“It’s a joke. You get it?”
“You didn’t have the ‘focus’ to finish the whole thing?”
He nods before turning the Ferrari off, and puts his pointer finger sideways under his nose. He’s got another tattoo of an old-timey mustache on the side of it.
I start laughing. “You’re crazy, dude.”
He agrees. “I thought you’d like that.”
The doors rotate up, and we climb out.
C. B. leans against the car and says, “Hey, for the audition . . . it’s great that you memorized the lines, but I don’t want you to get locked into that script.”
I glance around in hopes that someone will see me hanging out with this dude. We close the doors and he continues, “I really want you to keep it loose and show these producer dickheads how great you are. Just bring that chemistry you and Abby brought to Guys and Dolls . It’s electric and raw, and the camera is going to eat it up. These Kidz Channel guys just have to see it and feel it . . . so they’ll get off my ass about casting Hilary Idaho and Zac-Michael Wienus.”
I try to make him feel better. “They were pretty good in Cheer! The Musical .”
He seems even more agitated when he says, “That’s the exact comparison I don’t want.”
“At least they haven’t turned your story into a musical.”
He squeezes his face with his hands and adds, “I just heard this morning that they’re trying to write songs.”
“What could they possibly sing about? Your book is one of the most depressing things ever written.”
He nods his thanks and explains how in the novel, Chris has dreams about his family and Maggie, so they want to delve into a happy place for a while and add these singing fantasy sequences.
I think that sounds ridiculous, but what the hell do I know, so I try to keep it positive. “It could work.”
It takes a few more minutes for Nick Brock, Bart, Skeleton, Pam and her friends Jemma and Yasmine, plus my boys (EJ, Doc, Nutt, Bag, Hormone, Levi, J-Low), this d-bag Andre, and ten other dudes to show up and get out of their overstuffed cars. We strut into the restaurant, still dripping with CrossFit sweat. We order the crap out of the menu because C. B. is buying. Massive amounts of food cover seven tables. I ordered guacamole and chips with my tacos for the first time ever, because my dad “will not pay three goddamn dollars for some chips that they should give you for free!” and C. B. will. We have the whole restaurant to ourselves because we’re so obnoxious and stinky. Either that, or everyone else eating lunch on a hot Monday afternoon really wants to sit on the patio. I’ve never had so much fun eating, and these chips are worth the money! C. B. is the coolest adult I’ve ever been around. If anyone tries to talk about his movie, he changes the subject and tells a joke or he asks us a question, and it seems like he’s really interested in the answer, like we’re not just a bunch of smelly, dumbass kids who don’t have Ferraris. I didn’t expect the writer of such a depressing book to be so entertaining.
I wish all high school parties went down at Chipotle!
7. VARIOUS TECHNIQUES
I’m in the back of Nick Brock’s truck, trying to pick a bug out of my eye, because Pam is now occupying the Ferrari’s passenger seat. We’re all headed toward her and Bag’s house for an impromptu party. Bag seems worried about his sister in the race car, and this bug seems to be drowning in my eye.
When the truck finally rumbles into the driveway, a full-fledged party has spontaneously erupted. I thought we’d just play some video games and hang out, but my sister is here, along with most of my school, and miraculously, some of them are already drunk. If the Red Cross were as organized as the party grapevine in Merrian, a lot of lives would be saved.
I lose my second game of Wii tennis and start dancing in the kitchen next to a bunch of senior girls. It’s fun, but all I can think about is how mad Bag’s mom is going to be when she
“You didn’t have the ‘focus’ to finish the whole thing?”
He nods before turning the Ferrari off, and puts his pointer finger sideways under his nose. He’s got another tattoo of an old-timey mustache on the side of it.
I start laughing. “You’re crazy, dude.”
He agrees. “I thought you’d like that.”
The doors rotate up, and we climb out.
C. B. leans against the car and says, “Hey, for the audition . . . it’s great that you memorized the lines, but I don’t want you to get locked into that script.”
I glance around in hopes that someone will see me hanging out with this dude. We close the doors and he continues, “I really want you to keep it loose and show these producer dickheads how great you are. Just bring that chemistry you and Abby brought to Guys and Dolls . It’s electric and raw, and the camera is going to eat it up. These Kidz Channel guys just have to see it and feel it . . . so they’ll get off my ass about casting Hilary Idaho and Zac-Michael Wienus.”
I try to make him feel better. “They were pretty good in Cheer! The Musical .”
He seems even more agitated when he says, “That’s the exact comparison I don’t want.”
“At least they haven’t turned your story into a musical.”
He squeezes his face with his hands and adds, “I just heard this morning that they’re trying to write songs.”
“What could they possibly sing about? Your book is one of the most depressing things ever written.”
He nods his thanks and explains how in the novel, Chris has dreams about his family and Maggie, so they want to delve into a happy place for a while and add these singing fantasy sequences.
I think that sounds ridiculous, but what the hell do I know, so I try to keep it positive. “It could work.”
It takes a few more minutes for Nick Brock, Bart, Skeleton, Pam and her friends Jemma and Yasmine, plus my boys (EJ, Doc, Nutt, Bag, Hormone, Levi, J-Low), this d-bag Andre, and ten other dudes to show up and get out of their overstuffed cars. We strut into the restaurant, still dripping with CrossFit sweat. We order the crap out of the menu because C. B. is buying. Massive amounts of food cover seven tables. I ordered guacamole and chips with my tacos for the first time ever, because my dad “will not pay three goddamn dollars for some chips that they should give you for free!” and C. B. will. We have the whole restaurant to ourselves because we’re so obnoxious and stinky. Either that, or everyone else eating lunch on a hot Monday afternoon really wants to sit on the patio. I’ve never had so much fun eating, and these chips are worth the money! C. B. is the coolest adult I’ve ever been around. If anyone tries to talk about his movie, he changes the subject and tells a joke or he asks us a question, and it seems like he’s really interested in the answer, like we’re not just a bunch of smelly, dumbass kids who don’t have Ferraris. I didn’t expect the writer of such a depressing book to be so entertaining.
I wish all high school parties went down at Chipotle!
7. VARIOUS TECHNIQUES
I’m in the back of Nick Brock’s truck, trying to pick a bug out of my eye, because Pam is now occupying the Ferrari’s passenger seat. We’re all headed toward her and Bag’s house for an impromptu party. Bag seems worried about his sister in the race car, and this bug seems to be drowning in my eye.
When the truck finally rumbles into the driveway, a full-fledged party has spontaneously erupted. I thought we’d just play some video games and hang out, but my sister is here, along with most of my school, and miraculously, some of them are already drunk. If the Red Cross were as organized as the party grapevine in Merrian, a lot of lives would be saved.
I lose my second game of Wii tennis and start dancing in the kitchen next to a bunch of senior girls. It’s fun, but all I can think about is how mad Bag’s mom is going to be when she
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