35
Last-Minute Change of Plans

“We can’t do it, Ira,” I whisper to him. I can already feel Eagleton staring daggers into my back and know that there’s only a matter of seconds before I get yanked off the stage. But Jou Jou’s waiting and ready to go, so if I’m going to pull this off, if I’m going to do this the right way, it’s got to happen right now. And it’s got to come off perfectly.

“What do you mean?” Ira thinks I’m a nut. He spent four hours putting together the most perfect video of his life, a video that would end the St. Cathopher’s dominance of Rocky Van Sant and Trevor Zelo now and forevermore. And now I’m yanking that moment of supreme pleasure away from him. Then he spots R and T themselves, who are waiting nervously at the far end of the stage. “And what are they doing here?”

“If we show it to them, we’ve got them in the palm of our hands forever, and we don’t get in any trouble. But if we do it, if we purposely humiliate them in public, then we’ll be just like them.”

Ira throws up his hands, exasperated. “What if, this once, I want to be like them?” he asks. “They get to do whatever they want around here. And they have hot girlfriends.”

“Mr. Schrader, get off this stage right now,” Eagleton hisses. “You’re not even supposed to be here.”

O’Biden is right beside her. “I’ll handle this,” she says, stepping up to the mic and telling the audience that the next act needs a few more seconds to prepare. For a quick second, I panic, the headmistress’s presence reminding me that my mom is out there in the audience somewhere, surely wondering what the heck her rebellious, disobedient son is up to now. O’Biden is nodding toward the soundman, who gets the idea and puts a song on to chill everybody out. And I take it as a cue to chill out myself. I’ve gotten this far; now it’s time to see this thing through.

I scramble to the side of the stage, and Rocky and Trevor join Ira. It wasn’t hard to get them to follow me up to the stage. I told them we’d gotten hold of material that made the video they uploaded look like an episode of iCarly.

“Have you lost your mind, Schrader?” Rocky hissed, but Trevor could see how serious I was, and the two of them followed me up here, meek as lambs.

And they both get it as soon as they identify their own pretty faces in the video. I’m kneeling, stage right, out of the headmistress’s view, hopefully, but close enough to hear. I’m not going to miss a second of this; if all goes according to plan, it’s going to be my shining moment.

“Wait, this is not hooked up to the main screen, right?” Trevor asks Ira, craning his neck up for a look above the stage and looking relieved to see that the only light up there is emanating from Ira’s laptop (and possibly Rocky’s bioluminescent hair goop).

The video isn’t exactly what I would call original. It was directed by Ira and myself. But it was edited in the unmistakable style of Rocky and Trevor themselves. And this time, I definitely plagiarized on purpose.

In the video, Rocky, looking straight at Ira’s “invisible” camera, says, “The two of us own this school. Every girl here wants to be with us; every guy here wants to be us. And that’s never gonna change.”

Then Trevor chimes in with “Amen to that!” and a swell of gospel music (a genius touch suggested by my codirector) bubbles away on the soundtrack. Trevor’s voice gets louder and more echoey, repeating “Amen to that!” again and again and again, while Rocky comes back in with “Every girl here wants to be with us,” repeating the egomaniacal phrase again and again.

Back in real time, Trevor says, “You were planning on showing this, but now you’re not?”

“Exactly,” I say.

“And how does that work, exactly?” Rocky asks.

“Because I don’t need to. Because I know what it feels like to look like a complete idiot in front of the whole school, and it’s not something I’d wish upon my worst enemies.” It’s hard not to smile as I add the obvious: “Even when they totally deserve it.”

“What do you want in return, though?” Trevor asks.

I give Jou Jou the signal, thankful that I was able to get him through security as a member of the Doucet family, even though the Doucet family won’t know he’s on the premises for another ten or fifteen seconds. Jou Jou, smiling, passes me my rada, sits down, and starts up the raboday rhythm, loud and clear.

“All I want you to do right now is get off the stage,” I say. “I’ve got more important things to do.”

“Easy enough,” Rocky says. “Later!” He bounds off, but Trevor is slower to leave.

“Oh,” I tell him. “Next time you guys get the urge to humiliate me or any of my friends, you should probably know that Ira and I have literally hours’ worth of material on you two that makes this thing look like a public-service announcement.”

“Fine, man, fine,” he says, walking away. Then, over his shoulder, “She liked you better, anyway. You’re lucky.” And he jumps into the darkness.