So now I’m not going to talk to Miranda in the morning, and I’m thinking about avoiding all females before noon.
At school, the day gets a little bit better because for the first time in a while Lichtensteiner doesn’t accost me in the hallway. I have to say, who needs bullies when you’ve got a big lunk like him roaming the halls?
But I’m not letting Lichtensteiner and the toilet paper get me down. And I’m not letting my sisters’ erratic behavior in the morning get me down. I’m not letting anything get me down, because I have a play to star in.
Well, I’m not exactly a star, but my name is on the list, second to the bottom, and it says I’m First Helper. Believe it or not, Chollie Muller has got a part, too. When Chollie walks past me, I show him his name. I immediately wish I didn’t because for some weird reason, I don’t want Chollie Muller in the play.
It sort of burns me up, seeing Chollie’s name beneath mine. Not only does he get to work with Miranda Mullaly in science class, but now he’s going to be in the play with her, too. And seeing Chollie in the school library working on the science report with Miranda really gets me. I’d bet Chollie didn’t even know there was a school library until he started working with Miranda. You can pretty much understand why Chollie is at the bottom of my good-guy list.
Everybody’s talking, but I don’t say anything to anyone because I don’t know anyone in the play all that much. It’s really just all the dorks that run for student council and write for the crappy student paper. They’re whispering to each other and it doesn’t take a genius to tell there’s something wrong. Then I realize what the whispering’s all about. Sharon’s name is on top, next to the part of Babe, and that’s the lead. Everyone thought Miranda would get that part, not a seventh-grader.
Then everyone quiets down as Miranda Mullaly comes up with Erica Dickerson in tow. Geez, I wish Erica Dickerson would go away. I can’t even congratulate Miranda because Erica is at her side like a bodyguard. Erica must be related to Lichtensteiner.
Then Sharon comes along and sees her name up on top and does her best not to act too excited. But I know Sharon. I’ll be hearing about this all night at dinner and all night when I’m trying to watch television. But like I said, Sharon plays it cool, kind of lifts her eyebrows as if she’s surprised, and then Miranda comes up to Sharon and they talk for a couple of seconds. Then Miranda shakes Sharon’s hand. It’s really funny, all this showbiz stuff. It’s like they all have their own little world and their own little rules.
So as I’m walking off to class, thinking about Miranda, I let my guard down and walk right into Lichtensteiner.
“Where you going, Dolan?” he asks, apparently unaware we’re in a school.
“To class.”
“Where’s your class?”
“Biology, and I don’t want to be late.”
“Have you been to the bathroom yet today?” Lichtensteiner asks, just like it’s a normal question. God, this school is really horrible sometimes.
“Isn’t that a little personal?”
Lichtensteiner has to think about this, he really does.
“All right, Dolan, don’t be late.”
I don’t even bother saying anything else. If I didn’t have basketball and the play and Miranda Mullaly, I would really go off on Mr. Lichtensteiner and tell him what I really think about his nose hairs and how he runs the school and how he should invest in a toothbrush. But I have a lot going on and can’t worry about Lichtensteiner’s toilet paper problem.
In science class Duke comes up to me, rocking back and forth on his feet, and starts talking to me about the play, just like we’re old buddies.
“So, Sam, I see you’re in the play,” he says.
“Yup,” I say.
“I look forward to working with you,” Duke says, but it kind of seems like he’s lying.
“Yup,” I repeat, hoping he gets the idea that I don’t want to talk to him.
“Of course,” he goes on, “I have the lead and you’re only First Helper.”
I’m not liking the way Duke is talking about this, like he’s better than me, if you know what I mean. But I keep my cool.
“The cast is dye,” I tell Duke. I’m not sure what this means, but I know I’ve heard it before and I know enough to know that I’m in the cast.
It works, too, because Duke, the weirdo, gets a confused look on his face and doesn’t know what to say and finally leaves.
Duke
The roles for the spring musical were due to be posted on the bulletin board outside the main office. But before I took a peek at how Mr. Wexler would ruin this year’s show, I decided to toss a bit of toilet paper in the bathroom next to the computer lab. I did my job and left behind Sam’s math work that I picked out of the trash can yesterday.
I was in a jolly good mood knowing Mr. Lichtensteiner would pester Sam Dolan before the morning was over, and I was so sure I would be playing opposite Miranda Mullaly that I was practically floating down the corridor. So you can imagine my surprise when the first thing I see above my name is DOLAN, and then I look over to see Sam Dolan smiling. I almost collapsed.
Was I unaware of some demented interpretation of The Pajama Game? Was Babe going to be Sam Dolan in drag? Don’t laugh. There’s little I would put past Mr. Wexler when trying to attract an audience for the musical. But then I saw Sam congratulate his sister Sharon, who gave quite a performance at the audition. She must have been adopted.
I gathered my strength and stood up straight, steady on my feet after seeing my hopes of costarring with Miranda crushed. And then I saw Miranda’s name below mine and below Sharon’s, across from the role of Gladys.
Miranda, bless her soul, looked a little shocked. Erica Dickerson, who was cast as the stupid secretary, Mabel, told her to cheer up. Gladys, I must admit, is a meaty role, maybe even as good as the role of Babe.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chollie Muller getting a high five from Ralph Waldo because Chollie is Second Helper. Lord save us if he has to speak. And above Chollie’s name was Sam Dolan’s as First Helper. At least he didn’t get a better part than that.
I’d seen enough and left for class.
In science, I struck up a little conversation with Sam in order to find out his intentions regarding the show. Sherlock Holmes would have needed to put on a costume to hide his identity, but for a knucklehead like Sam, there was no need to bother beating around the bush. And for the first time in my life, I felt sorry for the teachers at Penn Valley. What a heartbreaking waste of time it is to try to educate imbeciles like Sam. He actually said, “The cast is die”14 with a pathetic righteous indignation as if he actually knew what he was talking about. I would normally feel sorry for Sam, but because of the thumbtack and his penchant for hovering around Miranda, he is my enemy and I am his.
Miranda
To: Erica
From: Miranda
Date: January 14, 2016 9:02 PM
Subject: Gladys
———————————————————————————
E,
I just got off the phone with the world’s greatest boyfriend and I feel so much better about the role of Gladys. Tom agreed with you that I shouldn’t let it get me down not getting the lead. After all, it’s only a middle school musical.
I’m sorry for being such a weirdo about it today. It’s just that I had my heart set on the lead. Thanks for being there and cheering me up.
Isn’t it amazing that I have the world’s best boyfriend and the world’s best friend? I don’t know what I would do without you two.
XOXOXO
M
8
Freewriting
Duke Vanderbilt Samagura
18 January 2016
English 8A
Mr. Minkin
Suggested Writing Prompt: Where do you see y
ourself in five years? What will your life look like? What important relationships will be in your life? Explain.
Sir:
Have you ever heard of Harvard University?
That’s where I’ll be in five years.
And you, sir, will still be here at Penn Valley Middle School, giving students stupid writing prompts and ripping off the taxpayers.
I can picture myself now, crossing Harvard Yard on my way to a lecture on intellectual history or maybe Russian novelists. On my arm will be Miranda Mullaly, and we’ll be laughing at our memories from our senior prom and, possibly, even sharing a couple of laughs about Penn Valley Middle School. Perhaps something about how stupid the teachers are.
“Doesn’t it all seem so long ago?” Miranda will ask.
“It all seems to be a dream, looking back on it now,” I will say, squeezing her hand.
Miranda will walk me to my classroom and there we will part for only an hour. Miranda will promise me she will read her art history text and not miss me too much. I will promise Miranda I will meet her after class on the steps of the Widener Library. (Did you know the library at Harvard is called the Harry Elkins Widener Memorial Library? Now you know. Good for you, Mr. Minkin, you’re learning something.)
And all this will happen despite the handicap of having had Robert Minkin as my eighth-grade English teacher.
Sam Dolan
January 18th
English 8A
Mr. Minkin
Suggested Writing Prompt: Where do you see yourself in five years? What will your life look like? What important relationships will be in your life? Explain.
Hey Mr. Minkin,
Another great question. I am really enjoying these writing prompts.
And five years is a good future time to think about. It’s going to be great in five years. I’ll finally be out of school and have my chance to move to New York or Los Angeles (wherever Miranda ends up) to start my career as a professional funny person. Maybe doing standup about my sisters or doing stunts for funny movies. I decided to turn “Watch This!” into a book and it’s already way better than the stuff Johnny Knoxville comes up with. Someone should pay me for it!
Dad and I have talked about it but I made him promise he wouldn’t tell Mom. I know she’ll say I should go to college. It’s not like I have anything against college. I mean, I’m sure it’s great for some guys but I just imagine college with a whole bunch of dorks like Duke Samagura carrying around briefcases and wearing sports jackets. Besides, I don’t want to waste any time. I just want to get out there and make people laugh.
An awesome question, once again, Mr. Minkin!
Chollie Muller
January 18, 2015
English 8A
Mr. Minkin
Suggested Writing Prompt: Where do you see yourself in five years? What will your life look like? What important relationships will be in your life? Explain.
Dear Mr. Minkin,
Are we going to be in high school in five years?
If so, I’m hoping I’ll be on the basketball team and we’ll be in the middle of a great season.
And I’m hoping Billy gets back on his feet and gets a job or goes back to school.
And then, most importantly, if all goes as planned, I’ll be preparing for the prom with Miranda Mullaly. I’ll have a license by then and I’ll borrow Dad’s car and I’ll rent a tuxedo and Miranda will wear a pretty dress and I’ll say “Holy Moley!” and Billy will be super impressed as Miranda and I drive off for the prom.
So that’s where I plan to be in five years. In high school, on the basketball team, with Miranda Mullaly as my girlfriend.
The future looks bright!
Miranda Mullaly
January 18, 2016
English 8A
Mr. Minkin
Suggested Writing Prompt: Where do you see yourself in five years? What will your life look like? What important relationships will be in your life? Explain.
I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I can see Tom and me in the future, holding hands walking across a tree-lined college campus. I’m thinking Williams or Amherst, or maybe Swarthmore, if we decide to stay closer to home. We’ll both have books under our arms; Tom will probably study Economics, I just know it! I’ll probably have about ten worn and dog-eared paperbacks, doing my research for my thesis on Jane Austen.
Tom and I will sit down under an elm tree, or maybe a chestnut. Of course we’ll have a blanket and there will be apples and all the other students will pass by us and wish they had the love we have. Professors will pass us and think to themselves, ah, youth!
Or, maybe we’ll be in a train station in Paris. We’ll carry all our belongings and guidebooks stuffed in our backpacks. And we’ll have a year together in Europe, getting lost on cobblestone streets, eating too much pastry, and learning new languages before we begin college. Secretly, I hope we’ll do the latter.
Either way, I just can’t wait!
9
The Championship Game
CHOLLIE
After I miss the two free throws at the end of the championship game today I’m just about sick to my stomach. But when I look around the locker room, no one else seems to care as much. In fact, Coach is the only one really upset about the game. I feel like crying, but Coach is actually crying. It’s really weird. And with Coach sobbing across from me, I feel worse because this is how he reacted after I fumbled the ball going in for a touchdown against Cedarbrook in the fall.
I know I shouldn’t care, but I still feel bad about it because I feel responsible. I should’ve made those two shots at the end of the game.
It’s just killing me inside. I have been waiting forever for this game. And not only do I want to win it for myself because Cedarbrook beats us in everything, but I also want to win it for Miranda.
The gym is so crowded that the cheerleaders have to sit underneath the baskets because there isn’t any room on the bleachers. Can you believe that? It’s just like a college game.
The first half isn’t too bad because the cheerleaders are on the end where we play defense so I can’t see them. But in the second half we’re shooting right where they are. I try to block it out of my head, I really do, but then I figure I’ll just play harder for Miranda. And it works. We hold the lead at the end of the third quarter. But then Sam Dolan misses a layup when he is all alone, and we have a couple of turnovers, and Cedarbrook crawls right back into the game.
And here’s the part that makes me sick. We are down one point (one point!) and we have the ball. Coach calls a time-out and we’re standing around him, waiting for him to draw up the play. Then out of the corner of my eye, I see Miranda with the cheerleaders doing their final cheer for us and I take charge.
“I can beat my man, Coach,” I say.
Coach looks at me like he’s never seen me before. He looks really stressed, like he can’t talk, so he nods and gives me the drawing board.
So I get right to it.
“Okay, now, we have eight seconds. I’ll take the inbounds pass and we’ll clear out the lane. Sam, you drive to the basket. If your guy comes up to stop me, you’ll be wide open underneath the basket.”
The horn blows and we break the huddle.
Everything happens so fast. I beat my guy and drive down the lane and Sam’s guy comes up to me but I can’t get the pass off to him. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground and the crowd’s cheering and the ref tells me I get two free throws.
At the free throw line, I look straight down at my sneakers, because I know if I look up, I’ll see Miranda Mullaly. But I have to look up so I can see the basket. I do and there’s Miranda, her pom-poms under her chin, really interested in what will happen next. I know it’s stupid, but I just smile at Miranda. A big smile. A smile like I’ve already made the shots and we won the game.
&
nbsp; Then I go on and miss both free throws and we lose the game because of me.
And that’s why Coach is crying in the locker room after the game.
Last year I probably would’ve been crying along with Coach. And I do feel bad about losing. But I’m also happy because I get to see Miranda Mullaly tonight at the library so we can finish our report on the Brazilian tapir.
I must be going crazy.
SAM
Picture this. It’s the championship game and it’s the final seconds and I’m open under the basket. Can you picture it? I’m all alone under the basket. So all I need is for Chollie Muller to make the pass—the pass he draws up during the time-out—so I can put the ball in the basket and we can win the championship.
It’s not that difficult, right?
And the best part is Miranda Mullaly is practically right under the basket. So I get to be the hero and Miranda Mullaly gets to jump in my arms and the whole school gets to pour out of the bleachers and do a victory dance at center court.
But none of this happens. None of this happens because Chollie Muller, the fathead, decides to shoot when he’s got two Cedarbrook players draped over him. Lucky for Chollie, the ref calls a foul. So now all Chollie has to do is make the two free throws and we win.
We line up and the gym is pretty quiet, and I look at Chollie, then down at my feet to make sure I don’t get a lane violation. Then I look at Chollie again and you’ll never believe what I see. Chollie isn’t looking at the rim and concentrating on his shot, but instead is looking at Miranda Mullaly. I’m not making this up.
Well, of course, Chollie misses the first shot because he’s not even looking at the basket. Unbelievable.
Then it gets even quieter, if that’s possible. Chollie bends his knees and looks like he’s going to make the shot, and we’ll at least have overtime. Clank! Right off the rim, and we lose.
Me and Miranda Mullaly Page 5
