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Description
i have ten different names for myself and none of them rhyme. i give them out in rotation to people i don't know. it's a gift to each one in exchange for bummed cigarettes and small talk.

while waiting for the bus one day, a latino boy asked for my name when i asked for a light. i told him it was amanda, the name of a girl i hate. i started mimicking amanda's way with words and brash antisocial attitude. we talked for five minutes before he had to leave. later, when i saw him walking through the mall, he avoided eye contact.

after fifteen minutes of sitting next to an old christian woman in the student center, the woman turned to me and asked where i came into possession of the silver crucifix i was wearing on a delicate chain around my neck. i had picked it out of a puddle outside a church that morning, but i told her my mother gave it to me while saying, "lillie, this is a symbol of your love of jesus." when i am lillie i am a good catholic girl. i wear my crucifix and avoid using contractions.

sam doesn't like make-up because she says it makes her skin break out. when she orders the first of her three double shot soy white mochas from starbucks she tells the clerk her name is ellen because she doesn't like how the girl looks at her.

rose was raped last year by a big white boy with orange hair and freckles on his arms. he liked how smooth her skin looked. she stabbed him with her nail file while she was under him, but he paid her back later when she didn't get her period.

one of my names is a secret and i'll never tell anyone. i keep it in a little bundle under my tongue where no one will find it. when i'm alone, i bring it out and toss it around like a delicate vase i shouldn't be holding. it's a secret name i gave myself because it means all of the other names but it sounds just like the ocean. when i whisper it to myself before i sleep i can smell the sea in my pillow.

Description
i have ten different names for myself and none of them rhyme. i give them out in rotation to people i don't know. it's a gift to each one in exchange for bummed cigarettes and small talk.

while waiting for the bus one day, a latino boy asked for my name when i asked for a light. i told him it was amanda, the name of a girl i hate. i started mimicking amanda's way with words and brash antisocial attitude. we talked for five minutes before he had to leave. later, when i saw him walking through the mall, he avoided eye contact.

after fifteen minutes of sitting next to an old christian woman in the student center, the woman turned to me and asked where i came into possession of the silver crucifix i was wearing on a delicate chain around my neck. i had picked it out of a puddle outside a church that morning, but i told her my mother gave it to me while saying, "lillie, this is a symbol of your love of jesus." when i am lillie i am a good catholic girl. i wear my crucifix and avoid using contractions.

sam doesn't like make-up because she says it makes her skin break out. when she orders the first of her three double shot soy white mochas from starbucks she tells the clerk her name is ellen because she doesn't like how the girl looks at her.

rose was raped last year by a big white boy with orange hair and freckles on his arms. he liked how smooth her skin looked. she stabbed him with her nail file while she was under him, but he paid her back later when she didn't get her period.

one of my names is a secret and i'll never tell anyone. i keep it in a little bundle under my tongue where no one will find it. when i'm alone, i bring it out and toss it around like a delicate vase i shouldn't be holding. it's a secret name i gave myself because it means all of the other names but it sounds just like the ocean. when i whisper it to myself before i sleep i can smell the sea in my pillow.