No More No More

An Introduction

Before I begin my story, I'd like to introduce myself so that I don't feel rude later on. First off, my name is Anne Michelle Capello (that's cah-pell-oh). Please please please don't call me Anne. It's Annie. I am blond, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid (no offense, if you are). That's right, folks, a straight-A blond girl. I have the greenest eyes you'll ever see, too. I live in a considerably large apartment with my mom, dad, and older brother William. Directly below my apartment lives my best friend, Anthony. Anthony is exactly one and a half years older than me, and he's giving me hell about it, because it's his senior year. We moved to Hopedale, Massachusetts right after my fourth birthday (which is March 10th, by the way), and I met Anthony that summer. We've been virtually inseparable since then. I was the first person he ever played guitar in front of. He was the first person I ever played the harmonica in front of. Now we jam together all the time (well, used to). My harmonica playing was more of a hobby, but Anthony's guitar playing seemed more of a lifestyle. The first time I ever snuck out was to hang out with him.

It's quite easy to sneak out, actually. My bedroom window exits to a fire-escape, and right down the steps is his window. He leaves it cracked just enough to slide my fingers under to open it up. We have a secret code, too, so that we know it's each other and not some creepy murderer or rapist. I almost beat him with a shoe before we established our code which happens to be the "Na-Na" rhythm from Hey Jude by the Beatles. The Beatles are this great English rock group that's all the rage right now.

Anyway, the year is nineteen sixty-eight. I'm seventeen; a junior. My birthday was just a few days ago, and today marks the first day of spring break. Every year for Spring Break, my parents go on a "honeymoon." I'm left to stay with Anthony, because my grandparents still live in Ohio. My parents have to go during my break because my dad is a teacher and it's also his Spring Break. I'm not sure why I still go to Anthony's, I'm plenty old enough to stay home, but his mom makes good breakfasts and I can't cook worth a dime.

Although we're very similar, Anthony and I look completely opposite from one another. He's got the darkest of dark hair, dark eyes, and wears glasses. We are both skinny, but he pulls it off better.

I'm not sure where I got my green eyes, my dad's are bright blue, but mom's are chocolatey-brown. It's not a question where I got my blond hair and ski-slope nose from. My mom's blond curls have been as perfect as the lady with the pink apron on all the boxes of everything you buy at a store since day one. Though my hair is straight like my dad's.

But that's enough about me for now. On with the exciting things!