Monday, 15th October 1979

  It's been hardly one month since the beginning of the new school year, and the concerted war against me has been clearly escalating: Wherever I am, I hear loud jeers, mocking laughter and malevolent comments. I usually can't understand the words, maybe because I have developed a sort of hysterical deafness. My classmates avoid me as much as possible; they even refuse to sit with me, as if I were a leper. It often happens that four girls sit crammed at one desk, while I sit all alone.

  Anyway, the whole situation seems to be a mystery: Even if I were “haughty”, “conservative”, “wayward”, “a mollycoddle” and I don't know what else I'm accused of, would all that hostility against me be really justified? After all, I never annoy anybody; in fact, I hardly speak to anybody. Or am I the only “nerd” in the whole school?

  Wednesday, 24th October 1979

  As if all the above weren't enough, during the breaks I often see an old acquaintance, who is no other than Vlassis! Apart from some sarcastic looks, I can't say that he bothers me while at school. However, more often than not, I happen to meet him outdoors and he is seldom alone; there is always a group of trumps around him, who all have a common target: me! This means that almost every day I have to confront gangs of bums who deride, jeer, or swear at me in streets, buses, public places, everywhere!

  This afternoon, as I was returning from school by bus, I soon got aware of some commotion around me. There were about a dozen boys who were jeering and pointing at me, full of insolence, while the other passengers were looking at me in wonder. I didn't react anyhow; I only pretended nothing was happening.

  In the evening, mum and I paid a visit to aunt Pauline. I was astonished when she said that she was in that bus too and that I looked very sad and miserable. “Why that long face, Yvonne? People would think: Who knows what problems the poor girl has!”, she commented. I denied having any problems, but I wondered: First of all, why didn't I notice her at all? And how is it possible that she didn't get wind of what was happening in the bus?

  Friday, 9th November 1979

  With a view of the National Pan-Hellenic Examinations, since the beginning of this month I have been attending a local tutorial school called “Cyclotron”. I spend three hours every evening there, which really tires me a lot. I have tuition in maths, physics and chemistry, since I have chosen to study exact sciences -although my marks are more suitable for classical studies, as a mistress told my mother.

  The problem is that I have to study extra for the tuition centre; therefore, I don't have enough time for my regular homework. Moreover, I don't feel comfortable with the other pupils. During the breaks I usually stand alone in the balcony, waiting for someone to talk to me; I have tried to approach them a few times but it felt too difficult -maybe because their common disgust against me is getting more and more obvious day by day...

  Thursday, 15th November 1979

  No matter how hard I've tried to ignore it, a new incubus has come for me inside the rooms of “Cyclotron”: Without my provoking it anyhow, certain pupils have it in for me. They constantly glare, swear or jeer at me with abnormal persistence, often carrying away the others. The fact is that the whole class has now turned against me. During the lessons there is a continuous, derisive hubbub of jarring giggles, hateful insults, vulgar mockeries, all of which target me and nobody else.

  As a result, I sit all alone at one of those two-metre-long desks, while the rest of the pupils sit crammed, four or five together at one desk. Every time I raise my hand to answer a question, the whole class bursts into mad laughter, as if they were keyed up. It is weird though, that the masters are never annoyed by all this fuss and they never make the slightest remark to the trouble makers.

  This evening a new boy came and sat next to me. He didn't stay long: Probably because I didn't speak to him with the required feminine, mincing manner, he sprang up from his seat and squashed himself together with four other boys at the front desk, saying: “Make some room for me, because she is in a bad mood!” There followed a torrent of wolfish roars and guffaws.

  Thursday, 6th December 1979

  This evening it was impossible for me to pay any attention to the lessons in “Cyclotron”. There was a incessant, resonant farrago of mocking giggles, jeers and catcalls all around me. Suddenly, everybody burst into loud laughter. Instinctively looking up, I saw an open palm rising over my head, while the whole class was resounding with crazy laughter. The hand belonged to Dimitri Mavros, who sits right behind me. He is an ugly, skinny gipsy with black frizzy hair, dark skin and goggled eyes, and he is always the ringleader of the fuss. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?” I told him angrily. He crouched back and chuckled ironically. The rest of the class took a quarter to calm down. The teaching master didn't react anyhow, as if he were absent.

  Wednesday, 9th January 1980

  That was unhoped-for, but my mother finally agreed to my dropping out of the tutorial school since it offers me nothing, as I explained to her. I had been thinking about telling her so for two weeks, but I hesitated because I feared she might repeat “Don't pay any heed to those who mock you; just pay attention to the lessons, that's why you go there” -like she told me the other day, when I first tried to talk to her about my problems in “Cyclotron”. Anyway, this afternoon I finally persuaded her to phone and inform them that I won't continue my tuition there. My relief was beyond description.

  Sunday, 10th February 1980

  This evening my family and I visited the renowned Monastery of Saint Irene in Lykovrisi. Then we decided to call on uncle Sebastian, who's my father's second cousin and he lives nearby. Fortunately, all three of his sons were at home and it proved to be a very positive experience, just like their visit to us three years ago.

  Indeed, I wonder: Why do I feel so spontaneously free and comfortable when I am in the company of these cousins, and not at all “reserved”, “nervous” or “boring”, as usual? Maybe because they don't treat me as if I were that...

  And a strange coincidence: The second son has an organ exactly similar to mine (make and model). The eldest has a piano and he played a classical piece for us. He performed very well, and we all amazed at his skill.

  A little later my cousins, Alice and I went for a walk in the park. I was greatly surprised when I found out that the pianist was not only unimpressed by my sister's sex-related ribaldry, but exasperated as well. He is probably the only person I have ever met who wasn't fascinated by my sister's mincing manners! I explained to him that adolescents of today get crazy when they hear the word “love”, I humoured him a little and he calmed down.

  I hope to meet those cousins soon, and keep our nice friendship alive. However, I will never see them again...

  Tuesday, 1st April 1980

  This afternoon my mother and I paid a visit to aunt Pauline. Gregory was there too. He is in the third class of gymnasium now. We don't play in the streets any more, but our relationship has improved a lot. Anyway, I was astonished to see that Gregory got the second trimester report with an average grade of 17. I found that rather strange, since in the first trimester he had an average of 14, as usual. I don't know how to explain this mystery, but I've heard his parents have recently joined some political club.

  ... Next trimester Gregory's average grade will fall back to 14. Why indeed? Did anything go wrong with the club?

  Saturday, 14th July 1980

  This evening Mrs Lucy, my mother and I went to the local cinema. There was an adventure film on. As soon as we sat on the white fabric chairs, I heard a mocking voice calling my name, amongst hundreds of spectators. Turning my head back, I saw Vlassis and some of his underlings, who were sitting three rows behind me. I tried to ignore them but the trumps kept on jeering at me and I could no longer contain myself. I turned back again, showed them both my open palms and shouted: “Here, that's for you!”

  Three seconds later Vlassis was standing in the aisle next to me, his face red as never before, pretending to be unfairly offended.

/>   “Did you show your palms at me?” he asked with a solemn face.

  “Yes, I did!” I replied sharply.

  He asked the reason why, there were mutual protests, complaints and confusion.

  “Why do you make fun of Yvonne?” intervened my mother. “Yvonne never bothers anybody, why do you and your friends make fun of her all the time?”

  “I don't make fun of her! There are some guys, who mock her...”

  “You tell them to mock me!” I popped up in a fluster.

  “Don't you go to school, young man?” mum asked then.

  “I am a sailor!”

  Really? That's why we've missed you for a few happy months?

  At that point we dropped the subject, Vlassis returned to his seat, and mum hastened to scold me: “You shouldn't have done that! By showing your open palms at him, you let everybody in the cinema know who Yvonne is!”

  “If I had let the rascals jeering at me during the whole film, wouldn't the others have seen who I am?” I retorted.

  “Let's hope that Lucy didn't get wind of that!” sighed my mother.

  Friday, 25th July 1980

  I passed the class with an average grade of 16,5 -just like last year. Not much of a success. I didn't do so well in the Pan-Hellenic Exams either: Composition 12.5, Maths 11.5, Physics 14, Chemistry 16.5.

  I had studied everything perfectly for the maths exam, apart from a note which contained an insignificant mathematical formula; during the school year, we had not dealt with it at all. Yet, one of the two problems given in the exam could be solved only with that formula! I did not panic, I used my brains and managed to find the answer by applying practical arithmetic.

  Eventually, however, the master who corrected my paper was not moved by my effort and gave me a 11.5...

  Wednesday, 31st December 1980

  We had some very bad news today, which really spoilt New Year's Eve: Uncle Jerry, my mother's brother, died of heart attack at the age of 52 this afternoon. His unexpected death shocked us all.

  Uncle Jerry was an interesting person: He used to visit us often, he brought us chocolate cakes and talked about many philosophical subjects. Since he had no family of his own, my mother had to spend the last day of the year arranging the funeral. My sister and I stayed at home together with aunt Pauline. Detail: A big flower pot disappeared from our yard three days ago; mum regarded the fact as a bad omen.

  ... The very next day, Mrs Lemony will come to offer her condolences, pretending to be devastated for the loss of a man she hardly knew -since she hasn't spoken to us for years...

  Chapter 13: Class C Lyceum