Dear Miffy Read Free Page A

like—they get their teeth into an idea like that and they’re worse than vampires with virgins, they never let go. So I shut up fast.
    But I’ll tell you what I did. I never told you this before. I followed you home. I was like a stalker! I felt pretty weird about it, but I just had to know more about your life. I followed you to the station and waited till you’d gone down to one end of the platform, then I went up to the other end. And when you got off at Kramer I mixed in with the crowd and kept about a hundred metres behind as you went down Ferris Avenue. You went left at St Peter’s Street—well, I don’t need to tell you cos I guess you know the way to your own house—and it got tricky then cos it’s such a quiet street. I had to stay way, way back. I was worried you’d go into some house and I wouldn’t even be able to see which one. Then you crossed the road to Moriah Place. As soon as you’d gone I ran over there. Must have looked bloody suss to anyone who was watching. Luckily, I don’t think anyone was. I was just in time to see you going into this mansion. I thought, ‘Geez, unbelievable.’ I mean, fair dinks, Miff: I’d only seen places like yours on TV. I thought it must have been about a hundred years old, your house, all that ivy and stuff. All white and big and them green shutters, and the garden out the front with them roses and all that other shit. And the tennis court. I mean, fuck.
    I couldn’t get that close because I was scared you’d see me, but I got a good-enough view. I watched for about ten minutes, then this lady came along with her dog and she looked at me like I was a used condom and the dog growled at me like I was a kilo of steak, so I thought I’d better rack off.
    But I hated you even worse after that. Just, I don’t know, not exactly because you were rich. Because you seemed like you had everything, I guess. I felt like I had nothing and you had it all. I tried to imagine what it’d be like living in a place like that and I couldn’t even start. It’s like you’re trying to tune a radio and you can’t even find a station. I felt sick every time I thought about you inside that big house.
    That’s when we had that fight at PE. You remember? We were doing netball and I got this bib saying WA and you said, ‘What’s that stand for: wanker?’ and you had one with a C. I said, ‘What’s that stand for: cunt?’ and you chucked the ball at me and then tried to rip my face off. I won that fight, too—or at least I was winning it until Ellis broke it up.
    That was the first time we got sent to Hammond together, like for the same offence. We sat there in the corridor, steam coming out of our ears. Hammond made us shake hands! Can you believe it? What a dickhead. Then that big speech about my being on probation and shit. I don’t reckon he had a right to say so much in front of you. It was none of your business.
    Then, when we got outside, you said, ‘What are you on probation for?’ and I said, ‘None of your fucking business.’ I just couldn’t believe what was happening, that Hammond had opened up my life to you like that. Like, you’d tried to rip my face off and failed, and then he comes along and kind of rips it off anyway. You know what I mean? All the stuff he said about me, a lot of that was real private. I’m getting mad all over again thinking about it now. ‘I know your mother leaving so suddenly like that, and then what happened with your brother, these things have been difficult for you to deal with.’ He was saying stuff like that. Fuck him. I couldn’t believe I was hearing it. If I hadn’t been in so much trouble already I would have gone him, I reckon. But what hope have you got? You can’t beat those blokes.
    Another thing that really got me, I couldn’t figure how anyone living in your kind of