FORTY-SIX - Bone Heads

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Some major drama went down in the diner after school today. And when I say drama, I'm not exaggerating one bit. In fact, there was very nearly a fist fight.

Ivy and Scarlet and Lincoln and I were sitting in a booth near the window, when we saw Axel Jespersen screech up in front of the diner and then brake hard. His right front wheel went right up on the sidewalk, too, but he didn't even seem to notice—he just slammed the door of his truck and then burst into the diner and demanded to know where Martin de Vries was.

Martin, who lives on the west side of Garcia in a cabin that's even smaller than ours, stood up from where he was sitting at the counter and said, I'm here. What the hell do you want, Axel?

I won't bore you with a play-by-play of their actual conversation, but suffice it to say that Axel was mighty pissed at Martin.

The way I understand it, Martin has an infamous goat by the name of Dexter, or rather his wife, Selinde, does. Dexter is a Nubian goat, and is apparently, the biggest Billy-Goat-Man-Whore on all the gulf islands combined. (Not that I'm into slut-shaming, but that's what the islanders call him.)

Anyway, Axel came in and threatened Martin with a tire iron because Dexter supposedly found his way into Axel's hobby farm over at Piper Station last night. The Jespersens breed angora goats, and they take it pretty seriously, so, Axel took great offence at Dexter's impromptu midnight visit – especially when the randy goat got it on with a couple of up-for-some-goat-nookie nanny goats who'd been out late, chewing their cuds, all come-hither in the moonlight. I actually don't think you couldn't really blame Dexter. I mean, he is just youthful and horny (pardon the pun) and those Angora girls do have those crazy dreads going on, plus some serious personality to boot. I get it. It's like Sydney Scott, the girl who works at the café near my old school. She's super cool, and has these crazy long dreads and a wicked tattoo of daisy chains across her chest. Plus, she always smells like cinnamon and calls me "hun," even though she is only, like, seventeen. Me and Ryan and Jeremy and Brandon all had crushes on her, but she likes this 20-year-old guy named Finn who builds super-charged race cars out of old Volvos and has a British bulldog named Heathcliff. Yeah, like any of us could compete with a guy like that!

But I digress. Back to the diner altercation. Axel eventually put down the tire iron, but he threatened to sue the de Vries, and that's when Martin said if he was so worried about his Angora girls, he should invest in a proper fence –it's what any responsible hobby farmer would do. Axel's face turned very red, and Martin shoved him, and then Alf, the owner of the diner kicked them both out and told them they weren't welcome back at the diner for a whole week. He walked back into the kitchen, shook his head, and called them a couple of bat-shit crazy morons.

Ivy texted me a minute ago and told me that she'd bumped into Martin's wife, Selinde, in the grocery store tonight, and she told Ivy she is going to start keeping Dexter tethered near her chickens and feed him mainly soy foods in an attempt to keep his testosterone levels in check. Then she said she was going to do the same for Martin, which I thought was funny (but has also made me wary now of Misty's tofu concoctions. I think I will stay away from them, just to be safe. After all, I need all the testosterone I can get!)

When I told Dad the story, he laughed so hard his ribs started hurting again. Then he said that it doesn't matter what species of male we're talking about, we're always going to do really stupid things around pretty women.

I told him he sounded like a bloody Neanderthal, and that surely our complex limbic systems had evolved beyond such base "he-man" behaviour in the last few thousand years. At which point my father laughed even harder and called me (and I quote) "a poor, misguided idiot."

I think I liked him better when he was zoned out on T3's.

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