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Back Anne of Greenville Save as PDF
Chapters (31)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. NOTE FROM THE PUBLISHER
  5. ONE
  6. TWO
  7. THREE
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  31. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

And maybe I didn’t want to.

I was carrying Monty home when I got a text from Berry.

More pizzas. And rainbow emojis. And unicorns. All arranged in patterns around a single sentence.

BERRY

SEE YOU TOMORROW, PIZZA FIGHTER!

SIX

Okay, so my first day at Greenville High, and let’s say my general entry into Greenville as a whole, had not gone great.

And that was not entirely my fault, obviously. Like, I think the record will show it wasn’t just me. But I had also lost my temper and as a result gotten the cutting and accurate reprimand from Millie.

The next day when Lucy woke up, I had already prepared a stack of (store-bought mix) pancakes for her and made her coffee and packed her lunch with a sandwich and cut-up celery.

Lucy took the lunch bag from me and took a moment to eyeball my outfit. Which was probably my most notable to date. Because it was entirely. . .normal.

“Where did you get those clothes?” she asked, feeling the lunch bag on the sly for leaks because I have, in the past, packed Lucy lunches that leaked.

“My closet,” I said, pointing at the bag, “And I wrapped everything in there up, so don’t worry. No leaks.”

The shirt was actually Millie’s shirt, which she got from one of the many art festivals she attended. Most of these deals gave out shirts with logos so big and sticky feeling they were almost unwearable. This shirt, fortunately, was from a minimalist image festival called “I,” so the only logo was a tiny I on the left sleeve. The jeans were jeans I had originally bought to distress and acid wash, back when I was in a more acid wash phase.

Danny, who received a photo of this outfit before I made breakfast, had kindly taken the time to text me an encouraging message.

DANNY

Have fun giving up your individuality for Greenville’s Capitalist Shitheads!!!

Lucy looked me up and down with a tiny, worried frown on her face.

“I’ll see you at school!” I chirped.

Lucy, that day, was wearing another women’s suit thing, green, with, I would say, not entirely effective gold buttons. Before she took this job, there’s no way Lucy would wear a pencil skirt made out of wool. She certainly wouldn’t wear that two days back-to-back. Really what she would normally wear was something like what I was wearing, but with khakis. Because that’s Lucy’s specific gay.