Chapters (34)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- WELCOME TO THE LILY PAD,or A Brief Introduction to Power Jam
- FULL CELIA GILBERT,or the Tragic Fate of My Tennis Racket
- THE CREATION OF THE CHORE WHEEL,or Why You Should Always Travel with a Hammer
- GO, SOUL CRUSHERS,or My Mother’s Take on Power Jam
- A PARTY,or Why I Don’t Eat Tuna in Front of Touchstone
- The Story of Ros, Part I
- A TRIP TO THE TOWN,or the Victor of the Great Flamingo Debate
- TAKING MEASUREMENTS,or the Tale of Oliver Teller’s Sprained Wrist
- THE LAST SUPPER,or the Structural Unsoundness of Veggie Burgers
- The Story of Ros, Part II
- VOYAGE TO THE TOGSHOP,or a Brief History of the Doublet
- LOVE SONG FOR A COPEPOD,or My Mom’s Take on My Tennis Coach
- The Story of Ros, Part III
- AVIAN DEMISE,or Bruised Tailbones and Lost Sunglasses
- NEEDLE AND BONE,or On Losing My Voice
- The Story of Ros, Part IV
- FRYING AN EGG,or a Compendium of Shirtless Blade Scenes
- The Story of Ros, Part V
- THE DROPPED ACORN REVISITED,or French Words That Start with W
- MASTER CLASS: THE BODY IN MOTION
- THE TRIUMVIRATE REUNITED,or Planning a Party
- DINNER THEATER,or a Crash Course in Limes
- EIGHTEEN COURT LANE,or Dog Therapy
- The Story of Ros, Part VI
- RETURN TO THE LILY PAD,or the Hilarity of a Bologna Sandwich
- THE YETI COSTUME,or Power Jam, Season Three
- JUMPING IN,or On Waiting for Guys
- A CHANCE ENCOUNTER,or Lessons I Have Learned
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Discover More
- About the Author
“I hope you’re not taking a stand against patisseries,” I said, with a kind of coaxing smile.
They looked at me for a second, their eyes sharp. Their eyebrows were thick and untouched, the left marked by a burst of white hairs where their brow curved and turned toward their nose—a lack of pigment they’d been born with, which we called Ros’s snowbrow. For a second, I thought I saw the old Ros lurking there—the one who would joke with me, who might, say, bang the table and shout, The patisseries must go!—but they dipped their head and went back to carving, moving on to the r.
The bell rang. Well. At least they weren’t taking a stand against baguettes.
I drew up a proposal during our next class, when I should’ve been listening to Ms. Wagrowski explain angular acceleration, which I needed to learn not only for my sake but also for Ros’s, who’d eschewed note-taking in favor of more carving—lightning bolts this time. That pen would never be the same. I looked up how to write a contract on my phone, and by the end of the period, this is what I’d come up with:
A VERY MODEST PROPOSAL for a VERY MODEST SUMMER of VERY MODEST FUN and VERY SERIOUS FRIENDSHIP
We (Celia Gilbert, Ros Brinkman, and Andrew Touchstone, henceforth referred to as “We” or “The Triumvirate”) propose spending the dates of June 8–August 24 (henceforth to be referred to as “The Summer”) in the town of LOVESICK FALLS, taking up residence at 6 CORBIN LANE (henceforth to be referred to as “the cabin”). The Triumvirate believe we have proved ourselves to be responsible, intelligent individuals and feel spending the summer at the cabin could benefit us on a number of levels, including
I. Personal growth
a. As we prepare for college (after all, junior year is when everything begins to count), it is important that we gain independence by
i. Preparing meals other than instant (gluten-free) mac ’n’ cheese
ii. Finding (and securing) employment
iii. Managing our own schedules
II. Physical health
a. Myriad opportunities for outdoor activities
i. Hiking
ii. Swimming
iii. Canoeing
b. A break from city pollution
i. Even though the Triumvirate reside in what is technically a “suburban” region, pollution levels are much higher in these regions than in Lovesick Falls (see appendix 1)
III. Mental health
a. Trees have been said to promote neuroplasticity (see appendix 2)
b. The Triumvirate could really use a change of scene
I included a breakdown of a budget and printed out a map with all the nearby hospitals circled, and I showed it to Touchstone and Ros that afternoon.
“You spelled independence wrong,” said Touchstone.
“What? No, I didn’t. I-n-d…”
“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to see you freak out.”
I elbowed him in the chest. He moaned and lamented his weak constitution.
“They’re really going to be gone this summer?” I asked.