Danny Constantino's First (and Maybe Last?) Date

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Danny Constantino's First (and Maybe Last?) Date Page 12

by Paul Acampora


  That perks me up. “I’ll drive!”

  She laughs. “I don’t think so.”

  “Maybe you should stay home tomorrow,” I suggest.

  Gram shakes her head. “Tomorrow is pep rally day. Mr. Maggio will need all the help he can get.”

  “He could survive one day without you.”

  “Not pep rally day.” Gram steers us through town and finally comes to a stop at my house. Before I step out of the car, she puts a hand on my arm. “Don’t forget that I have to be at school very early tomorrow morning.”

  “Then I’ll take the bus?”

  Gram nods. “Sounds like a plan, Danny.”

  It does sound like a plan. But during the last couple weeks, most of my plans seemed to crumple around me. Still, you’ve got to shoot for something.

  “I’ll see you at school,” I promise.

  I hop out. Gram shifts into gear, leans over the steering wheel, and pounds on the gas pedal. The Camaro leaps forward like a fighter jet catapulting off an aircraft carrier. Just because Gram’s tired doesn’t mean she’s slow.

  Inside, I find Mom at the kitchen table. She’s shoving a stack of papers into a briefcase. “Hello and goodbye,” she says to me. “I’m heading to a meeting. Do you mind eating on your own tonight?”

  “Campaign meeting?” I ask.

  Mom swings an arm through the briefcase shoulder strap. “That’s right.”

  I take a deep breath. “So . . . how are you feeling about the race?”

  She nods. “It’s looking good.”

  “How good?”

  Mom shrugs. “Election Day will be here soon. I guess we have to wait and see.”

  “Really?” I say. “Do we really have to wait and see? Because it seems to me that you can’t lose. You’re the only one in the race.”

  “That’s true,” Mom says, “but—”

  “It seems to me that you’ve spent all this time on a campaign that doesn’t even matter. And when you’re not doing that, you’re running around taking care of other people’s houses, or organizing other people’s business, or planning other people’s parades.”

  Mom lowers the briefcase onto a chair. “Danny—”

  “And don’t say you’re doing it all for me. I’m not the one who wants you to be mayor. I’m the one who wants you to be my mother because right now, you don’t do any more around here than Dad does. And he’s dead.”

  Mom stares at me for a long moment. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

  “That’s not a surprise,” I tell her.

  “Danny,” she says. “I’m sorry, but people are waiting for me. I really have to go.”

  I shrug. “Of course you do.”

  My mother crosses the room and gives me a quick kiss on the forehead. “We will talk about this later.”

  I’m left standing alone in the kitchen. I turn to head for my room, but a knock at the front door stops me in my tracks. I march across the living room expecting to find more goofy Natalie Flores Griffin fans on the front step. Instead, I find Natalie Flores Griffin.

  “Hi,” Natalie says to me.

  “Hi,” I reply.

  So our conversation is off to a great start.

  “Are you mad at me?” Natalie blurts out.

  “I would have liked to go to the dance,” I tell her.

  “You can still go,” says Natalie.

  “Everybody expects me to be there with you.”

  “Well, I’m very sorry to disappoint everybody, Danny.”

  It is impossible to ignore the edge in her voice.

  “Zoey and Ajay want to know if you’ll be at the pep rally,” I say now.

  “Just Zoey and Ajay?”

  “And Mira Sergiyenko. She wants to give you a bunch of money.”

  Natalie does not reply.

  “I’ll send you Ajay’s number so you can call and let him know what you’re doing.”

  “Fine,” says Natalie. “Do that.” She turns, rolls her bike to the sidewalk, swings a leg over the seat, and rides away.

  It’s possible that I could have handled the conversation just a little better.

  I close the door and head for my room, where I drop onto my bed and stare at nothing. Finally, I focus on an old poster of my favorite superhero, Winnie-the-Pooh, walking hand in hand with Christopher Robin. Mom hung that poster on my wall after we learned Dad was gone. In the picture, Christopher Robin tells Pooh, “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart . . . I’ll always be with you.”

  It’s a good poster. It’s good advice from Christopher Robin too. It even helps me a little on days when I feel like Dad is especially far away. But honestly, the words seem kind of dumb when the person you’re missing was standing in your yard just a minute ago. Or, even worse, when they live in the very same house as you.

  Chapter 18

  have a nice day

  In the morning, I remember that Ajay and Zoey planned on riding to school in her dad’s truck with the unicorn today. This is also the day that every kid at Cuper Cove Middle can come to school in costume. But maybe I don’t want to be like every kid anymore. I dress in blue jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt that says HAVE A NICE DAY. How’s that for a future marine?

  I make it to the bus stop just in time to climb aboard. Mr. Beamon sits behind the wheel in a jacket, pants, gloves, and boots that all appear to be made out of tinfoil. He’s also got a pair of weird white wraparound sunglasses, and it looks like he’s painted his hair and beard white too. “Spunky space pilot from the future?” I ask.

  Mr. Beamon nods. “And what are you supposed to be?”

  “I’m still working that out.”

  He offers what I guess is a space captain salute. “Carry on.”

  Witches, zombies, and superheroes fill almost every seat on the bus. I make my way down the aisle and finally find a spot next to a very large boy in a huge yellow rubber ducky mask. “Hey,” the duck says once the bus is under way, “aren’t you the seventh-grade kid going to the dance with Natalie Flores Griffin?”

  “That’s what people say,” I tell him.

  “Do you think she’d dance with an eighth-grade duck?”

  I consider telling him that Natalie’s teeth aren’t real. Instead, I just shrug. “It couldn’t hurt to ask.”

  At school, I find Ajay and Zoey already at my locker. They’ve got winged Valkyrie crowns and cardboard Spartan helmets over their heads. Nearby, Darius, Billy, and Maddie wear similar headgear. They’ve got cardboard armor and weapons too. “We are hoplites!” Billy announces.

  “Hoplites were Ancient Greek soldiers,” Darius explains.

  “Highly trained Ancient Greek killing machines is more like it,” says Madeline.

  “Just soldiers will be fine,” Ajay tells her.

  “Any sign of Natalie?” I ask.

  “I talked to her,” says Ajay. “She’s not coming. The pep rally is a mob scene even when we don’t have movie stars. She’s worried that somebody could get hurt.”

  I nod. “I understand.”

  By which I mean I don’t understand.

  In other words, I really wish Natalie were here.

  Zoey pushes a Spartan helmet, armor, and a cardboard sword into my arms. “Put this on and follow us.”

  I strap a breastplate across my chest, shove the helmet onto my head, and slide the sword into my belt. Now I’m a hoplite too, so I fall in line with Ajay, Zoey, and Billy. Darius and Maddie take the lead with their own swords and shields. With cardboard masks covering our faces, we go unrecognized through the hallway.

  “I wish we had spears,” says Maddie as we maneuver through a crowd of sixth graders.

  “You could hurt somebody with a spear,” says Billy.
r />   “I know.” Despite her cardboard mask, I can still tell that Maddie is smiling.

  Moving by the office, I see my grandmother. She is wearing a giant inflatable shark costume. “I don’t care if you look just like the character in the movie,” she’s telling a girl with painfully short shorts, a tiny bloodstained crop top, and a baseball bat. “You can’t wear that to school.”

  We keep going. Together, we round a corner, head down a hallway, and enter the gymnasium, where I’m surprised to find my mother talking with Mr. Maggio. Mom’s wearing a gigantic periwinkle gown with pink lace angel wings tacked to the back. Plus a tiara. She’s either somebody’s fairy godmother or a middle-aged prom queen. Mr. Maggio is in bright blue Superman tights that might have fit him twenty years ago. I’ll never look at the Man of Steel the same way again.

  “Keep going,” Maddie mutters. “Double time.”

  We pick up the pace, but not before the principal notices us. He gives a wave and shouts out a greeting. Beneath my helmet and mask, I hear something that sounds like “Enn eetha otee oothen eetha!”

  “What did he say?” asks Billy.

  “I’m sure that I don’t know,” says Darius.

  “It’s all Greek to me,” says Ajay.

  Maddie stops, removes her mask, and speaks to Mr. Maggio with military precision. “Requesting permission to meet Zoey’s father in the parking lot behind the gym, sir.”

  Mr. Maggio replies in an equally official tone. “For what purpose, soldier?”

  “To unload the remainder of our pep rally supplies.”

  Mr. Maggio places both hands on his hips and strikes a Superman pose in his blue tights. It almost looks like he’s going to try and leap a tall building in a single bound. For all of our sakes, I hope he doesn’t. “Did you let your homeroom teachers know where you were going?” he asks.

  “We did,” Maddie tells him.

  I have no idea whether or not this is true.

  “In that case,” says Mr. Maggio, “permission is granted. And since our first bell is about to ring and the pep rally is our first activity of the day, you and your troops may remain in the gym. Rather than run around the building, please wait here for your classmates, who will join you shortly.”

  Maddie raises her sword in salute. “Yes, sir!”

  She turns and leads us past my mother and Mr. Maggio. I’m glad I’ve still got my mask on. “Are those kids wearing cardboard?” I hear Mom ask.

  “It’s a very versatile material,” Mr. Maggio tells her.

  We follow Maddie and Darius toward the open set of double doors that lead to the parking lot behind our school building. In the lot, we find Zoey’s dad, a short, broad-shouldered man, standing beside a giant headless unicorn and a big box truck. The truck’s got a picture of a stovetop painted on the side. Beneath the stovetop, it says JIMMY ROY APPLIANCE WORLD . . . WHERE EVERY DAY IS FRY DAY!

  Darius comes to a stop. He lifts his cardboard mask and stares at the unicorn body. “Is it me or is there something wrong with that unicorn?”

  Mr. Roy opens a door on the truck, reaches inside, and comes out with Cooper’s cardboard head. He holds it toward Darius. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  Zoey steps up and takes the head. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Do you need any help?” Mr. Roy asks.

  Zoey shakes her head. “We’ll attach the head inside.”

  In fact, we don’t have any choice. Even without a head, getting Cooper into the building is going to be a tight squeeze.

  “Sounds good.” Mr. Roy leans forward, gives Zoey a high five, then hops into his truck and drives away.

  “Is every day really fry day?” says Darius.

  “Only if coronary disease and congestive heart failure are on your things-to-do list,” says Ajay.

  “Isn’t your father a heart doctor?” Billy asks him.

  Ajay nods. “My dad says coronary disease and congestive heart failure are going to put my sister and me through college.”

  Billy, Maddie, Ajay, and I grab the ropes attached to our unicorn’s rolling cart. Almost fully assembled, Cooper is heavier than I expected, but together, we pull and lift and drag her from the parking lot, onto the sidewalk, through the doorway, and into the gym. We have to stand on a chair to slide her head with its golden toilet plunger horn into place.

  “Nice neck,” I say to Darius.

  “It was just math,” he says, but I can tell that he’s proud of his work.

  Ajay and Zoey fasten everything together with duct tape. “It’s done,” Ajay says. “It’s really done.”

  The day’s opening bell must have rung when we were outside, because costumed kids are starting to file into the gym. A few of them have decorated wagons and wheelbarrows and small carts for this weekend’s Halloween parade. Nobody’s got anything like Cooper the Trojan Unicorn.

  “Everything is in place,” says Zoey.

  “Not everything,” I say. “Natalie’s not here.”

  Ajay puts one more piece of duct tape over a loose piece of cardboard. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

  “It’s fine,” I say. “It’s not like she wanted to be here.”

  “She definitely wants to be here,” Zoey tells me.

  “Then where is she?” I ask.

  “She’ll be with us soon enough,” says Ajay.

  Zoey shoots him a look.

  “For the parade,” he clarifies.

  “But not for the dance,” I say.

  “Danny,” says Ajay, “could you just forget about Natalie Flores Griffin for a minute, and enjoy the pep rally?”

  “You want me to forget about Natalie Flores Griffin?” I ask.

  Ajay nods, which makes his cardboard helmet bob back and forth like a carnival doll.

  “You realize that Natalie Flores Griffin is all I’ve been thinking about ever since Asha started this whole thing.”

  “What does Asha have to do with anything?” says Maddie.

  “I didn’t invite Natalie to Cuper Cove,” I explain. “Asha stole my phone and pretended to be me. Asha’s the one that asked Natalie to come. Asha’s the one that sent the invitation. I never wanted to go to the Halloween dance in the first place.”

  “That’s a lie,” says Ajay. He raises his voice. “Danny Constantino is lying!”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” I say. “I hoped it would be fun, but it’s mostly been crazy and even kind of stupid. I thought Natalie and I could be friends again, but I’m worried about learning how to dance, and she’s figuring out how to solve world hunger.”

  “Danny,” says Zoey, “Natalie doesn’t care if you can’t dance.”

  I shake my head. “All I’m saying is that I knew this was a bad idea from the start. Now I have a stomachache all the time. I definitely don’t think Natalie’s having fun.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have asked her in the first place,” says Maddie.

  “Are you listening to me?” I shout. “I didn’t ask her in the first place!”

  Meanwhile, dozens of sixth, seventh, and eighth graders pour into the gym. As kids spot our giant unicorn, they erupt into screams and cheers. With the way everything echoes inside the gymnasium, I can barely hear myself think.

  “Danny,” says Ajay. “You’ve always wanted to go out with Natalie.”

  “Not like this!” I holler.

  On the other side of the gym, my giant shark grandmother is working with a couple teachers to corral a rowdy group of boys who are all dressed as monsters. Mr. Maggio and Mom stand in the center of the mob and scan the room nervously as if they’re waiting for someone to show up. I know who they’re waiting for.

  “I wanted to go out on a date with a girl I liked,” I tell my friends. “But I’m not even her date. I’m ‘Hashtag What-was-she-thinking.’”

  “Danny,” says Zoey.
“It’s not like that.”

  I shake my head. “That is exactly what it’s like.”

  Ajay takes a step toward me. “You’re wrong,” he says, “and you really need to shut up.”

  I raise my cardboard sword and turn on Ajay. “Don’t tell me to shut up.”

  That’s when my mother’s amplified voice fills the room. “Boys and girls,” she says sweetly. “Let’s settle down and find a seat. This is a big day, and we are expecting a very special guest.” Apparently she travels with her own microphone now.

  “You don’t get it,” I shout at my friends.

  Suddenly, the backside of our cardboard unicorn bursts open. The long rope tail attached to the secret hatchway whacks the side of my head. It knocks the helmet and mask off my face just in time for me to see Natalie step out of her hiding place inside Cooper the Trojan Unicorn.

  “And here she is!” says Mom, who is almost as shocked as I am.

  “I tried to tell you,” says Ajay. “Natalie called last night. I convinced her to come to the pep rally.”

  “We wanted it to be a surprise,” says Zoey.

  “I am surprised,” I admit.

  Natalie hops off the unicorn platform and onto the gym floor. She approaches me, leans close, and whispers into my ear, “Tell Asha I’m very sorry that I can’t be the date she was hoping for.”

  I don’t know how to respond. For better or worse, it doesn’t matter. Because right then is when the screaming begins.

  Chapter 19

  cooper the trojan unicorn is dead

  “Stay calm!” Mom yells into her microphone. “Everybody, just stay calm.”

  I turn to see what’s going on. Kids who had been seated on the floor near the gymnasium’s exit doors are trying to back away from something on the ground. Others push forward for a better look. “What’s happening?” I say.

  “Danny,” Natalie says. “It’s your grandmother.”

  I look around the room. Gram is nowhere to be seen, which is confusing because she’s usually the first one to wade into any kind of commotion. Also, she’s wearing a giant inflatable shark costume.

 

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