That Thursday, instead of racing Mary Kate to classes through the cold wind, I clomped alone in my motorcycle boots. Instead of gossiping with her over French fries and barbecue sauce in the dining hall at lunch, I sat by myself. And, instead of whispering and writing notes to each other in history class, we sat side by side in stony silence. When I needed a pen, I asked someone else – even though I knew Mary Kate had an adorable pencil case full of them.

Of all the days to be bummed out and lonely, this was the worst one of all. When the Toothless Beast comes to your school, let me tell you, it is a lot of hoopla. It was nuts. Seriously. Overnight, these huge green tents sprang up all around campus, there were St Mary’s banners and green balloons everywhere and the school fight song was blaring non-stop. There were big, ugly green centerpieces in the dining hall and our favorite chocolate-brownie sundaes for dessert.

Okay, I didn’t exactly hate that. But the rest of it was irritating – the buzzing hum of excitement and everyone rushing everywhere and all the bright camera flashes from the local Minnesota news channel that usually only covers stories about black bears spotted rifling through dumpsters. From the ecstatic way they were chattering into their microphones, you’d think another royal baby had been born.

Everywhere I went by myself, everyone else was clustered together, chattering in excitement, debating anxiously:

‘Do you think he’ll like St Mary’s? What if he doesn’t like it? He HAS to like it, right?’

Bitter and alone, I rolled my eyes and made snorting sounds. On one hand, who would like the homework, the rules and the iced-over owl pellet of ass-aching boredom that was St Mary’s? On the other hand, obviously, the Toothless Beast was going to like it. The chocolate brownies were practically in the shape of his face. He was taking a magical train to a magical land where everyone worshiped him. He would love it for the same reason Harry Potter was voted ‘Biggest Full-of-Himself Twat’ in the Hogwarts Yearbook: the whole world revolved around him.

But did I care? Did I give a single green-ribboned Dominic LeClair-shaped chocolate-coated shit if the Toothless Beast decided to come to St Mary’s? Hell, no!

Because I’d be gone before he got here. I officially decided on Thursday night, after Mary Kate came back from the library and went straight to bed without speaking a word to me. As I lay there in my silent bunk in the dark, I made up my mind. I was going to get kicked out, with one last, big, fiery gesture of defiance: I was going to burn my bra.