"People say piercings are no big deal. They can heal," I said. "But I didn't think that one was ever going to close. For months, when I ran, the hole made this chirpy, whistling sound. I'd get chased by songbirds, looking to mate."
"You and your friends should try to come up with something original," said Geoff. "Something other teenagers haven't already done."
"How about this," Celeste said, after pondering quietly for a while. "What if we dress all in white, head to toe. White lipstick. White hair. We'll call ourselves Mock Goths, or Moths."
"Cool," said Geoff. "You can leave powdery stuff behind you."
"Oh, yeah," I said. "And you can bang into lights over and over again."
Celeste nodded, clearly liking the idea.
"And we can lurk outside doors and rush in the second it opens," she said. "Drop into food. Annoy cats."
"You do that already," said Geoff.
"Or you could do like I do," I said. "Wear black anyway and pretend not to notice the hair."
Celeste was momentarily quiet again.
"You wear so much black because of its magical slimming properties, right?" she asked. "But you wouldn't have to try and trick the eye at all if you added a single item to your wardrobe. Something that would distract from both the fat and the fur."
And that is how I came to have a chicken hat of my own.
Reach Karin Fuller at karinful...@gmail.com.