Trash Can Days

by Teddy Steinkellner

  Most of the guys stand awkwardly in the corner. Sometimes they’ll form a small circle and each of the boys will take turns attempting to do the worm or some other lame break-dance move, but that usually dies out within a few minutes, so then they have nothing to do but return to their natural habitat, the wall, where they stand for the rest of the night with their hands in their pockets like the bored dorks they are. I’ve heard that in high school, guys will get up the courage to dance a little, but at SP all the boys follow the same, lame, no-dancing routine. All of them: cool guys, creepy guys, geeky guys, Arlington kids, Mexicans—you name it.

  All the guys, that is, except for Chad Beck. About twenty minutes after we got there, when the DJ played the first slowish song, Chad came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned around and he had this look on his face that was just like, “Why not?” And so we slow danced, and it was incredible. It wasn’t the lame kind of slow dancing where there’s five feet between the guy and the girl and they’re barely touching. It was like…bride-groom slow dancing. And he wasn’t singing along with the lyrics of the song. He was reciting different words, the words to a song he just wrote for me. “Song for Hannah.” It was a little confusing, trying to hear all of his words over a completely different song, but it was such a tender moment. My heart was beating so hard.

  Plus, Chad stayed for the fast songs after, and well…we may or may not have done a little freaking, too. No comment. ;)

  The whole night reminded me of my mom’s all-time favorite movie, which is West Side Story. She’s made me watch it with her like, dozens of times. There’s this one scene in it where Tony and Maria are at the big dance and they lock eyes and everything else goes fuzzy, and they start dancing together and nothing else in the world matters at all. That’s what it felt like to be with Chad. I barely even remember what happened for most of the dance, because he was my Tony and I was his Maria and we only had eyes for each other. The Viking and the fairy.

  We danced until ten and then my mom came to pick us up. When we dropped Chad off at his house, Mom let me walk him to his door, and she had the good sense to turn away for the next twenty seconds or so. Now I’m not gonna you know what and tell, but let me just say that we ended the night in the perfect way.

  And I pity any girl who isn’t me today.

  Song for Hannah

  Chad Beck

  staring into the world inside your sapphire eyes

  and running my hands

  through your beautiful brown brown hair

  smiling to myself i realize

  that i need you

  and you are there

  ’cause you make me happy, make me hot, make me sing

  you make me smile, make me laugh, make me think

  you’re the girl who makes everything

  make sense

  to me

  you’re not like the others in this goddamned place

  you’re the only chick who’s really worth the chase

  when i look for love among this whole human race

  it’s you

  i see

  writing a song that i’ll play for you when the time is right

  and texting you

  and looking at a picture of you

  i long for the day when we can play my song and sing all night

  but until then

  i’ll just sit and write

  ’cause you make me wonder, make me hope, make me dream

  you make me much more sensitive than I seem

  you make me jump up

  make me scream

  “i love this girl”

  i need you so bad ’cause you make me so good

  you make me listen like a real man should

  and so girl i’m wondering i’m wondering could

  you be mine

  for good?

  so i give you these lyrics

  ’cause i need you to hear this

  girl, the only thing that’s clear is

  when i’m with you, i’m…

  fearless

  9 • Dorothy Wu

  Sunday, November 1

  Five things I like

  Funnies

  Silly dreams

  Secret wishes

  Cats (especially when they make mistakes. hehe.)

  Mr. Morales’s writing club!

  Five things I wish I was better at

  Math

  Singing

  Talking in front of people

  Talking to people for a long time

  Writing stories (I am already very good, but I can always improve, even if just a bit.)

  Five things I do not like

  Math

  The boys in math

  P.E.

  Clothes (It is not that I want to be naked, it is just that I don’t care who wears what! Why does everyone make such a big deal?)

  Darrell Wu, Pest Extraordinaire

  Five mysteries I would like to know the answer to

  Aliens: fact or fiction?

  How do geniuses like Mozart and Shigeru Miyamoto get their ideas?

  How many licks DOES it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? That darn owl always bites the lolly prematurely!

  Where in the world IS Carmen Sandiego? (My guess: Dubai?)

  Fate or free will? (See? I’m serious sometimes!)

  Five objects that are special to me

  My parasol that I got when I was a baby that has various cats on it

  My stuffed characters (Some of them are animals. Some are people. So I say “characters.”)

  My yearbook from sixth grade that has all the things people wrote to me

  The picture of my parents from their wedding back when they lived in China

  My Pokémon/Magic/Yu-gi-oh!/baby animal cards, obviously (and my manga collection, double obviously [or “doubviously”])

  Five places I would like to visit (any time period)

  Middle Earth

  Westeros

  “The Planet” (Final Fantasy VII)

  Agrabah

  Texas (I am just curious to see what it is like!)

  Five things I want

  The next Nintendo system years before it even comes out

  The ability to talk to animals (particularly cats)

  A theme song

  For the Lunch Club to be real

  A special someone…

  This is the assignment we were given at the first meeting of the new club, “Write On!” Mr. Morales said that it is supposed to help people get ideas for stories. Of course, I already have numerous story ideas. In fact, I have a whole notebook’s worth. Still, others may not be so experienced, so they might need something like this. Also, for what it is worth, I did consider this exercise to be a good “get to know me.” Some of these facts about me I did not even realize myself until I wrote them down. Who knew I was so obsessed with cats—or special someones—or Texas?! Ah, how I surprise myself.

  Write On! has had one meeting so far. It was last Tuesday and it was a smashing success. There were six people in attendance: Mr. Morales, Dorothy Wu (that would be meee!), Whitney Dealy, Jake Schwartz, Daniel Uribe, and Tyler Bell, known to some as “Creepy Tyler.” I hope no one ever refers to me as “Creepy Dorothy.” I would much rather be called “Strange Dorothy” or “Wild Alice.” Why Alice? I just like the name, that is all.

  Mr. Morales seemed disheartened at the amount of people, but I liked it. Six is the perfect number for a group. There are six Power Rangers. There are six friends on that show about the friends. Plus, the Latin word for six is sex. Hehe!

  I would know more funny Latin words if my father let me take that class. Hehe.

  Altogether though, a very nice bunch. We have a wise leader, a plucky girl heroine, a ravishing beauty/world-class equestrian, a shy-but-able boy hero, a cunning rebel, and a creepy outsider. Basically all the elements you need for a group. I should definitely start writing Write On! stories instead of Lunch Club stories—ohhh—and what if I shared them wi
th the group? I think that that would be quite metal. Or meta. Which one is it? I should learn the proper word for that situation.

  I think the reason that I am so focused on writing club these days is because it is by far the aspect of my life that I am most satisfied with. I just received my first progress report, and unlike Write On!, my grades give me bittersweet feelings. I may be rocking the house in some of my classes like English and social studies, but I am C-plussing the house in others such as P.E. and math. I shudder to think about what will happen if my father ever sees my math grade. My mother said that if I can raise it to an A by the end of the semester, then he never has to know. But we will see if that happens. I doubt I have it in me to raise my grade in the class. Part of me does not even want to try.

  The other aspect of school that is occasionally a struggle is the friends part. I am not saying that I am lacking in friends, because I am not. I am not a loser. I have all my pals in my clubs, and in all my classes, and even the fellows who give me a hard time in math, I consider them friends. I have several friends.

  It is just that…well, I suppose I was mostly feeling rotten about all this at the ’Ween Dance last night. I had spent weeks constructing the perfect dragon-maiden outfit, and I could not wait to show it off to all my club buddies. So at seven last night I arrived at the dance…and none of my pals were there. I had no chums to boogie with! The gym was mostly filled with eighth graders who had gone to Arlington Academy (the Populars is what I imagine they call themselves). Also I saw some of the tough guys and their gals from the eastern part of town, close to the Wu residence (I believe they are known as the Radars. Cool name). I stayed for a brief while, got some refreshments, and attempted to popularize my “dragon-maiden shuffle,” but it was just not the right atmosphere for me.

  So I left the dance. My father had already arranged to pick me up at ten, and I could not call him to retrieve me earlier because he has not permitted me to own a cell phone. Zounds!

  I spent two and a half hours walking around the campus. I actually quite liked it. Seeing all the hallways dark and deserted is very interesting. A little boring, but very interesting. In addition, I found a couple of making-outers behind the portable buildings, and I got to scare them away. I pretended to be a mangy, rabid dog. How? I used my sounds. That was cool coolness as well. I had a good time.

  It would have been nice to have had a companion during the slow songs, I suppose. But, ah well. That is what dreaming is for, is it not?

  10 • Danny Uribe

  Saturday, November 7

  Sometimes it’s pretty cool living with the Schwartzes.

  Today was my birthday, but I wasn’t planning on doing anything special for it. I thought I’d play video games with Jake. Probably I’d go and hang out across town, play some soccer with the guys maybe. But I had no idea what today was gonna end up being like. Didn’t know how badass it would be.

  It started at like, six in the morning. I was having a nice dream, probably about hot girls at a car wash or something, and all of a sudden I hear Jake screaming in my ear.

  “DANNY! DANNY! WAKE UP! YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP! NOW! NOW! NOWWWWW!”

  At first I was all kinds of pissed because I was like, “It’s my birthday, not Christmas. Don’t wake me up so early.” I wanted to hit Jake in the face or something. I know it sounds bad now, but you can’t get between me and my sleep. So I was about to tell him to get out of my room but then he said—

  “WE’RE VISITING THE SET OF MY DAD’S PROJECT!”

  Like that, I woke up and I gave Jake the biggest hug. Normally, I don’t hug people like that, but I wanted to show Jake how happy I was.

  It’s been a long time, like a couple years since we all went down and visited the set of one of Mr. Schwartz’s movies. It’s always the funnest thing. Where else would I get to kick it with famous actors? Or see a bunch of fine supermodels up close? Jake’s favorite part is when they have trained cats.

  Mr. Schwartz usually isn’t home much, and when he is, he’s never really with the family. But when we see him on the set, he’s the nicest guy in the world. Just showing us around to everyone, letting us play with the props and stuff. It’s the only place I see him take his sunglasses off even though it’s usually pretty sunny and bright. And he’s got this big, deep laugh that you never hear at home. Once it starts it never ends. It always makes him seem so happy.

  And he’s got every reason to be. He’s with his family, showing them around, makin’ that big money, hangin’ with the stars. One day I think it would be cool to be a big producer like him. I don’t know if there’s any Mexican movie producers, but I guess I could be the first.

  So yeah, when Jake said that’s what we were doing, I jumped out of bed and I was just like, screw the shower, screw breakfast, let’s go to Hollywooooood.

  The ride down was pretty good. At first it was annoying because Jake kept talking and talking and talking:

  “This present was all my idea!”

  “Weren’t you so surprised?”

  “Dude, where would you rank this on your all-time presents list?”

  “Number one? Maybe number two behind the scrapbook I made you last year?”

  “Oh man, the look on your face when I woke you up…so hilarious!”

  I don’t know what Jake wanted from me. Did he want me to like, thank him a million times? Did he want me to cry and say, I love you man, best friends for life? What did he want?

  By the time we hit Ventura, I started to zone him out. The conversation in the front of the car was way more interesting anyway. Or, well, I guess it wasn’t a conversation but more like Mrs. Schwartz nodding and listening while Hannah said all this crazy stuff about her friends. Basically over the last week, it seems like Hannah’s turned on her whole Seabrook-Arlington crew. Some of the smack she was talking about people was unbelievable. So interesting to hear. But I’ll get to more of it later.

  Because once we got to the set…I mean like, who cares about stupid school stuff. Middle school is a joke. Hollywood, man, that’s what’s real.

  This movie, like all of Mr. Schwartz’s “projects,” is pretty much like this big action blockbuster. It’s all about the world ending like how it does in the Bible, and at the end there’s going to be this giant special effects fight between Jesus and Satan. It’s gonna be so bomb. Also there’s this love story on the side with Will Smith and some blond lady with big boobs. They were really good in the scene we saw today. I think they’re both probably gonna get Oscars.

  And seeing the stars isn’t even the best part of being on the set. Free food represent! I ate like, ten brownies and all kinds of cheese and a buttload of sandwiches and tons of donuts, too. There was so much food everywhere. I was looking for Jake at this one part because they brought out a huge thing of pizza bagels, and that’s his favorite food. But I couldn’t find him anywhere.

  I didn’t know where Jake was for most of today. It felt like he was keeping away from me. I wonder if he thought I was mad at him. I guess I could have been nicer in the car. I wasn’t really pissed at him, even. I just didn’t want him to keep acting so hyper around me, like some little kid who just ate a bunch of sugar. It’s embarrassing for me when he acts that way, especially when there’s others around. He doesn’t have to be like that.

  Actually, for a big part of the day I hung out with Hannah. The two of us go way back, of course. I’ve lived on her property since I was seven. But this was the first time I ever really chilled with her instead of Jake. And it was mad weird because up until maybe a week ago, she would have annoyed the crap out of me no matter what she said—all that gossip about best-dressed couples and crap. But today I found all the stuff she had to say real interesting. The way she talked about her friends was different from how she used to in the drives to school. She was straight-up trashing people, and not the losers or the cholos or Creepy Tyler, but she was saying bad stuff about all her closest friends. It made her seem a lot more honest. A lot funner to be around. It wa
s tight. I felt bad for her, though. She was pretty upset. What did this Chad guy even do to her?

  Since Hannah was kind of sharing her secrets with me, I felt good. And it made me feel okay talking about some things that I haven’t talked about with anybody, not even Jake. Especially not Jake.

  I told Hannah about gangster stuff.

  It’s crazy. As much rumor-spreading as that girl has done over her life, you’d think that she would know the stories of everyone at SP, brown kids included. But really, Hannah doesn’t know anything about people outside her special group of Seabrook friends. Like, she kind of knows that gangs exist, and she knows a couple of signs because I always see the pictures of her and her friends doing them on Facebook. But like, it was crazy. She didn’t even know who the main two gangs in San Paulo were. And I mean everybody knows the Raiders and the Destroyers. Sometimes it seems like all anybody wants is to be a Raider or a Destroyer. I know fools who would give anything for one of those gangs, even their lives probably. That sounds dumb when I say it, but maybe you have to be more like me to understand it. I’m not saying I would ever want to join a gang. But I get why people would want to be part of a brotherhood, part of a family.

  Maybe that’s the real problem, though. All that people like Hannah and Jake and their parents and their friends know about us Latinos is the fact that we have gangs. That’s a bad thing. They think we just beat up on each other for no reason and they think that’s messed up. They see we don’t have money like them. Then they see that some of us work for them, like my parents with the Schwartzes. So they don’t respect us. They all think of us as nothing more than Mexican gangsters.

  So for me to spend a day telling Hannah the stuff my cousins told me, stuff about how the Raiders formed, when’s the last time they warred with the Destroyers, which of my friends are thinking about jumping in—that’s just making her think that all I care about is the Eastside, the thug life. And that’s not me. That’s not the whole me.