There’s still a bit of animosity between her and me, Missy and myself.  I’m not sure, really, whether she still talks to Tiffany though.  It’s probably for the best, the silence we’ve established – Missy isn’t really Missy anymore anyway.  Missy, now known as Martie, changed her name back in high school, a way of creating for herself a new identity.  The problem was it never really fit.  Sorta like the person who insists on wearing clothes a size too small, this new identity appears forced, squeezed into, Missy jamming herself into an ill-fitting Martie. And yet, at the same time, Missy never could separate herself from the mask, Martie exacted society’s prescription; in other words, despite the mismatch, Missy still took on the roles she created too completely – nothing left of her.

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