I’ve always loved recess—who doesn’t?—so I’m really happy we still have it in middle school. The adults say it “helps the students exercise their bodies and exercise their social skills.”
I don’t know about that, but it’s definitely nice to get outside in the middle of the day.
You can do whatever you want at recess. Some kids play sports, other kids gossip, a few kids read quietly. It’s usually pretty much a free-for-all, with the boys going one way and the girls going another.
But that doesn’t mean the boys don’t text the girls the entire time. And vice versa.
But that week, things were different.
After a few days, us Cavemen had our recess routine down: head to the far end of the blacktop to hang out. Monday, Celia and Jackie had discovered that they each liked knitting, so they started bringing their stuff to school and knitting matching sweaters for their two favorite teachers to give as end-of-year presents. And on Tuesday, Eliza and I realized that her birthday was the same as my mom’s, and they both loved roller coasters, so we decided to have a big double-birthday bash at Six Flags. (It won’t ever happen—trust me—but it sounded awesome at the time.)
By Wednesday’s recess, one thing was clear: the Phonies were pretty tired of watching the Cavemen become one big happy family, and they were ready to do something about it.
I first noticed something was different when I got outside and Pete was hanging out on our side of the blacktop with his obnoxious friend Eric, who I hadn’t liked ever since fourth grade, when I saw him pick his nose and wipe it on the shirt of the girl in front of him (she never noticed, luckily).
The rest of the Cavemen were hanging back, not sure what to do.
I went up to Pete. “What are you guys up to?”
Pete shrugged. “What do you mean, what are we up to?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I just thought, you know, like this is usually where we hang out.”
He smirked. “It’s a free country, last I checked.”
Then Eric got out his cell phone and punched in a number. “We’re ready,” he said into the phone.
Suddenly it seemed like the whole grade was running over to the blacktop. They were all holding something over their heads. As they got closer, I could tell what they were.
Cell phones.
Timmy and Charlie Joe were in front of everyone else, as they came running up to me and the rest of the Cavemen.
“Everybody ready?” Timmy yelled.
“Yeah!” everybody answered.
Charlie Joe cupped his hands to his mouth. “1 … 2 … 3!”
On “3,” everyone pushed a button, and a song began to play. On everyone’s phones. At the exact same time. Loudly.
“Show Me Your Moves,” by Plain Jane.
Definitely her dance-iest song.
Show me your moves
And I’ll show you mine
We can decide
Whose moves are more fine
Show me some style
Show me finesse
And I’ll show you how good
I can look in this dress.
Show me the right stuff
And leave out the wrong
And I’ll show you I love you
’Til the end of the song.
Suddenly, the blacktop was covered with people. And they were all dancing. People who think dancing is the dorkiest thing in the world were dancing. People who think dancing at recess is even dorkier were dancing. Even Charlie Joe Jackson was dancing.
Everyone was dancing.
And it turns out fifty cell phones playing the same song can make a pretty loud racket.
Charlie Joe came over to me and smiled. I tried to smile back.
“I thought you were way too cool to ever dance!” I shouted. “Especially at recess!”
“It’s a special occasion!” he shouted back. “This is my favorite Plain Jane song! It doesn’t have one of her preachy messages. It’s just plain fun!” And he danced away.
Meanwhile, the only people not dancing were the Cavemen. We watched, not sure what to do. We all looked at each other.
I walked over to Becca. “Can you believe this?”
She shook her head. At least, I thought she shook her head. But then it kept shaking, and I realized that she was actually moving to the beat.
“Becca!” I said.
She looked at me. “What? I love this song!” And in the next instant, she ran out to the blacktop and joined the dance party.
The rest of the Cavemen followed in two seconds.
I was the last one standing on the sidelines. Even Eliza, my cofounder of the Cavemen, was out there, dancing up a storm. “Sorry,” she mouthed to me, while slithering up to Charlie Joe.
I watched, wanting desperately to join in, but I couldn’t. I was either too proud or too annoyed. Probably both. After a few seconds, I felt someone come up beside me. It was Ms. Ferrell, my guidance counselor.
“You guys should play this at the talent show,” she said.