It’s exactly one week since the debacle at the dance and I feel like I’m still dealing with the aftermath in every part of my life.
I feel rotten because Sharon is really upset with me. Usually when Sharon is mad and says I embarrass her, like the time Foxxy and I scared her friends when she had a slumber party, it lasts for only a day. But this time it’s different. I can see how hard she’s working on the play. After all, she’s the star. She begged me with tears in her eyes not to mess up the play for her. I really wish she would’ve threatened and screamed at me like usual. Then I would’ve felt better. But now I feel embarrassed not only for myself but for Sharon, too. I think I’m finally going crazy.
Miranda isn’t acting the same. I don’t think she smiled once all week. More than anything, I want to call her and tell her how sorry I am about the car window and tell her how great she is in the play. But I can’t. I have no idea how to say it. And I really don’t think I could say anything, because she looks angry and I have this feeling it’s because of me.
Erica Dickerson won’t stop talking about the snow shoveling. She really wants me to tell her why I was there. And even though I think Erica’s pretty dense, I know she’s not that dense.
Mom is really upset about the snowball I hit Mr. Mullaly with. Of course, I’m the one who should be upset since I’ve been terrorized by nightmares ever since. All that hard work trying to be good and this is what happens.
John Lutz really came through, though. The night after Mr. Mullaly called, Lutz stayed (even though he wasn’t invited) for dinner. He finished the last pork chop, which made Dad angry. Then he gave Mom his empty plate as if Mom were a waitress. I could tell she wanted to smash it over his head, but she didn’t. That seemed to divert attention away from me.
Another distraction has been the play. There’s more to my part than I thought. I’m one of the first people to go up on stage and speak after the big song to start off the show. My speech is called the exposition and I kind of tell the audience what’s happening. (Chollie is with me and only has to say, “He don’t belong in this town,” but he can’t really do it.)
Next week I’m going to start rehearsing a dance scene with Miranda. It’s going to be me, Ralph Waldo (who’s practically a professional dancer), and Miranda. I just know I’ll be able to make it up to her with this dance.
Miranda
To: Erica
From: Miranda
Date: February 19, 2016 9:07 PM
Subject: Sorry
———————————————————————————
E,
I lied when I told you I couldn’t go to the movies tonight. I wasn’t grounded. You know what I’m doing? Sitting alone in my room and thinking about how a week ago I was at the dance with Tom and everything seemed right in the world. Then in one day, Tom dumps me by e-mail, and Chollie, Sam, and Duke decide to ruin my life, and my dad’s new car, on a perfectly beautiful winter day.
I also have to apologize for not having lunch with you this week. I didn’t have any work to do on the yearbook. I was actually hiding in the library. There was no way I could go to the cafeteria with all the teasing about Saturday.
Please don’t think I’ve been avoiding you. I only meant to avoid everyone else. I just can’t deal right now. Please forgive me.
M
18
Freewriting
Sam Dolan
February 29th
English 8A
Mr. Minkin
Suggested Writing Prompt: Think about something or someone that annoys or bothers you. Write about what it is and why it bothers you. What can you do to make it less irritating?
Hey Mr. Minkin,
This is the easiest question ever in the history of writing prompts. I’m up to my ears in Erica Dickerson, I really am. She is the most annoying and bothersome girl in the school, in the town, in the state, in the country, on the planet, in the solar system, and in the expanding universe.
Why does she bother me?
There are so many reasons. First, she is my science lab partner and acts like we’re good buddies when we’re not. And then she’s pals with Miranda Mullaly and it seems that every time I have a chance to talk to Miranda, Erica is with her. It’s like she’s Miranda’s bodyguard or something. What I can’t understand is why a smart, classy girl like Miranda is friends with someone as uncouth (thanks for the vocab word, Mr. Minkin) as Erica.
I try to ignore her but you can’t ignore someone like Erica Dickerson.
Here’s the real strike against Erica Dickerson, though.
Today in science lab I have just about enough of Erica so I ask to go to the bathroom. I really don’t have to go but I just need to get away from her and I can’t stand looking at Chollie with Miranda. I walk around the whole school and after about ten or fifteen minutes I spot Lichtensteiner so I head back to class.
And in class there’s Erica with a big smile on her face.
“Hey, this is pretty good,” she says, pointing at my notebook.
“What’s pretty good?” I say.
“Your book. Watch This! It’s not bad at all,” she says.
Erica has my story notebook.
I’m too shocked to say anything. I mean, who goes looking into other people’s things?
“I could help you with that,” Erica says.
I just shake my head and don’t say a word. It’s no use even wasting your breath on someone like her.
Chollie Muller
February 29, 2015
English 8A
Mr. Minkin
Suggested Writing Prompt: Think about something or someone that annoys or bothers you. Write about what it is and why it bothers you. What can you do to make it less irritating?
Dear Mr. Minkin,
Sometimes it bothers me when people are mean to each other at school.
And sometimes it bothers me when Coach acts like sports are the most important thing in the world.
And I’m really annoyed that Billy has moved out. I miss him even though it’s probably for the best.
And sometimes it annoys me when we do work in groups and no one lets me do anything. It was fun working with Miranda on the Brazilian tapir project, but she did all the work. So I read and wrote about how the gravity of the moon is strong enough to change the direction of the Amazon River. Imagine that. But in the end Miranda didn’t think it was important so even though my name was on the report, I really didn’t contribute.
And it bothers me that people call me Chollie. My name is Charles Muller, but a long, long time ago, way back in kindergarten, I couldn’t say Charlie and instead I said Chollie. So now everyone calls me Chollie, even my parents and teachers. But my real name is Charles, with an R, and now I can say Charlie. But it doesn’t matter. My name is now Chollie whether I like it or not. And even though it’s pretty unfair, there’s nothing I can do about it.
Miranda Mullaly
February 29, 2016
English 8A
Mr. Minkin
Suggested Writing Prompt: Think about something or someone that annoys or bothers you. Write about what it is and why it bothers you. What can you do to make it less irritating?
Oh, I think I can come up with a few people that annoy and bother me right now.
Sam Dolan—for hitting my father with a snowball.
Duke Samagura—for breaking my father’s car window.
Chollie Muller—for ruining the play by not remembering his line.
Mr. Wexler—for casting Sam, Duke, and Chollie in the show.
Tom Nelson—for dumping me.
Erica Dickerson—for refusing to forgive me because of one little lie.
And to keep from wasting paper and my time, the entire student body of Penn Valley Middle School—for teasing me about what Sam, Duke,
and Chollie did and insinuating that I would have anything to do with those three stooges.
Duke Vanderbilt Samagura
29 February 2016
English 8A
Mr. Minkin
Suggested Writing Prompt: Think about something or someone that annoys or bothers you. Write about what it is and why it bothers you. What can you do to make it less irritating?
Sir:
My parents, Neal and Cassandra, have been very annoying. When they found out about the snow-shoveling disaster (I’m sure you heard about it, you lover of gossip) they were actually excited because they thought Sam and Chollie were my friends and our “fun” got out of hand. They were so thrilled about me “playing” out in the snow that they offered to pay Mr. Mullaly the one hundred dollar deductible for the broken car window.
Is that really the kind of opinion parents should have about their one and only beloved child?
And now they want to host the cast party for closing night of the musical. As the star it is my duty to host it, and I’m certainly happy Neal and Cassandra brought it up. I did not want to be beholden to them.
Unfortunately they insisted on helping me with the invitations. They noticed Sam and Chollie, who are officially listed as cast members, did not get invitations.
“Why aren’t you inviting your two friends?” Cassandra asked.
I shuddered at hearing the word friends. “They’re hardly in the show,” I said. “It wouldn’t be right to invite them and not the others cast as Helpers.”
Cassandra and Neal shook their heads in disagreement. Because they are sociologists, they become offended and hurt anytime a stranger is offended or hurt. They sensed that Sam and Chollie would be offended and hurt if they weren’t invited.
So thanks, Neal and Cassandra, for ruining the cast party before it even begins.
19
Steam Heat
Duke
When I found out Ralph Waldo broke his leg skiing, I thought instantly of Shirley MacLaine.33 If you’ve brushed up on your Broadway history, you’ll know that Shirley MacLaine became a star after filling in for Carol Haney when she broke her ankle during the original Broadway production of The Pajama Game. It was the beginning of her illustrious career. So as I marched to Mr. Wexler’s room to discuss replacing Ralph Waldo in “Steam Heat” I thought, of course, of Shirley MacLaine.
But the greatest difficulty of starring in a show with an incompetent director like Mr. Wexler is the fact that the man lacks imagination.34
Here’s how it played out:
INT.—MR. WEXLER’S ROOM—DAY
MR. WEXLER sits at his desk, rubbing his temples, running his hands through his hair. DUKE VANDERBILT SAMAGURA stands at attention.
Mr. Wexler
Without Ralph Waldo we can hardly do “Steam Heat.”
(Duke looks down at Mr. Wexler, a meager man when compared to Duke.)
Duke
Get ahold of yourself, man! Think. What would Shakespeare do?
(Mr. Wexler is speechless. Duke crosses the desk and pulls Mr. Wexler to his feet.)
Duke
Shakespeare would have another actor substitute for Ralph. I can do it. I will do it.
Mr. Wexler
But the audience will know you as Sid, the star. It won’t work.
Duke
It will. It must.
(Duke is about to slap some sense into Mr. Wexler when the door swings open. MISS KERRIGAN storms into the room.)
Miss Kerrigan
I’ve figured it out.
(Duke and Mr. Wexler turn to Miss Kerrigan.)
Miss Kerrigan
Chollie Muller. He can fill in for Ralph.
Mr. Wexler
Chollie Muller? He can’t even remember his line.
Miss Kerrigan
I’ll teach him. I can do it.
(Duke is visibly disappointed. He releases Mr. Wexler from his grip and walks to the door.)
Mr. Wexler
He is a pretty good athlete. I suppose we have little choice in the matter.
Miss Kerrigan
I can do it!
Mr. Wexler
Let’s get to work on it right away.
So now Chollie Muller gets to dance with Miranda Mullaly as yours truly watches from backstage. What a waste of talent.
CHOLLIE
Today in history class Mr. Wexler interrupts and asks to speak with me outside. So I go outside with him and he looks terrible.
“I have bad news, Chollie. Really bad news.”
I suddenly get real emotional. My eyes fill with tears and my stomach burns and my heart races and my mouth is so dry I can’t talk. I’m thinking something terrible has happened to Mom or Dad or Billy.
“I’m telling you this first, Chollie,” Mr. Wexler says, and he puts his arm on my shoulder.
“What happened?” I ask.
“It’s Ralph.”
“Who?”
“Ralph, Ralph Waldo,” Mr. Wexler says.
I have no idea what Mr. Wexler’s talking about.
“Ralph broke his leg.”
I suddenly let out a big breath. And it’s crazy because I didn’t even know I was holding one.
“What I’m going to ask you, Chollie, is of utmost importance. Can you handle ‘Steam Heat’?”
“I don’t know,” I say, because I really still don’t know what he’s talking about.
“I’ve seen you play basketball, Chollie. I think you can do it.”
And then it hits me that “Steam Heat” is a song and dance that Ralph and Sam Dolan do with Miranda Mullaly. I straighten up a bit, as if I’ve been slouching, and put my shoulders back.
“I can do ‘Steam Heat,’ Mr. Wexler,” I say.
I have to. For Miranda.
But it turns out that I can’t do it. I really can’t do it. Miss Kerrigan tries and tries to teach me the dance steps and I just can’t do it. We spend an hour, a full hour, working on the dance steps as I watch Sam sit and talk with Miranda. And after all that time, I still can’t do it. Miss Kerrigan finally leaves the stage and Mr. Wexler sends me home, shaking his head in frustration.
I have all this going on and I can’t even talk to Billy about it.
SAM
So there I am backstage, limbering up and stretching and doing all the stuff you do before you dance a big dance number. And who walks up on the stage with Miss Kerrigan but Chollie Muller.
“Mr. Dolan,” Miss Kerrigan says, “Chollie is taking over for Ralph Waldo.”
If you haven’t heard, Ralph Waldo broke his arm or leg this weekend skydiving or spelunking or doing something else that no one has ever heard of. It was just about the best news of my lifetime because I assumed I’d dance “Steam Heat” with Miranda alone. I give Chollie my tough-guy look, because I want him to know I don’t want him dancing with me and Miranda Mullaly.
“Isn’t it kind of late to learn it? Maybe it would be better if just Miranda and I do it together.”
Miss Kerrigan laughs.
“Why don’t you take a seat with Miranda until I get Chollie acclimated to the steps and sequencing.”
Miss Kerrigan points to the front row where Miranda is reading a book. I jump off the stage, really excited, since this will give me a chance to talk with Miranda. I can finally bring up Twilight.
“Reading a book, eh?” I say to get things going.
Miranda ignores me but that’s okay because I know how serious she is about school and books and things like that.
“I really love the Twilight books,” I say. “You can bet I’ll be in line when the next one comes out.”
Miranda looks at me as if I’ve just farted.
“I loathe, I detest, I despise those books.”
I instantly get the impression
that Miranda hates Twilight. And that’s really odd because Erica Dickerson told me once . . . Erica Dickerson! She set me up!
I make a quick mental note to get back at Erica. And then I return my attention to Miranda.
“Yeah, those books are kind of boring. What are you reading there?”
This gets me right back in the game. Miranda closes the book and shows me the cover. It says 84, Charing Cross Road.
“That looks like a good book. What’s it about?”
“It’s about a woman in New York City who corresponds with a bookseller in London.”
It sounds incredibly boring, sort of like something Sharon would read, but rather than say that, I say, “That sounds really exciting.”
Miranda laughs and it’s awesome. I mean, what a smile!
“It’s not terribly exciting,” she says. “In fact, hardly anything happens in the book.”
“Then why do you like it?” I ask.
Miranda takes a moment to think about this. I mean, is this a great conversation or what?
“What I like about the book is how these two wonderful people connect without ever meeting one another. But they’re connected by their love of literature and history. And their love of books.”
Miranda pauses and I think about Watch This! and how I can’t wait to give her a copy.
“Does that make sense?” Miranda asks.
And just as I’m about to say it makes total sense someone says, “Nothing make sense to Dolan.”
It’s Erica Dickerson. She climbs over the seat to join us. She even sneaks in between us, ruining the moment like only she can.
20
The Final Dress Rehearsal
Duke
If you know anything about me, by this time you know I do not go for all this newfangled Internet stuff. So instead of sending out impersonal Evites for the cast party, I decided to hand each cast member an invitation. Call me old-fashioned, but I personally think it is the perfect thing to do before the final dress rehearsal. There’s nothing like the cast party to put one’s mind at ease before the stress of opening night.
Me and Miranda Mullaly Page 11
