Chapter 1

"It's better to be a good listener than a good talker, because the good listener can remember what was said." As hard as it is for me to admit that my father says anything that makes sense, when I apply that little ditty to conversations with my best friend, Cherise, he hits the nail right on the head. Whenever we do something that doesn't pertain to her, like standing in front of the study abroad office, she gets really antsy. Most times it's a lot of eye-rolling and an occasional huff, but today she doesn't last more than ten seconds before she says, "So why are we standing here again? For that nerd thing you're trying to get into?"

I look at her sideways and grumble, "Yes, for YSSAP."

"What 'sap'?"

Cherise has been my best friend since the third grade, and over the past six and a half years, this type of conversation has played itself out time and time again. I guess that's what I get for doing ninety-five percent of the listening. "YSSAP, Young Scholars Study Abroad Program."

"Sounds like loads of fun," she sighs.

"Don't be a hater because you can't get in. You wish you could go to Spain for free."

"Whatever. Like I'd want to be in Spain with a bunch of shribs."

"I'm not a shrib"--her latest term for loser.

"If you say so . . . So how long do you plan on standing here?"

"I guess until someone comes out of the office."

Apparently that's all she needed to hear. She starts tapping on the door, waiting about three seconds before knocking harder. "There ain't nobody in there, Teenie. Let's go."

Teenie, that's what my girls call me. I'm five feet and one-quarter inch, one hundred and one pounds, with all ...