Shouldn't You Be in School? (All The Wrong Questions)

by Lemony Snicket

“Are you awake?” I asked me, but it wasn’t me who was talking. It hadn’t been all along. I turned my head and ached and blinked and found myself staring into a pair of green eyes. They blinked below a pair of eyebrows curled up like question marks, and after she blinked, the girl gave me a smile that might have meant anything. “Lemony Snicket,” she said. “Ellington Feint,” I said. Her hair was black again—last I’d seen her it had been blond, so she could disguise herself as Cleo Knight. It was longer now, and twisted into two skinny braids that looked like sleeping snakes. “Don’t call me Ellington Feint,” she said, and put down a handkerchief she was holding. It was knotted to hold something that she’d put under my nose to wake me up. “Here I’m using a different name. I’ve registered at the Wade Academy under the name Filene N. Gottlin.” “That’s scarcely believable,” I said. “I changed the letters around in ‘Ellington Feint’ so my assumed name would be an anagram of my real one. I suppose you could think of a better one?” “Lifelong Intent,” I said. “Entitling Felon. No Flint Gentile. I’ve been thoroughly trained in anagrams.