Sophomores and Other Oxymorons

by David Lubar

  “You mind a few more passengers?” I asked.

  “The more, the merrier,” he said.

  I called Lee, Jeremy, Kyle, Julia, Kelly, Edith, and Richard over.

  As everyone settled onto the long seat in the middle of the limo, I motioned for Jeremy to join me way in the back.

  “I have the perfect nickname for you,” I told him. It had come to me just moments ago, inspired by my conversation with Mrs. Gilroy.

  “Great. All I need is for you to stick something belittling on me,” he said. “A nickname from you is like an uppercut from the world heavyweight champ.”

  “No. I’m serious. It’s awesome.”

  “Okay. Let me have it.” He squeezed his eyes shut and hunched down, as if my words would have enough mass and velocity to cause damage.

  “Deuce,” I said.

  “Deuce?” He opened one eye and frowned. “Like in the tennis score?”

  “No. That’s not what I had in mind.”

  “Playing card?” he asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Bathroom reference?”

  “Ewwww. Absolutely not.” That one hadn’t even crossed my mind.

  “Then I don’t get it,” he said. “And that’s a rare situation for me.”

  “You saved the paper. You brought down Mr. Sherman. You came out of nowhere, like in the old Greek plays.”

  “Deus ex machina!” Jeremy shouted. Both eyes were open now. “How cool. Yeah. You can call me Deuce. I like that. Deuce Danger. You’re tweaking the pronunciation a bit, but that makes it like our own secret code.”

  “That was my plan, Deuce.”

  “Scott and Deuce, dynamic freshman and sophomore crime fighters.”

  I put a hand on his shoulder. He barely jumped. “Sophomore and junior,” I said.

  “You’re right! I’m a sophomore. I survived my freshman year, thanks to you.” His grin of achievement gave way to a wavering smile of uncertainty. “There’s a whole new world of terror and obstacles for me to conquer.”

  “Fear not, Deuce,” I said as I realized I’d neglected to give myself credit for one major sophomore-year accomplishment. “I have a manual I can sell you.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  There are people to thank. This book would not exist were it not for Julie Strauss-Gabel, who said to me, “Let’s make this book exist.” (I’m paraphrasing.) It would not have existed on the tenth anniversary of Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie, were it not for Kathleen Doherty, who urged me to take a risk and take on the tough deadline Julie proposed, and for Susan Chang, who gave me a pep talk at a crucial time, and taught me many ways to become a better writer. I would not exist, were it not for my wife, Joelle, who pretty much did everything around the house, and delivered food at key moments, while I stayed in my chair and rediscovered Scott Hudson. She is also my expert resource on things as diverse as culinary arts, plant biology, and muscle cars.

  There are others who were essential in various ways. My daughter, Alison S. Myers, is my go-to source for anything that happens in an English literature classroom, and my go-to peer for philosophical dialogues and epistemological explorations. She also dispenses calmness and wisdom far beyond her years at essential times when Dad is feeling stressed or frantic. (This seems like a good place to thank Mark Myers for a suggestion that became a key theme in the book.) Shannon Tyburczy is my source for the workings of AP History class, the sociology of sophomores, and all things historical. Doug Baldwin is my grammar guru. His wisdom was especially crucial as I navigated the hodgepodge of rhetoric. He also excels at the difficult and demanding task of being one of my close friends. Assistant editor Melissa Faulner served as the perfect central command for what, at times, was a very hectic process, and copy editor Rosanne Lauer’s keen eye kept me from looking like a total dunce. I am in their debt.

  The people to whom (possessive pronoun in the objective case!) this book is dedicated didn’t necessarily have anything to do with this particular volume of my work, but they, too, deserve thanks. All have been called upon for help, advice, support, or companionship at critical times. None (singular!) has ever been too busy to be there when I needed aid, advice, or the second sitter at a table for two. It would take many hours to list all that they have done for me. I fear I have left someone out. But my friends are forgiving, and there’s always the next book.

  Last, and first, there would be no sequel, were there not a demand for it from you, the readers who embraced Scott, Lee, Wesley, and the gang, and the teachers who made that book a part of their curriculum (and who may very well prefer you don’t end a sentence with a preposition, as is their right). I thank you for your enthusiasm, and for sharing my joy of exploring the magic that is our English language.

  You can take the writer out of the sequel, but you can’t—

  . . . never mind . . .

  DAVID LUBAR is the author of many popular novels for young readers, including Hidden Talents and Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie. He has also published many short stories in young adult anthologies. He lives in Pennsylvania.

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