Me and Miranda Mullaly (4 page)

4

All this week
at lunchtime I meet up with Miranda Mullaly at the school library. It's crazy but I had no idea the library was open during lunch. What a great idea!

The library, if you haven't been there, has a lot of big windows that look out onto the garden and the football field. The garden's all dead now, but it'll probably look nice once it gets warmer.

Another cool thing about the library is that you can do whatever you want there. I don't mean like talk or play games, but you can grab a book and sit and read.

But anyway, the reason I'm even at the library is because Miranda Mullaly wants to start on our project. It
really won't take us long, the way she gets right down to work. She types some stuff into her computer and scribbles a series of numbers and letters on a piece of scratch paper and runs off. Before I know what is happening, we have five books on the Brazilian tapir and the Amazon Rainforest. This is going to be a breeze.

Miranda tells me to find some information on their natural habitat, the food they eat, how long they live, how many babies they have, the usual kind of stuff you do when you have to do a science project. Miranda is going to get information on the rainforest.

She hands me two books, and I open them up and start looking through them but I'm hungry. I'm really hungry. I'm so hungry I can only think about the lunch in my bag. I have two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, an apple and orange, chocolate chip cookies, and a thermos filled with tomato soup. So I can think about my lunch but not about what the Brazilian tapir eats. I look up at Miranda and she's already got like a page of notes and now she's drawing a map. Amazing.

Tapirs are vegetarians, so the book calls them herbivores. It makes me think of my lunch again, which is an herbivore lunch. A tapir would probably like to eat my lunch.

I don't know what to do. Do I tell Miranda I'm hungry? Should I offer her one of my sandwiches? But I don't even
have to worry about it because my stomach rumbles, really loud, and, boy, is it embarrassing. I want to blame it on someone else but there's no one else around.

Miranda looks up at me and smiles.

“Are you hungry?”

“I'm so hungry it hurts.”

“I'm sorry, I forgot about lunch. If you want to go have lunch and then come back, I'll be here until the end of the period.”

“Aren't you going to have lunch?”

“I have to get started on this,” she tells me. “Once the musical begins I will have little time for anything else.”

I beat it out of there and I eat my lunch in record time.

When I finish telling him all this, Billy sits back up on his bed.

“It's not a bad start, Chollie. You really scored getting her as a lab partner. But it doesn't sound like you'll be able to smooth on her when she's doing her science work.”

Billy's right.

“What's the deal with the play?” he asks.

“Oh, they have tryouts next week. Mr. Wexler, the guy who's in charge of it, was telling me about it today.”

Billy lifts his eyes.

“You gotta get in the play, big boy. The play's the thing.”

“Okay, Billy,” I say. I'm ready to try out for the play
right now. I can't wait for science class and I can't wait for the play.

Then Billy gets a text.

“Okay, I gotta answer this. Good luck.”

If I were a girl, I would give Billy a hug, I really would. Instead I say thanks.

I was in a rather rotten mood over dinner thanks to the lab partner debacle. Cassandra and Neal ignored me, busy reviewing notes and discussing their students at their second-rate college. I've been conditioned to accept their subpar parenting, so I wasn't particularly bothered. At least the chicken wasn't dry.

Alone in my room I reminisced about the three positive things that happened today.

The first was the toilet paper “decorations” in the boys' bathrooms. It was and is the perfect way to get back at Sam Dolan, the jerk. Today I decorated the bathroom next to the computer lab, then put Sam's math homework out on the windowsill. I'm sure Lichtensteiner is too dumb to think Sam's being set up. And since Sam stuffs everything in his pockets, his papers fall around him wherever he goes. It's a perfect way to get back at him for his attempted thumbtack escapade.

The second was the student council meeting. The student council, for the most part, tries to get things done, and at least there's a higher intellectual level. Maybe not on the student council
per
se
,
9
since you get on the student council
by being voted in by your homeroom. I suppose Congress is much the same way; there are a lot of fools, clowns, and morons who garner votes fairly well and can do little else. But it's once the student council breaks into committees that the real work gets done.

And most importantly, the student council president is Miranda Mullaly, and yours truly is the vice president. I can't believe I've never noticed before how stunning she is. It was an absolute thrill to sit next to Miranda today and watch her in action.

Then there's number three, the spring musical. This year we're doing
The
Pajama
Game
. It's on the stage where I come alive. Auditions are next week and I simply can't wait. I haven't been this excited since, well, I suppose since the auditions for the fall show.

I don't want to jinx it, but I'm sure I'll get the role of Sid and Miranda will get the role of Babe. It just has to happen. And then will come the hours and hours of rehearsing and working together, dancing together, running our lines together. Oh, pure joy!

But before I get carried away, this might be as good a place as any to put in a little synopsis of the show. I do this not out of disrespect for you, dear reader, but simply as one who understands and has witnessed firsthand the inadequate education in this country.

The Pajama Game

Sid Sorokin (yours truly!) comes to town to run the Sleep-Tite Pajama Factory. His job is to get the factory running up to snuff and to keep the angry workers from going on strike. The leader of the union, Babe (Miranda—of course!) riles up the workers and challenges Sid's authority. Of course, in no time, both Sid and Babe have feelings for each other, but their romance is forbidden because they're on opposite sides of the conflict. Sid has to fire Babe, and their relationship is seemingly over. But then Sid learns, after an amazing dance number with Gladys (the secretary), that the boss is hiding money that was supposed to be a part of the workers' raises. Sid (me!) saves the day, and he and Babe dance a final number and live happily ever after.

Today during luncheon I met up with Mr. Wexler, the director of the musical. My original plan was to run lines from the show in the library, but Chollie Muller was there with Miranda. I was still a bit bitter about Chollie and Miranda working together. And then I saw that roisterer
10
Sam Dolan in the library (he must've been lost), and I just couldn't take it. Fortunately, Mr. Wexler lets me stop by his room whenever I'm bored at school.

Personally, I think Mr. Wexler does an admirable job with the school musical, though some of my classmates would beg to differ. I'm not saying he's ready for the bright lights of Broadway, but I think he understands the level of talent at Penn Valley and works well with it. After all, if he casts yours truly for the lead, one can't help but agree Mr. Wexler knows what he's doing.

My only concern is Mr. Wexler's incessant obsession with having non-theatre people in the musical. I understand there is a dearth of males willing to go up on the stage, but opening up the auditions to jocks, troublemakers, and other intellectually inferior peers? Give me a break. Mr. Wexler has this idea it would broaden our appeal to the student population if we had a more diverse cast. I didn't want to argue with Mr. Wexler, especially before auditions, so I just nodded thoughtfully while Knuckles and Moose waited patiently in the wings.

Such are the sacrifices one must make in order to get ahead in the sordid world of the theatre.

We got Dad a whole bunch of old
Saturday Night Live
DVDs for Christmas. Since he mentioned it about a zillion times, it wasn't much of a surprise, but he's still really excited about it. I'm dying to watch
The
Best of John Belushi
after dinner, but I have this student council speech to write. Dad is bummed when I tell him I won't be joining him for our movie. But a man's got to do what a man's got to do. So I dump my empty plate in the sink and I go right up to my room and get to work. If I want to get closer to Miranda, this is really important, especially since the lab partner thing didn't work out.

Just thinking about the lab partner thing gets me all worked up again. I can't believe Miranda got stuck with Chollie Muller. I mean, he's an okay guy and all, but watching them work together in the library, I can't help but think that she could've been working with me. She'd have such a better time. I'd have her laughing with some of the stories from “Watch This!” In fact, I think Miranda was in the school yard when Eric Dobson shouted, “Watch this!” and tried to shinny up the flagpole only to slide down right on his butt. Instead, I'm doing a dumb report on the dumb yak with dumb Erica Dickerson.

So, like I said, this homeroom representative speech
is really important. It's my only chance to get onto the student council.

But I can't even concentrate on the speech because I can hear Sharon singing really loudly down the hall.

I politely knock on her bedroom door. When she opens the door, I ask her and Maureen to keep it down. But she snaps at me and tells me that she's practicing for the school musical auditions. The play! The play that will star Miranda Mullaly! I forgot all about the stupid play. And even though weirdo Mr. Wexler, who runs the thing, mentions it to me almost every day, I still forgot. Where's my brain?

I try to find out more about this play thing.

“When are the tryouts?” I ask.

“Tryouts?” Sharon repeats. “They're not tryouts. These are auditions.”

“When are the auditions?” I ask.

“Next Monday after school. And then there might be callbacks.”

“What are callbacks?”

“Callbacks are when you get called back,” she says.

It's like pulling teeth, talking to my sister. “And what do you do if you get called back?”

“You audition again.” Maureen joins in. They both laugh at me and are really enjoying it. I ignore their immaturity and ask the big question.

“How do you try out, I mean, audition?” I ask.

“Don't tell me you're going to
try
out
for the musical?” She laughs.

“I think I will. Mr. Wexler is always asking me to
audition
for it.”

“That's only because there are never enough boys.”

“Well, I'm going to anyway.”

“You're going to have to sing a song,” Sharon says.

“Any song?”

Sharon huffs and puffs at me the way Mr. Howe does in homeroom. I think she realizes it's rude to huff and puff and sigh like that, so she hands me a sheet of paper to make up for it.

“This is the song you have to sing.”

I leave the room with the lyrics as my sisters continue to laugh.

Tonight I learn that girls, when they laugh, like to laugh together.

I can't figure out how I'm supposed to sing the song, and I give up on the speech. I join Dad and we watch the rest of the DVD. And even though it's super hilarious, I'm not in the mood. At least Dad is happy.

5

Miranda Mullaly

January 11, 2016

English 8A

Mr. Minkin

Suggested Writing Prompt:
If
you could relive any day or moment in the last
year, what would it be? What exactly would you change
? How could that change affect you in the present?

This is a difficult question because, of course, my mind is mostly on the future. High school, auditions for the spring musical, et cetera.

Still, the answer is simple. If I could relive any day from the last year, it would be the first day of this present semester. That morning, my mind
was fully occupied with happy thoughts of my boyfriend, Tom Nelson. Oh, how I miss him. We had such a wonderful winter break together. We spent the days ice skating at the rink, sipping hot chocolate, and walking through the woods with the snow falling through the bare branches. It was magical. So I was probably smiling to myself, looking a bit like a fool immersed in my fond memories of Tom, when I thoughtlessly held out my hand and kept Duke from sitting on a tack placed on his chair by Sam Dolan.

Thinking back on it, I really don't know why I saved Duke anyway. I suppose it was simply because I'm tired of the childish antics of so many of my classmates. Tom would never do such a petty thing. Am I the only one who realizes that we'll be in high school in eight short months? Does anyone in my class even understand that you don't put thumbtacks on each other's seats in high school?

The way Duke smiled at me woke me from my daydreams of Tom and brought me back to Penn Valley. Duke absolutely beamed when I saved him. He can be so weird sometimes.

Because I couldn't bear to look at him for
another second, I turned around and gave Sam Dolan the childish thumbtack. But looking at Sam Dolan was no better. I can't look at Sam without remembering the tooth he brought to school for show-and-tell when we were in kindergarten. I think it was his father's molar. I know that sounds shallow, but he's just so gross. I dropped the thumbtack in his hand, trying not to touch him.

So now it has been a week since I stopped Duke from sitting on that lousy tack, and it's almost like I saved his life instead of simply saving him from embarrassment.

If I hadn't warned Duke about the thumbtack, I would be able to audition for the musical without him staring at me. And although I feel very confident that I'll get the lead this year, I really don't want the extra pressure.

If I hadn't warned Duke about the thumbtack, I would have been able to sit at student council without Duke blabbing on about the book his parents are writing about a pregnant teenager. Really? Have they ever heard of MTV?

(Is it too late to wish to go back in time twice? I'd do anything not to have Chollie Muller as a lab partner. Seriously, what kind of name is Chollie?
Who would voluntarily choose that over their given name of Charles?)

Now I'm starting to get depressed about not being able to go back in time. Oh well, time for happy thoughts, like when I see Tom again. Yay!

Sam Dolan

January 11th (right?)

English 8A

Mr. Minkin

Suggested Writing Prompt:
If you could
relive any day or moment in the last year, what
would it be? What exactly would you change? How could
that change affect you in the present?

Hey Mr. Minkin,

That's not a bad question at all. In fact, I like this question very much. It's almost like time travel, which seems like a pretty cool thing. I love time travel movies, and my dad and I have seen
Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure
about a million times. We love that movie. Those two dudes crack us up. We love the part when the teacher says, “Who was Joan of Arc?” and Bill and Ted are like, “Noah's wife!”

But of course I can't go back
that
far. Maybe I would go back to the end of last year. If I could do that, I'd keep Foxxy from falling in love with Holly Culver. With Holly in the picture I've got no one to hang out with and things are getting kind
of boring. Between him spending all his time with Holly, and Lichtensteiner splitting up our classes, it's almost like Foxxy has moved to another town and goes to another school.

Or better yet, I would go back to this morning. Then I wouldn't have allowed Erica Dickerson to go first for the student council speech. I also wouldn't have helped her out by holding up her visuals. But how was I supposed to know her posters would say, “Reasons Why We Should Not Vote for Sam Dolan”? Everybody thought it was real funny as Erica recapped the time our fourth grade class trip to the zoo was cut short because Foxxy and I had a little trouble with the monkeys. And then she retold the story from the fifth grade when I got stuck in a heating duct and the fire department had to be called. She had everyone in stitches recalling the time I accidently microwaved aluminum while on lunch duty when we were in the sixth grade.

With everyone laughing and having such a good time with Erica's speech there wasn't time for mine. But I told Mr. Howe that I changed my mind about being on the stupid student council anyway.

I don't want to represent a homeroom that thinks Erica Dickerson is funny.

But I'm not going to let it get me down, because this afternoon I'm going to get a part in the play.

Chollie Muller

January 11, 2015

English 8A

Mr. Minkin

Suggested Writing Prompt:
If you could relive
any day or moment in the last year, what would
it be? What exactly would you change? How could that
change affect you in the present?

Dear Mr. Minkin,

Part of me wants to go back to Christmas Day when I first heard Miranda Mullaly singing in church. If I could go back to that day, I would definitely stick around and look for Miranda so I could talk with her. It's pretty hard to talk to her in class because she's very serious about everything in school. But church is a different thing. And if I knew I was going to go back in time, I'd also have a whole thing written out beforehand so I'd know what to talk about.

My brother Billy says it's very important to ask girls questions to get them talking. Then you pretend to listen to what they say. So I would ask:

• What are your favorite church songs to sing?
  
• What are your favorite nonchurch songs?
  
• What did you get for Christmas?
  
• How is your vacation going?
  
• What are your favorite subjects in school?
  
• What's your favorite football team?
  
• What's your favorite food?
  
• Who is your favorite singer?
  
• What's your favorite movie?
  

Now that I think about it, maybe I should use these questions the next time we're in the library working on our science project or before the student council meeting begins.

Or maybe, if I could really go back in time, I would go back to the football game against Cedarbrook. I can still picture running into the end zone for the winning touchdown. If I could go back in time, then I would know that there was a defender coming at me from my left who was going to strip the ball from me, causing me to fumble at the goal line and lose the game.

God, it's killing me just thinking about that loss.

Thanks a lot for reminding me about it.

Duke Vanderbilt Samagura

11 January 2016

English 8A

Mr. Minkin

Suggested Writing Prompt:
If you could
relive any day or moment in the last year, what
would it be? What exactly would you change? How could
that change affect you in the present?

Sir:

If I could go back in time, I would return to the first day of school. I would have taken one look at my schedule and walked into the office and demanded to have my English class changed. How is doing a writing prompt almost every day going to help us in English? Do you even read these? Do you notice that half the class does nothing when we have “Freewriting”? Are we getting credit for doodling? Can we meditate? Did you ever stop to consider that fifteen minutes of “Freewriting” is a waste of valuable teaching time? It's Monday morning and this is the best you can come up with for a lesson?

Of course, if I really could go back in time, I
would go back one week, back to the first day of the semester, to science class, then maybe things would be very different. When Miranda Mullaly looked into my eyes after pulling the thumbtack from my chair, I would have taken her by the hand and led her from the room. I would have taken her away from this school filled with ignoramuses and dolts. We would've gone for a walk in the park, where we could simply be together, away from our indolent classmates.