Read Too Much Drama for Free Online

pounds of turkey, and four pounds of roast beef,” he reported. Then he told me he has twelve days left of work, which means if he slices approximately fifteen pounds of meat each day, he will be retired from the deli business “in exactly one hundred and eighty pounds.”
    â€œOf meat?” I asked.
    â€œOf meat,” Leo confirmed.
    I giggled. “What’s it like slicing all that meat?” I asked Leo.
    He cleared his throat and was talking in an authoritative sounding voice. “That depends on which meat you’re talking about.”
    I sat back on my bed and listened as Leo talked about the different slicing challenges inherent in ham and turkey. He’d just gotten to roast beef when June barged into my room. “April, the cookies are burning!” she said.
    â€œI have to go!” I told Leo. I dropped my phone and raced to the kitchen, but it was too late. The Christmas cookies June and I had baked were black.
    â€œCrap!” I said as I took the tray from the oven.
    â€œYou’re not supposed to swear,” said June. She looked like she was about to cry.
    â€œI’m sorry,” I said.
    â€œAbout burning the cookies or swearing?” asked June.
    â€œBoth.”
    â€œCan we make more?” June asked.
    â€œNot now.” I told her. I really had to study. “Maybe Dad will help you bake some more when he gets back after the tournament.”
    June seemed content to wait. But it was a mistake to tell her to wait for Dad to bake more, because when he got home, she told him that we baked cookies, and I let them burn.
    â€œApril, that’s not like you to allow cookies to burn,” said Dad when he came into my room after June told him what happened. It was annoying that he’d decided to read into why I’d let the cookies burn.
    â€œIt wasn’t a big deal,” I said glancing up at him from my textbook.
    But Dad seemed to think it was a bigger deal than I was letting on. “Was there something on your mind?” he asked.
    â€œYeah,” I said. “Biology.” I didn’t think I needed to share with him that it wasn’t the only thing on my mind.
    â€œApril, I know you and Brynn have had some issues lately. You’ve been friends for a long time. Why don’t you try talking to her?”
    Dad paused like he was debating if he wanted to say more, but I beat him to the punch. I really didn’t want to get into a whole conversation about Brynn with him. “Dad, I really need to study.”
    â€œOK,” he said. “Focus on school.”
    â€œI’m trying to,” I said. I was proud of myself for not saying that it would be a whole lot easier to do that if he’d stop trying to talk to me and go.
    But before Dad left my room, he gave me a look. “April, I’m always here if you want to talk.”
    â€œThanks, Dad.” I appreciated that he wanted to help. There have been lots of times when talking to Dad has been helpful. But I didn’t feel up to it today. I don’t know if I was annoyed by the topic or by Dad’s prying.
    Probably a little of both.
    Monday, December 15, 4:45 p.m.
Went to a study session
Didn’t do much studying
    It’s exam week, and today was a study day. Since we didn’t have to go to class, Billy, Sophie, and I decided we’d all study together for our English test tomorrow.
    We met at Billy’s house, and we were sitting at his kitchen table, studying our vocab words, but it was hard to focus.
    We were trying to think up mnemonic devices to help us remember the meanings of words. Billy was great at it. When he grows up, it could be his job. He’d get rich quick thinking up funny ways to remember the definitions of words.
    For
supercilious
, which means arrogant, he came up with super silly ass. (For which his mom called him by his full name and gave a disapproving look. “No, like a donkey!” he said, although I