The Letter 'F'

"So, Cali, who's the guy?" asked Verica with her [f]antastic accent. Even though I liked her the best of the five, I hated her the most. She's a Barbie Girl, but better: blonde, tall, tan, intelligent and European.

The ultimate [F]emme [F]atale.

"Who was who?" I said, kicking my shoes under my bunk. They all piled themselves above me.

"Oh, you know," Ema said, no accent. She was very Americanized, almost ghetto. "The gangly white boy."

"The adorable gangly white boy." Natalia swooned.

"The guy!" Darija yelled over both o[f] them. It was chaos.

"Oh," I muttered, seeing no out. "That was Neil."

"Neil!" They all squealed at once. I nearly barfed of teen-girl-ness.

"Yeah, but guys, leave it alone. I had Equestrian today... I'm tired."

"Oh, no way." Lara quipped, very uncharacteristically. "You'll have no sleep until we know the details."

"Yes," the rest chanted. "Not until we know the details."

It was too [f]rightening, all those voices in unison. I conceded.

"Okay, so you've all heard of Potter Puppet Pals, right?"

The same introduction I always have to give him. It's the only thing everyone recognizes. I went on to tell them half of what I knew about him. Upon recollection, it wasn't much.
But I told them about his music and movies and his sel[f]-made magic.

Naturally, they didn't get it.

"So he's some Internet celebrity? Like Je[f][f]ree Star?"

"NO! Dear God! No!" I was appalled by their naivete. "He's nothing like that. Nothing like that!"

Verica put her hand on my shoulder as the general racket subsided.

"I agree, he's something di[f][f]erent."

"Thank you."

"But this means we're upping your diet."

I rolled my eyes and threw myself into the pillows, exhaling.

"{F}uck."