Chapter 8
It took me a minute or so to tell everything to Deppy, but Billy was a whole other thing. I had to call him on the phone like a Neanderthal.
“So, are you?” he asked.
“What?”
“Pregnant.”
“No!”
“Interesting…” he said and I could just picture him taking the Spock pose.
“I sent you the pictures on your email.”
“OK, but I can’t see them yet. I’ll call you when I get home.”
What. A. Freak.
Who doesn’t check his emails on his phone in this day and age?
I checked my profile. A few more likes here and there, two more sleazy comments, deleted, reported, thank you… Huh. Seven check-ins at the coffee shop I just came from.
Copycats. Bunch o’ copycats. I let them know with an appropriately punny cat pic.
Anyway, I was late for frontistirio. Frontistirio is a private cram school, where they teach you the things school ought to teach you but doesn’t, so everybody needs to spend more time and money to pass the exams. I thought it was the norm, but I learned much later that it is solely a Greek thing.
I picked up my bag and hit the road.
It was like a three minute walk from my house, so took my time and window-shopped a bit.
Eventually, I got myself there, but I was late even when I started, then I was a bit late again with my detour, and most of the class-hour was gone anyway so I just sat outside at the bench and waited for the next one.
It’s not like I had studied for either one.