Chapter 18

Our first interview with High School Rules was supposed to be the most exciting thing that has happened to us so far at Gamma. But no one had ever mentioned the terror that was also going to go with it.

After my “frienemy” encounter with Bridge and Venus, I bolted back to the auditorium entrance to see what was going on. The only other freshmen I saw in the crowd were Mase and Traci. So, we just stood together as we watched the equipment and lights whiz by, while we wondered who was leading this parade.

A tall man dressed head to toe in black walked up to us and grinned. “Hey, guys, I’m Rodney Stringer, director of High School Rules. Are you excited to have your first on-camera interview?”

Mase looked at me and nudged me.

“You mean by ourselves?” I said, feeling a small lump in my throat.

“No worries. You’re actually going to be interviewed in small groups. That always seems to help with the on-camera jitters. I’ll ask a few questions but I’ll make sure you know the answers, because we want you to look good on camera,” he joked. “You three are freshmen, right?”

We all nodded yes and followed Mr. Stringer inside the auditorium. A crew guy directed us to sit on the edge of the stage and Mase sat down first. I sat down next to him and became the middle person when Traci followed at the end. With a clipboard in hand, Mr. Stringer sat in front of us by the cameraman.

“Like I said, guys, this is going to be very casual. So, just look at me. And don’t pay any attention to the camera or the microphone.” Rod pointed to the high-tech mic above us.

Mase was first in the firing squad. “So, what’s your name?” Rod asked.

Mase shot me a look as he motioned to his throat and widened his eyes like a deer in the headlights as he grabbed my leg hard. Reacting to the pain, I jumped. “Uh, his name is Mason Milam,” I said, now looking like his fellow deer in the headlights.

Mase pointed to his mechanic’s jacket with his name patch on it to emphasize that the information I had disclosed was indeed true. Rod looked at us a bit puzzled. I jumped back into the ring of fire and said, “Mason has a case of laryngitis. I can speak on his behalf... at least for now.” Then I shot a look back to Mase to remind him that I couldn’t keep doing this forever.

“Okay, well, I wanted to know what Mason thinks about being a freshman finalist,” Rod said as he looked at both of us waiting for an answer to appear. I looked at Mase and he just gave me a shrug.

“He says he wasn’t expecting this but he thinks it’s cool. Right, Mason?” I said, looking for reassurance. Mase rolled his eyes.

Rod flashed his Hollywood smile to me. “And what’s your name?”

“I’m Luz. Santos. And I’m a freshman,” I answered, totally sounding like a robot.

“And what’s your take on being a finalist?”

“Oh, I’m just happy to be a part of the process and I’m proud to be a part of the science cluster at Gamma,” I said, trying to smile, feeling like I should add a parade-float hand wave and knowing perfectly well that this was so cheesy that all I needed was a couple of meatballs to complete the deal.

“Was science a factor in helping you get to this point?”

Was I that transparent? I was taken aback by Rod’s question and I wondered if he was trying to dig up some dirt.

“You mean as a finalist?”

“Yes.”

A wave of nervousness came over me in that instant and lingered. “Well, kinda. Uh, if it weren’t for my colleagues in the science department and my best friend, Bridge, helping get the votes out, then I suppose I wouldn’t be here today.”

“Okay, that’s good,” replied Rod as if that answer worked for him at the moment. Next, Rod turned to taut and tanned Traci as he leaned in to ask her what she thought about being a finalist.

“It’ll work,” said Traci as dry as a cracker with her 2 percent body fat.

“But, in your heart,” Rod said, trying to bring on the drama, “what things do you believe worked in your favor to become a Homecoming finalist?”

“It was probably because people thought I’d beat them up if they didn’t vote for me.”

Rod laughed out loud. “Oh, that’s funny. You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” said Traci, without blinking.

I felt Mase slide away from me and Traci. There was an uncomfortable silence that lingered between us. Taking charge, Rod cleared the air when he cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“Alright, well, let’s talk about dates for the big dance,” encouraged Rod. “Mason, have you had a chance to ask that special girl?” Again Mase looked at me like I was his ventriloquist.

“No, he hasn’t asked anyone ... yet,” I commented. Then I continued, “Oh, I’m not sure yet if my date can go.”

“And Traci?” continued Rod.

“I’ve got some options and I haven’t decided either,” Traci said as she flexed her dating muscles.

“Okay, guys, you all did a good job for being the first team up. Now, you can go with Jennifer. She’ll take some Polaroids of you and she’ll give you a release form for your parents to sign. And again, good job,” said Rod as he broomed us off. I think Rod didn’t feel he had anything TV-worthy to work with from our trio.

I know I didn’t feel like I did a good job, because I was as plastic as a Barbie with my answers. As we exited the auditorium, I saw the next group coming down. A big, fat, plastic voice inside my head told me to stick around.

It’s times like this I wish I had a hidden camera somewhere or monitoring device, but I didn’t, so I did the next best thing. It wasn’t scientific. It was just pure snooping. I decided that I could run back behind the auditorium to the backstage where the stage crew normally hangs out and attempt to listen to the next group.

I had discovered this place when Bridge and I had put postcards out for Mase. And now I could discover what was going to happen next from behind the magic curtain. I peeked through the crack from the side of the stage.

For starters, Venus sat in the middle (what else would you expect), between Bart and Bridge. She crossed her freshly fake-baked legs and whipped her hair to the back. Then there was Bridge. Poor baby. She still looked a bit puffy after our baño banter but seemed to be genuinely excited as the video crew started tweaking the lights and microphones around her.

Bart, who was obviously short on camera etiquette, was smacking down a bag of chips and didn’t worry one bit that his first interview might contain some graphic material between his teeth. Ew.

Again, Rod gave the meet-and-greet info, and then he got right down to biz, since he still had the three other grade levels to interview and that had to be at least thirty more people to go, by my estimation. My zapatos were weighing me down and my feet started killing me from standing there behind the curtain. Then that’s when it struck me, or really my feet. I could use my Chica Speakas to record this interview.

I found a little box behind the stage to sit on and I turned on my recorder very quietly. I also looked at my Watchame so I could time this interview, because if it looked like it was going to last longer than twenty minutes, I’d have to stop the tape quickly instead of letting it shut off automatically and loudly.

Rod began, “So, Venus, how do you feel about being a finalist?”

Venus responded in the most fake sincere voice she could muster, “Well, because we all three hang out both on and off campus together, I totally feel like it was fate.”

“Okay, and what about you, Bridget, or do you go by Bridge?”

“Bridget is fine.”

“Okay, Bridget, we just interviewed your best friend and she said that you were very instrumental to her success in becoming a finalist. Tell me, how did you do that?”

I cringed on that question. There was a long silence. I just knew that Venus was giving Bridge some kind of stabbing look. I wondered if that was captured on camera or not. Then Bridge finally spoke.

“Oh, I know Luz from the science cluster, but really, I don’t have that kind of pull around here.”

Great. Now Bridge made me sound like I was one of those chicas locas that called you her best friend because you loaned her a pencil or something. I knew exactly why she said it, but it still stung.

“Bridge is just being modest,” interrupted Venus. “And that’s what it’s like when you’re up and coming in Gamma’s more well-known or should I say ‘popular’ sects. You don’t realize the degree of your influence.”

That’s really milking it, Venus.

Next, Bart started shooting his mouth off about being part of the Jocks and Locks group. He sounded like an arrogant punk, and I knew that Venus was totally uncomfortable because of the way she let out a little nervous giggle.

Venus then asked Rod if she and Bridge could leave because they had some really important Homecoming things they needed to tend to. Yeah, right.

I wanted to see what was happening now, so I peeked from the side of the stage’s curtains. I saw Venus and Bridge gather their stuff and make a quick exit from the back of the auditorium.

Leaving my shoes behind, I ran to the side door to see if I could catch up with them. I knew Bridge would at least walk that way to the band hall where her mom always picked her up.

I could hear Venus chatting with Bridge on how well they did on camera. I also overheard her say to Bridge that they shouldn’t get too close to Bart when he’s acting like a jackass, because that could affect how things turn out for them.

Suddenly, I heard really loud footsteps running up. And then I recognized Adam’s voice.

“Hey, guys, what’s up?”

“Hey, Adam,” said Venus.

“Hey, Adam,” said Bridge.

“Why didn’t you wait for me so I could interview with you guys?” asked Adam.

“Adam, don’t be such a baby. It’s no big deal. It’s just the meet-and-greet session. Have you done yours yet?” asked Venus, annoyed.

“No, not yet,” said Adam. I could tell that he wanted to talk more, but I could also tell by Venus’s tone that she wasn’t having any of it.

“Well, you’d better get going. Otherwise, you might be left out and wouldn’t that be tragic,” said Venus.

Just then I could hear a production assistant running down the hall calling for Adam.

“Sorry, we’ve got to go,” Venus said, excusing herself and Bridge.

And that’s when I heard the outside door open and the two of them leave, so I knew it was safe for me to swing open the door and get his attention. “Hey, Adam, we need to talk.”

Adam, who was now following the production assistant, turned around and waved me off. I became so mad that he was blowing me off that I stepped out in the middle of the hall and yelled, “Adam!”

Not even turning around, Adam yelled back, “Later, I gotta go!”

As Adam went back into the auditorium, I tried to go back through the side door but it was locked. And my shoes were still onstage behind the curtain while the interviews were still going on.

At least I still had my purse and backpack with me. I tried going back in through the front entrance, but there was some big burly crew guy named Monk who said I couldn’t enter. When I told him that I had left something, he said I would have to wait until all the interviews were done. No sympathy in showbiz, I guess.

And if I waited until Rod got to the seniors, it would be at least another couple hours. Since I knew that my mom was probably waiting for me outside, I didn’t have that kind of time.

My cell phone rang and, sure enough, it was my mom. I was ready to run outside, but knowing those stray shoes were onstage kept freaking me out. I had no choice; I had to go. I figured I would come by and pick them up in the morning. I just hoped no one would find them before I got there.

Like clockwork, my mom asked me how my day was. I told her, overall, it was great. I told her that my science project was already taking me to Regionals but only because I was the only one entering. She said it didn’t matter. She still counted it as a victory.

I also told her that I was one of the freshman Homecoming finalists. She sounded very excited for me. But I told her there was one more thing. The dance and the regional science competition were both occurring on the same day. And since the competition was in Fort Worth (which was an hour away from Dallas) and wasn’t going to be over until seven or eight, I couldn’t make it to the dance in time. Even if I got home and dressed in twenty minutes (if that was possible), I would still get to the dance way after nine, and it ended at ten.

“So, what do you think you should do?” Mom asked.

“I guess I should finish what I started,” I said, hating my answer.

“Bueno. Sounds good to me,” Mom agreed too quickly.

“But, Mom, all the finalists get to be on TV in a video documentary. It would be a really big deal if I missed it,” I argued.

“Maybe, Luz, you just need some new perspective.”

“Mom, what are you talking about?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t try to act like we were in an Afterschool Special or something.

“How are you going to feel about this decision in one, five, or twenty years from now?” She was trying to be all profound.

“Are you serious?” I asked, thinking she was not so much serious as delirious.

“C’mon, Luz. Make a hypothesis—and I’m using your word here—to see how this one moment in time is going to affect the rest of your life.”

“Gawd, Mom. That’s pretty deep and philosophical to ask me while I have an empty stomach, y’know.” I know I sounded bratty but I couldn’t really concentrate right then.

“Yeah, it is. Now you just roll with it for a while, chica,” Mom said now in her “girlfriend” voice, trying to mimic me. And then she continued in her total “mom” voice, “Just make sure you give your father and I plenty of notice on where and when we need to chauffeur you on that Saturday. Hey, why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

I told her I would get them later since I was using them in an experiment.

Once we got home, it was good to be back in my room/laboratory. Shortie came running in to greet me. I gave him a big squish, because I was feeling victorious, but he spoiled it a bit when he licked me in the mouth. Oh, well, he loves me. I still couldn’t believe that Bridge, Mase, and Susan made it as finalists. It was a scientific breakthrough with a little help from the PR department of Mason and Adam and their postcard parade.

And then to top things off, I couldn’t believe that I made it. I mean, I thought about it a lot and I hoped I would, but when they actually announced it, it was simply unbelievable. How did it happen?

I supposed it was my sci-fi peeps who came to the rescue. However, I didn’t think that there were enough of them to make that much of a difference in the ballot box.

Then I remembered the article that Jimbo had talked about. I pulled out the article that Swen had written about me. It was just a tiny blurb that didn’t give anything away, but it still managed to make me look exciting and mysterious. I wondered if Bridge had read it, but she probably hadn’t because she was so busy defending her life and her social status these days. My cell phone rang and I dug it out of my purse so quickly that I accidentally took a picture of myself.

“Hello?” I answered.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” the voice said.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said sheepishly. “I’ll have to deal with that later.”

“Did you get to read the article?” Swen asked.

“I was just in the middle of doing that now,” I said, smiling hard again.

“Yeah. I just wanted to get the ball rolling. You’re okay with it?”

“Yes, totally. Thank you so much.”

“Well, what are your plans now?”

“I thought I would get started working on my presentation for Regionals. And try to figure out how to put all this information together.”

“Do you need some help?”

“Actually I do. But first let me gather up all my info and gadgets in one place,” I suggested.

“Just say when, but let me know soon. I’m doing double duty also trying to cover the whole documentary story at Gamma.”

“Got it,” I said, trying to sound all official.

And then I remembered something. “Oh, Swen?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for everything.”

“No problem. Call me when you’re ready,” said Swen.

After I hung up the phone, I felt like I was floating in space and the air was more breathable and everything looked more, well, shiny. Then my phone rang again. I just figured it was Swen again, so I put on my flirty voice and said, “Did you forget something?”

And the voice on the other end said bluntly, “No, but you did.”

“What?”

“Luz, what’s up with leaving your shoes at school?” Adam laid into me. “The next time, you need to be a bit more discreet when trying to spy on people at school.”

“It’s not like that.”

“It’s exactly like that,” Adam said, totally busting me.

“Okay, so you’re right. So, what happened?”

“Well, I was almost at the end of my interview and I was talking about my ambitions of being a TV journalist when we all hear this beeping. And then the sound mixer says we can’t go on until this problem is solved. So, they send this production assistant behind stage and she finds your shoes. I grab them instantly and tell them that I’ll bring them to you. And then the next thing I know Rod is all fascinated with your shoes and asks me a million questions about you and your gadgets, and experiments.”

“You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“No. You had already stolen too much of my thunder. I just cut everything off by playing dumb.”

“Well, Adam, that’s not a stretch,” I teased, hoping to find him in a better mood.

“You’re walking on thin ice. Do you want your shoes back?” he asked.

“Yeah. Could you bring them by?”

“Yeah, but it’ll cost you.”

“It always does,” I said.

And then I waited for Adam on my beanbag chair with Shortie falling asleep on my lap. I was a bit anxious to hear what was recorded on my shoe. I’m sure it would be interesting, to say the least.