To: Hank Hollywood
From: Dan Welch Management
Dear Hank,
We haven’t heard from you for a while. (We actually never heard from him, just his assistant and all his spies.) I wanted to say hello, and I thought you might want to be the first to know about the latest Sean Rosen project.
It’s a comedy series about Luke, a 13-year-old boy who begs his parents for a dog. They finally get him one, an adorable pooch named Mojo. The first day home, Luke accidentally partially electrocutes Mojo. The dog survives, and now he can hear human thoughts, which only Luke and his friend Noah know about. Since Mojo can’t talk, Luke and Noah have to guess what Mojo is trying to tell them, using yes-or-no questions. The boys and the dog get into adventures and they also get into trouble. It’s called Electro-Pup.
You’re the only one we’re showing this to, so if we don’t hear from you in a week, we’ll assume you’re not interested.
Best,
Dan
I went to Buzz’s after school, and as usual, we played Wii baseball. Buzz always wins, and he always wins by a lot. I decided that today it was at least going to be close.
Unfortunately, me deciding that didn’t really change anything. When it was 27-2, we decided to take a break.
First we went to the Great Hall of Snacks. Whoever picks what’s in this giant freezer really knows what they’re doing. I had a pizza bagel, then a frozen Snickers. Delicious.
Then we went outside and stood on the side of Buzz’s house. Buzz had a cigarette. I never saw him smoke before. No one said anything for a minute. Then he did.
“So, uh . . . sorry.”
“For what?”
“You know . . . Brianna.”
“Oh. Don’t be sorry. Well, I mean not to me. I mean, I don’t know what you did. If you did anything. Actually, what are you sorry for?”
“Oh. Her and I . . . you know . . . we’re not . . .”
“Oh. I know. Don’t be sorry about that.”
“You sure?”
“Definitely. I actually never thought you two . . . anyway, that’s between you and her. I mean you’re my friend and she’s my friend, and . . . to tell you the truth, it’s easier for me this way.
“Good.”
“Good. Buzz . . .”
“Yeah?”
“You look really stupid smoking.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. You look like you’re trying really hard to look cool. But actually . . . you don’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“If my phone had video, I’d show you.”
He put out the cigarette. I felt a little bad.
“I thought you’d want me to tell you.”
“I do. I guess. So . . . there’s this song.”
“Yeah?” He didn’t say anything. “A song you wrote?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it about?”
“It’s like a . . . song about a girl.”
“Oh. When did you write it?”
“Like a few weeks ago.”
“Oh. I’m afraid to ask you this . . . but is the girl’s name part of the song?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. And you like the song?”
“Yeah. A lot.”
I had to think about this. “Well, if Brianna hears the song, she’ll either want to get back together with you or she’ll want to kill you.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of. Both those things.”
“In the song . . . does anything rhyme with her name?”
Buzz sort of sang through the song in his head, but out loud a little. “No.”
“Then just change the name.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“To what?”
“Anything that has the same number of syllables and the same rhythm as Brianna. Like Maria . . . Diana . . . Melinda . . . Jordana . . . Chiara . . . Mikayla . . . Alyssa . . . Sophia . . .”
“Stop. Sophia.”
He sang through the song again in his head, but when he came to the name, I could hear him say “Sophia.”
“It works.”
“Good. When Brianna hears it, she might still want to get back together with you or else kill this girl Sophia, but . . .”
“I know. But now I can at least sing the song.”