Finding Cassie Crazy (25 page)

Cassie
You're a psychopath. I ask myself: why would anybody write
another
letter to me (a
perfumed
letter)? Is she retarded? And then I realise: she must have the hots for me so bad it's sick.

You must have one of those diseases where you get obsessed with a guy and you can't stop liking him even if he tells you you're a stupid slag.

You're so deranged in the head, I feel sorry for you.

Get over me, Cassie.

Yours faithfully
Matthew Dunlop

Monday

Dear Seb
Thanks for the update. Don't feel bad. It's not your fault if the plan didn't work.

It's the fault of the plan.

I thought about it over the weekend and I realised it was stupid. This is why: the perfume from a letter wouldn't hang around in a noticeable way for longer than thirty seconds.

This is also why: you could find a guy who had that perfume smell and it wouldn't prove a thing, because maybe it's an innocent guy who's been getting it on with his girlfriend and the girlfriend wears the perfume.

So don't lose sleep over it. I'll come up with another plan soon. There's no way this guy's getting away with what he's done, and if he thinks he's got away with it, he's as stupid as a goalkeeper.

Why exactly are goalkeepers stupid?

Hello, it's me again. I had to stop writing to play a game of squash. Now the pen is slippery because of my sweaty hands.

Cass has just finished her game and is leaning back in the chair beside me with her feet on the table, not sweating at all. She's an athlete. I'll ask if she wants to say hi to you.

She said no thanks.

Then, you know what she said? (She's gone to buy a drink so she can't see me telling you this.) She said that she's planning to write to Matthew Dunlop
again
. She says he
replied
to her letter (but she didn't want to show me what he wrote), so now he has the last word again.

I gave her a lecture about last words. Specifically, about how they are fine in the short term, but if you keep on hitting last words back and forth, the words get out of control and spill all over the squash court.

She said I made no sense and went to get us drinks.

Anyway, if she's writing to him again, I'm going to fill the envelope with crushed glass and all you have to do is look out for the guy in your English class with bleeding hands.

No, in fact, I've decided to put a lot of colourful glitter in the envelope. I'll pick some up at the newsagent. If you've had any experience with colourful glitter you'll know that at least one or two bits of it stick to your hands or your face and stay there for days, even if you have a shower. Also, that it glints when the sun hits it.

See you
Lydia

Tuesday

Dear Lydia
I will now watch with hawk-like vision for a guy in my English class with specks of glitter on his cheeks.

Lydia, are you interested in meeting me for a game of squash this weekend?

Seb

Dear Em
My good buddy Seb Mantegna is an artist. He's like Van Goff or someone, he's that good. He just got chosen to be the one person from the whole school district to take some of his art along to a contest in Newcastle. Plus, as we know, he is friendly with your buddy Lyd.

So maybe we should get HIM to draw up the identikit photo for Cass? All five of us could meet someplace and watch him sketch while Cass describes, and it would be a hoot and a blast as my mother would say.

Think about it.

Another thing, maybe the so-called Matthew Dunlop said something useful in his letters to Cass? Maybe he told her some identifying details/clues etc, which you could pass on to me? Then I could track him down?

I just realised it's Wednesday tomorrow. Do you want to make Wednesday a regular Meeting-a-Girl-by-Chance kind of day?

Charlie

Hey Charlie
Yes! I know. It was a good idea asking Cass about clues in the letters. But what she has disclosed to me is that she thinks EVERYTHING that this ‘Matthew Dunlop' said in his letters to her was a LIE. He is a real piece of work, as
my
mother would say.
Respectfully
Emily
PS It is clear that we need to work on Meeting a Girl by Chance, as you do not understand it. You don't ARRANGE a REGULAR meeting by chance. It must happen by chance. Certainly, I will be leaving school around 4.30 tomorrow afternoon, but what of it?
PPS I am pretty sure it is not ‘Van Goff ' but ‘Van Go'. But there is no need to be embarrassed.

Wednesday

Matthew
I wish I knew your real name. I sometimes think that if I just wrote out that name, in a slow, careful way, I might be able to reach the person inside your head.

Here's what I think: that you decided to use a fake name in your first letter, trying to make me go away and the fake name became a whole character. And then you couldn't get out of character.

Don't worry—this is going to be my last letter. I won't write again—and please don't write to me. I don't want your pen writing my name.

I'm not a lunatic, it's just that my dad died around this time last year. I never told you that. I've been trying to get better because I think it's been long enough, but sometimes I think it was easier last year, just crying on Lyd's and Em's shoulders. Whereas this year, I'm trying to stand up on my own.

The counsellor told me the way to do that was to find a perfect stranger and tell them about myself, and guess what, I chose you. It's funny, because you're such a perfect stranger, Matthew Dunlop, that you don't even exist.

Anyway, I'm writing now, to let you know that you don't know me. You think you got into my head—you think all that gabbling in my letters was the real me. But it wasn't, it was only words.

You only saw a crazy me. Or you only saw lots of tiny pieces of me, like an envelope full of glitter.

Yours truly
Cassie

Thursday

Dear Charlie
Well, you have improved even more on Meeting a Girl by Chance. In particular, I liked your addition to the small smile, which was when you raised one finger in the air to say hello.

I don't know what to do about tracking down Matthew Dunlop. The identikit idea seems to be of no enthusiasm to Lyd or Cass, which, go figure.

I do think that the solution is for you to walk around to
every guy in your English class and whisper ‘Matthew Dunlop' into each guy's ear.

Now, I
know
you laughed heartily at me when I suggested this yesterday afternoon. I know you kept pretending to take it seriously and trying to rehearse by whispering in my ear. I know it was very humorous as I get ticklish when someone whispers in my ear, especially when they whisper nonsense such as ‘Toblerone'.

Yes, hahdy ha, Charlie, very hahdy ha.

But I don't know what to do. I am at a loss and so is Lyd, and Cass seems sadder than ever.

Love
Emily

Dear Seb
So, listen, Cass just told me she sent the letter yesterday afternoon. I was starting to think she wouldn't send it and I didn't know what to do. I hope you're watching out for a glittering boy.