Andrews @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } 3 Playing the Part I fell asleep in my chair, dreaming about the love story Mommy and I had created in the attic. It wasn't what I had intended to do, but it almost didn't matter that I didn't come up with a story to tell the Nosy Parkers in school. I decided to simply ignore their curiosity and hope they would stop gaping at me, but Grandmother Beverly was right about gossip, especially about gossip concerning us. It had its own life, its own momentum. People act like they don't want anything to do with you, but as soon as they can learn something about you, they seize it and then take great pleasure in spreading the news, especially if it's bad news. It didn't take too long, less than forty-eight hours, actually. Classes at my school might as well have been interrupted and an announcement delivered over the public-address system that went something like. "Attention, attention. Two days ago Cinnamon Carlson's mother had a mental breakdown." That was how fast the news about my family spread.
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