Me and Miranda Mullaly (6 page)

7

Basketball. Basketball. Basketball.

The championship game is next week, and I think we're ready to go. And as I'm walking down the hall I'm dribbling an invisible basketball, keeping my head up and spinning to avoid teachers and students. I can actually hear the roar of the crowd.

So I'm kind of shocked when Sam Dolan grabs my arm as I'm “dribbling” by the main bulletin board. I still have the roar of the crowd in my head, so I don't hear what Sam is saying. But I follow his finger and he's pointing to where they've posted the results of the play tryouts. I can't believe it. I've been so busy I forgot all about the tryouts for the play, and that was only three days ago. Boy, time sure flies when you're having fun.

My name is at the bottom of the list as Second Helper.

“What the heck is the Second Helper?” I ask Sam. His name is on top of mine as First Helper.

“I don't know what it means,” Sam says with a big smile, “but if it's on the board, it's gotta be good.”

Sam is right. It's really great that I made the play, especially since the whole lab partner thing with Miranda has kind of not worked out. She's one of these workaholic types, so when we're together, it's just work, work, work. But I get it, because whenever I'm practicing football or baseball or basketball, I'm in a zone. That's the way Miranda is with science.

Miranda comes along to see where her name is. It's not on top, which I figure is not a good thing. Sharon Dolan's name is on top. And I think Miranda is upset her name isn't on top. A huge part of me wants to go over to Miranda and tell her it will be okay, but we're just not at that point yet.

Then Miranda goes over to Sharon Dolan and congratulates Sharon for having her name on the top of the list, sort of like shaking hands after a football game. It's all really confusing, this play stuff, but I'm learning.

“Why do you want to be in the play anyway?” Sam asks.

I forget Sam is still standing next to me.

It's weird that Sam wants to know why I want to be in the play. But he's been acting weird lately. I see him at the library almost all the time, which is odd because I always thought Sam was like me and didn't know where the library was.

“A guy can't be too one-dimensional,” I tell Sam, dribbling my imaginary ball to science class.

This morning Sharon is in a rotten mood because she ripped one of her contact lenses and has to wear her glasses.

“Four eyes are better than two,” I say, trying to cheer her up.

Sharon holds up a spoon and waves it at me in a threatening manner. “Don't push my buttons. Don't.”

I look at Dad and he just goes on eating his toast. And Mom acts like nothing happened.

“Would you like some orange juice, dear?” she asks Sharon, as if she had
not
just threatened me.

So much for trying to lighten the mood.

But you see, this isn't just this morning. When I really think about it, this type of thing happens almost every day before we even get a chance to rub the sleep out of our eyes. The day before, Sharon and Maureen were both mad at Mom because she said something about them not eating enough breakfast.

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.

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.

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

Duke Vanderbilt Samagura

18 January 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.

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!