Later that day, on the bus home, Toby was all smiles. He stood up in the aisle and said, “So, you ballerinas going to dance for us?” He laughed and went to high-five Josh, who sat looking at him with a blank, annoyed expression. “You know, ballerinas,” Toby continued. “Dancers?” Josh just sneered. Toby went back to his seat.
His attempted put-down was another reminder of our problem. Kids from all grades were giggling. During lunch, while I dined with Mrs. Lutzkraut, news of Robin Hood and the Merry Wimps spread throughout the school. My friends and I were in trouble. Knocking out Josh, terrorizing the McThuggs, defeating the Ghost of Old Man Johnson, and an epic flight off the Ravine of Doom would all be wiped away the second I walked onstage in my costume.
I was reflecting on this problem when Kayla turned my attention to a different crisis. “Did you hear, Rodney?” she asked, leaning over me in the aisle. “Greg asked Jessica to go back to his house to practice their lines.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe it. “They don’t even have many lines! She’s imprisoned for most of the play.”
Kayla smiled, enjoying it. “Yeah, you’re right, but they do have one very important scene together. You heard Mrs. Lutzkraut. It has to be convincing. Greg thinks it’ll be a good idea to practice.” I thought my head was going to explode. Kayla’s smirk widened, then she spied the boy sitting next to me and her expression changed. “Dave, we should ask Mrs. Lutzkraut if we can be stand-ins for Maid Marian and Robin Hood.”
Dave shifted uncomfortably in his seat and asked nervously, “Uh, what’s a stand-in?”
“Like, their backups. You know, just in case Jessica and Greg are sick or something. Anyway, we should practice their parts to be ready.”
“Uhhh,” Dave mumbled.
“Great,” Kayla smiled as she headed back over toward Samantha. “I’ll come by your house at four thirty.”
Dave whispered to me, “Can I come over your house at four twenty?” I heard his words, but my brain was still spinning from the thoughts of Greg’s practice sessions.
By the next day things had gotten even worse. At recess—which I was allowed to attend—we came together and discussed the problem. No one wanted to do the performance. My mention of Toby’s note put them into a real panic.
“We have to do something,” Slim piped up. This was met by unanimous agreement.
“But what?” Dave asked, which brought on a nervous silence. Gradually their eyes shifted in my direction. Dave continued, “Well, Rodney, what should we do?”
“How should I know?” I asked.
“You’ll think of something,” Slim added. “You always do.”
“Me? I’m not the brains of the group. Rishi’s the one always thinks up what to do next.”
“True, I am a bit of an idea guy,” Rishi agreed. “That’s why I’m not at all worried about this situation.” Dave smiled for the first time in two days, and Slim let out a sigh. “I’m not worried because I know Rodney will figure something out.” Dave and Slim nodded in agreement. Sometimes I wanted to bang their heads together.
“Why are you guys worrying yourselves?” I looked up and saw Greg holding his lunch tray. “We’re really lucky to be putting on the play,” he explained. “It beats long division and editing essays.”
Slim snapped, “Didn’t you see the slides, Mr. Hood? You’re going to be in tights, too.”
“So what? I’ve got nice legs. Besides, the girls are excited to see us wearing them. Jessica told me this morning that she couldn’t wait to see me in the dress rehearsal. Anyway, I’ll see you guys later. Oh yeah,” he exclaimed, looking at the other end of the table. “Thanks, Toby, for offering to give me a copy of the video.”
“No problem, Greg,” Toby answered, looking at me with a slight smile. I wanted to pelt the two of them with today’s chicken nuggets.
By the time I got to gym class, I was so jealous that I actually confronted Jessica. We were playing what my old school had called Dodgeball, but at Baber it was named “Happy Marshmallow Ball” because the government here had outlawed Dodgeball. It never made sense to me, especially since both games used the same red playground balls. I walked over to Jessica and whispered, “What are you doing with Greg?”
Jessica dodged a Happy Marshmallow. “What do you mean? And why are you so red?”
“You know, your big practice sessions. What are you doing at his house?”
“Well, he actually came over to my house, and he only came over once.”
That made me feel a little better, but not much. One question still burned in my brain. I wanted to play it cool but couldn’t. “What exactly did you practice?”
Jessica smiled and asked, “Why should it matter to you?”
She had me there. I tried to decide if I should tell her that I liked her. I began to open my mouth but she spoke first.
“He wanted to practice the kiss scene but my dad saw him and sent him home.”
Greatly relieved, I told her the truth. “Your dad sounds like a great guy.”
Jessica laughed. “He is. It looks like I’ll only be kissing Greg during the dress rehearsal.”
Just as my brain wrestled with that one, a Happy Marshmallow smashed me right in the face.