December

Today Mr. Wilson, the history teacher, told us we could sign up for Model UN. Chuck and I got all excited until Mr. Wilson explained that it wasn’t actually a United Nations made up of models. Too bad. I think that’s a really good idea.

So Christmas is just a little more than three weeks away, and I know what I want: An X-Blast 3-D Video Console Gaming System. I’ve been trying to drop little hints about it—like, I’ve been leaving newspapers and magazines open to ads for it. And anytime we’re watching TV, and my dad is fast-forwarding through commercials, I’ll make him stop and watch the X-Blast Gaming System ads, and then I’ll say, “Cool! I bet one of those would be a lot of fun to have!”

You know—subtle stuff like that.

So today at lunch, Mr. Hoover, my gym teacher, announced that he would be handling the sign-up sheet for the ninth-grade talent show next week. And I didn’t tell any of my friends, but I went up to him afterward and signed up. I’ve been working on some pretty good celebrity impressions, and I want to surprise people with them.

If I had to play an instrument, I think I would play the bagpipes, because if I did it badly, no one would be able to tell.

At lunch today, Chuck and Kevin were talking about the talent show, and saying how they were wondering what people would do. They were pretty sure that Courtney Clark would do some kind of gymnastics routine, and Amanda Haller would try and sing, and maybe Brian Timmins would juggle. But none of them even guessed that I might be doing something! It’s gonna be awesome when they see what I’ve got planned.

So tonight, after dinner, I decided to tell my parents about my celebrity impressions for the talent show. And my mom said, “I didn’t even know you could do celebrity impressions!” And my dad said, “Let’s hear one!” And so I said, in my Shia LaBeouf voice, “Guess who this is?” And my mom said, “Um, I don’t know.” And my dad said, “Was that an impression?” And I said, “It was Shia LaBeouf! I sounded just like him!” And my mom said, “You know, he doesn’t really have that distinctive a voice. . . .” And so then I did it again, but this time, I said, “I’m Shia LaBeouf, the star of the Transformers movies.” And my mom said, “Ohhhh . . . yeah, I guess I can hear that now.” And my dad said, “Maybe you should try someone with a more distinctive voice, like Bugs Bunny, or Darth Vader, or something.” And I said, “Everyone can do those! I’m doing the really hard ones.” So I tried a bunch more impressions on them—Leonardo DiCaprio, Ryan Reynolds, Ben Affleck—but it seemed like they only really could figure out who I was trying to impersonate if I started my impression by saying, “I’m—” and then filling in the name of the person.

Still, I’m guessing that’s just my parents and their old ears. I think my impressions are great, and I bet everyone at school will, too.

Today was the talent show. It got off to kind of a slow start. As we’d expected, Courtney Clark did one of her gymnastics routines. And Alana James played her violin, and Todd Nguyen and Jeff Blanchard did a funny ventriloquist routine where Jeff sat on Todd’s lap and pretended to be a dummy. And then Doug Spivak came out to show off his talent: “I can call whether a coin is going to be heads or tails while it’s still in the air and be right, like, almost half the time.” And then he threw a quarter in the air, but he lost sight of it, and spent about five minutes crawling around on the stage on his hands and knees looking for it before Mr. Hoover told him we had to move on. And then it was my turn. And I came out, and I started with my best impression: Ryan Reynolds, from the Green Lantern movie. And the room was super quiet. And at first I thought the microphone didn’t work, but when I asked if it was working, everyone shouted, “Yes!” And so I tried a few more of my impressions—Sam Worthington, Jon Cryer, Ryan Seacrest—and still, nothing. And I suddenly realized that I was doing even worse than Doug Spivak, and I started to sweat horribly.

And then I looked around the room and saw the teachers standing in the back, and I realized: there were some people I could impersonate who everyone would know immediately. So I said, in my best Mr. Burke voice, “Hey, kids! Who’s interested in the magic that’s inside you?” And everyone started laughing. And then I started imitating all the school’s teachers—Miss Pethoukis’s odd, raspy voice, Mr. Webster’s weird habit of making every sentence sound like a question, Miss Delacroix’s French accent—everything I could think of. And by the end of it, when Mr. Hoover asked people to applaud for their favorite act, everyone cheered the loudest for me.

Except for the teachers. They looked kind of angry. And afterward, Mr. Hoover came over and said, “Congratulations. You just won the talent show, and detention tomorrow.”

And you know what?

It was totally worth it.

Today I served my detention. It was kind of weird—I’ve never gotten detention before. I was assigned to “lunch detention,” which means you have to get your lunch, then go eat quietly in Mr. Perkins’s room for the whole lunch period. You’re not allowed to read anything fun, or nap, or draw anything. You’re allowed to do your homework, and eat lunch, and that’s it.

None of which would be that bad, except that the room’s totally quiet, and Mr. Perkins has this weird thing where he clears his throat and makes a really gross phlegmy noise—like a super loud snrk!—every thirteen seconds. I know it’s every thirteen seconds because, once I started noticing it, I couldn’t pay attention to anything else. It was impossible to read or do homework, and definitely made it impossible to eat, because it was such a disgusting noise.

I talked about it afterward with the other kids in detention, and none of us could figure out: Does Mr. Perkins not know that he makes that noise? Or does he know it, and that’s why he volunteered for detention—because he knows it’s so unbearable that you’ll do anything never to get put in a silent room with him again?

Anyway, one of the other people in detention was Dean Bartlett, who’s the goalie on our school’s hockey team. He’s a freshman, even though he’s sixteen, because he got held back a few times. And he’s huge, and kind of mean. And he came up to me after detention and said, “I saw you were doing your geometry homework in there. Are you good at it?” And I said, “I’m pretty good.” And he said, “Awesome. Coach says I need to get my average above a C in order to keep playing. So you’re gonna be my study buddy.” And I said, “You mean, like, helping you with homework and stuff?” And he said, “No, I mean doing my homework. And sitting close enough to me during tests that I can copy off of you.” And I said, “What if I don’t want to do that?” And he said, “Then I’ll break your collarbone. Why? Do you not want to do that?” And I said, “No! I was just curious.”

Anyway. I should go work on my geometry assignment for tomorrow. And then, I guess, work on it again with slightly different handwriting.

So I brought Dean his homework today. And he looked at it and said, “Hang on. Give me your assignment.” And I did, and then he erased one of my answers and wrote in a wrong one. “There!” he said. “If our homework’s identical, Ms. Graham might get suspicious.” And I said, “Why did mine have to be the one with the wrong answer?” And he said, “Because you like having all your teeth.” Which seemed like a pretty good answer, actually.

We got our geometry assignments back today. Dean got an A-minus, and—thanks to the answer he changed—I got a B-plus. Dean took me aside after class and said, “Look, an A-minus is nice, but I think, if you really apply yourself, you can get me an A.” It’s weird that he has such high standards for work he isn’t doing.

At dinner tonight, I spent awhile talking about the X-Blast Gaming System, telling my parents about how it’s the most sophisticated gaming system known to man, and how it’ll really help me improve my hand-eye coordination, so it’s practically an educational tool. And I think it’s working, because right after dinner, I heard them talking quietly upstairs for a long time, so I bet they’re figuring out when to get the system for me.

Today my mom and Sophie made a gingerbread house to decorate our mantel. The creepy thing about a gingerbread house is, the house is made out of the exact same materials as the people. So I guess, to a gingerbread person, it’s basically a house made out of their own flesh.

I was sitting home tonight, watching TV, when the phone rang. And it was Dean, calling me to remind me that “we” have a geometry test tomorrow, so he wanted to make sure that I was studying. So I guess I should start reviewing geometry for tomorrow, even though I’m actually just feeling sort of tired and achy.

Ugh. I woke up this morning with a horrible sore throat and a fever, so I stayed home from school and slept. It’s two o’clock and I just woke up and—uh-oh.

The geometry test.

I wonder how Dean did.

Well, today I was back at school, and I managed to avoid Dean all through the day, right up until final period, when I saw him in geometry. Afterward, Dean cornered me near my locker and lifted me up by my shirt. He said I was in big trouble for not being there for him on the test, but that he’d consider forgiving me if I wrote his Huckleberry Finn paper for his English class. I told him I wasn’t even in that class, and he said, “Well, I guess you’d better start reading, then, ’cause it’s due our first day back from Christmas break.”

So today’s the first day of break—Chuck and Kevin and I have already made a bunch of plans to hang out. Tomorrow, we’re thinking of going to the mall, where Chuck’s older brother Sid is working as a Christmas elf in Santa’s Workshop. Chuck says Sid has to be “in character” at all times and pretend to be an elf named Bingo, so we wanted to go and see how much we can bother him before he finally snaps.

I asked my dad if he would take me to the mall, and he said he couldn’t, because he and my mom had something they needed to do. And since it’s not like them to be all secretive, I said, “Where are you guys going?” And my mom said, “It’s just . . . an errand we need to run.” And my dad said, “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad.” And then they smiled at each other.

And that’s when I knew: they were going to Best Buy to get me the X-Blast Gaming System. There’s just no other possibility I can think of.

Well, tonight after dinner, my parents sat me and Sophie down and said, “We have some big, exciting news for you. We were going to wait until Christmas, but we couldn’t wait.” And Sophie said, “Are you getting a divorce?” And my mom said, “No!” and my dad said, “Why would you even ask that?” And Sophie just sort of shrugged and said, “Lots of my friends’ parents are getting one.” Then my mom asked her what she thinks a divorce is, and Sophie said, “I don’t know, but a lot of times, when people’s parents get them, they wind up getting puppies.”

Then my dad said, “Well, no, we’re not getting divorced. But you two are getting—” And I said, “You got us an X-Blast 3-D Video Console Gaming System!” And my dad said, “Um, you’re getting a little brother. Or a little sister. Your mother is pregnant.” And I said, “But aren’t you too old to have a baby?” and Sophie said, “I don’t want a baby! I want a puppy! Why can’t you guys just get divorced?” and went off to her room and slammed the door. That’s when my mom turned to my dad and said, “You know, none of this is going the way I’d imagined.”

So I was hanging out with Chuck today. I told Chuck that my mom’s going to have a baby, and he was like, “Wow. So, are you going to have to give up your room? When my baby sister was born, I had to start sharing a room with my little brother.”

We don’t have a third bedroom for the baby. I hadn’t even thought of that. So at dinner tonight, I asked my parents, “Where’s the new baby going to sleep?” And my dad said, “Well, we were thinking that, if it’s a boy, it’ll be in your room, and if it’s a girl, it’ll be in Sophie’s.” I asked how soon we can find out what the baby’s going to be, and my mom said, “Don’t you think it’ll be fun to be surprised?” I don’t think my mom and I have the same idea of what constitutes fun.

So today was Christmas, and the good news is, I got a whole bunch of games for the X-Blast 3-D Video Console Gaming System. And with each one I unwrapped, I got a little more excited, because I figured that my parents had actually gotten me the gaming system. But once I’d unwrapped everything, there was still no gaming system. And I said to my parents, “Um, where is it?” And my mom said, “Where is what?” And I said, “The gaming system. The one to play these games on.” And my dad said, “Oof. Um . . . we thought you already had the system for these.” And I said, “Why would you think that? We have the X-Tastic 3000HD Video Gaming Console System. That’s a totally different thing! Weren’t you paying attention when I was talking about it all this month?” And my dad said, “Well . . . we were a little distracted, what with the baby and all. . . .”

So I got to spend Christmas morning staring at games that I have no way of being able to play. I can’t believe that my new sibling is messing up my life when he or she isn’t even here yet.

My mom had an ultrasound today, and brought home a picture of the baby:

According to my mom, the blob at the right is the baby’s head, and the stuff at the left is its legs. Or vice versa. I can’t remember. My mom said, “Don’t you think it’s cute?” and I noticed my dad standing behind her nodding yes, so I said it was cute.

I bet a really good business would be one where you pretend to have an ultrasound machine, and then just hand everyone the same blurry photo and tell them it’s a picture of their baby. I don’t know why nobody’s thought of that.

On second thought, maybe they have.

Well, Sophie and I kept nagging my parents, and today, they agreed to call the doctor and find out if the baby is a girl or a boy.

And it’s a boy.

Which means, I guess, I’ll soon be sharing a room with a little brother.

So this morning at breakfast, we started talking about what to name my new brother. Sophie suggested naming him Justin Bieber. My dad said, “You mean Justin as his first name, and Bieber as his middle name?” And Sophie said, “No. Justin Bieber, period.” I suggested naming him Lastname, because I think it’d be funny whenever someone asked for his first name if he said, “Lastname.” My mom said, “Um, actually, we’re leaning toward naming him after my father. So his name would be Fred.” Which was a relief, because for a second there, I thought she meant they were going to name him Baby Grandpa.

So my dad talked to me today about the baby. He said, “How do you feel about being an older brother?” And I said, “I already am an older brother.” And he said, “Oh. Right. But this won’t be like Sophie. This’ll be a little kid who needs someone to look up to, who can teach him right from wrong.” And then he whispered, “Between you and me? I’m not sure I trust Sophie with that.” And I said that yeah, I guessed I was ready for it.

And then my dad said, “Come down to the basement.” And we walked into the rec room downstairs, where we keep our broken ping-pong table that we never use, and some old boxes of junk. And he said, “So, this is a pretty big room. And it gets some light from the windows near the ceiling. And your mom and I have been thinking—what would you say to having a little space of your own? We could clear out this room, and you’d have a whole private setup down here. Would you like that?”

And I said, “A private space that’s two floors away from Sophie and a crying baby? What do you think?” And my dad smiled and said, “Yeah. I figured you’d say that.”

Well, I guess this marks the end of another year. I don’t know what next year will bring, but I’m excited for it. I mean, for starters, I’ll have a whole floor of the house to myself, which’ll be fun. Plus, I’ll have a little brother. And I’ve got a lot to teach him. I mean, just look at all the stuff I’ve learned this year. I learned how to ice-skate, and how to dance. I learned not to put a suit in the washing machine, and to always put eggs on top when bagging groceries. I learned where my appendix used to be, and where my high school’s swimming pool isn’t. And I learned to spell prospicience, even though I don’t know what it means.

I did find myself thinking about what my dad said, though—about being a good role model for my little brother. And I’ve been thinking about what a lousy role model it’d make me if I kept letting Dean Bartlett intimidate me into helping him cheat his way through high school. So tonight, I started work on his paper on Huckleberry Finn—I want to have it ready for him to hand in the day he gets back to school. Here’s how it begins:

Huckleberry Finn is the story of a huckleberry with a fin.

I can’t wait to see what grade Dean gets on it.