriac not only NOTICES me, but he checks me out. My life dream has been accomplished. Now all I have to do is make this whole incident happen again.

When I get home, I head up to my room to do whatever homework I can do on my overactive mind. All I can think is Padriac, Padriac, PADRIAC! And not all my thoughts are especially tame. I am ashamed to say some might even be NC-17.

Ashamed because nothing like this has ever happened before.

But my happy bubble is popped by my resourceful father. "Hey, honey! Guess who I met at the store today? A new mother from town. I invited her over for dinner. I think you could use the company with all the time you spend locked in your room. Her son is about your age, do you know him? His name is-"

"Peter?" I offered miserably.

"Yeah. How did you know?"

A pretty stinky plan, sure, but a plan nonetheless. Actually, if I think about it, it was partly for penance, then just to be nice. And to make it worse, actually, I was thinking about homecoming, too. I knew I had little chance for winning something like that, especially as a sophomore.

But if I won Peter over, I would at least get one vote.

Now when Peter and his mum come over for dinner, I see a major difference between them. Now, I am not racist. It's just that I find it hard to trust blacks. I mean, all through out my family history we have had bad experience with blacks. There are no blacks in my grade, but I'm sure if there were, they would hate me.

And I might just hate them back.

And, as you've probably realized, Mrs. Landon is black. And Peter isn't. He isn't even a bit black. He's got a tan, but I can tell it's the sun kind of tan, not the my-mum's-black kind of tan.

I looked at my dad, who seemed quite the gracious host. He didn't seem tense about her skin at all. Not that that surprised me. The bad feeling about blacks comes from my mum's side of the family.

Danny runs over to Peter and wraps his arms around him like an old friend. But of course, Danny is also ten years old and not exactly the best example for courtesy. But Peter, being the weirdo he is, doesn't seem to mind. Peter pats Danny on the back and whispers something into Danny's ear. I get a flash of anger from Danny's surprised grin. I never get that kind of reaction from him.

Ever.

"Dinner is just about ready." My dad lets that sink in before he cracks up. "I've always wanted to say that! Come on into here, I've made my famous lasagna!"

With a bunch of chatter our family and theirs enter the dining room. My dad worked to make this room clean and pretty for today. I don't like this new side of my dad, working hard to impress some lady, some lady who's not his wife.

Not that I care what Mum'll think. Other people will start talking if they see my dad with another woman. A single woman, I note.

Single with a child, no less. And, since I'm not really ready to just invite this woman into my life with open arms I begin with most insulting question I can think of. "So, where is your husband this lovely night, that he has not accompanied you to our home?" I get an angry look from my father and I shrug helplessly in return.

"He's a couple miles away, I think. Six feet under, to be exactly." She says this in a jokingly tone, but her face saddens. My father attempts to lift up her spirit by telling her his best jokes.

Mrs. Landon smiled politely at most of them, seeing as my father is not the funniest guy in the world.

But eventually the conversation sparks up between my father and this woman, and I can do little but glare from under my eyelashes.

Peter sits there silently, not having said a single thing since that message to Daniel. As soon as dinner is finished, I am surprised when my father asks me to take Peter to my room to hang out.

As I roll my eyes and head upstairs, I mutter under my breath, "What am I, a decoy for the children of your love slaves?" But as soon as Daniel, Peter and I arrived upstairs, Daniel managed to drag Peter off to HIS room. So they both just LEAVE me there, standing in the hall like a lost pigeon.

So even at the start my plan was beginning to fail.