Sasha Preston piece of advice: Have
an open mind. It’s easier than it seems.

I think I finally figured out why I’m kind of enjoying working on this project. The reason is pretty simple: it takes my mind off things.

When I’m home, I’m obviously thinking about how horrible things are there, how bad I feel for both my parents, and how I wish things could just go back to the way they used to be. And I’m constantly imagining how bad things could end up getting: selling the house, having to move into a tiny apartment somewhere, and having to change schools since there are no apartment buildings in Rockwood Hills.

And when I’m with my friends, all they can talk about is the stuff they’re buying and getting and all I can think about is how upset I am that I can’t have that stuff.

Or they’re talking about Ross Grunner. Every night Kendall calls me to talk about him. And I don’t know what to say! He hasn’t asked me out yet, so it’s not like there’s news. And I know all she wants me to say is that I don’t really like him that much and that she can go after him, but why should I do that? Kendall has everything else. She was always the one who wanted what everyone else had, and now she has it. Even though I don’t really even like him, she doesn’t need to have him.

So I look forward to working after school with Dina because all I have to think about is the project and finding Sasha Preston, and Dina’s the one with the game plan. And when I see Dina, I kind of feel better about myself. That’s probably the rudest thing ever. But it’s true, and I bet a lot of people feel it, even if they don’t admit it.

I mean, Dina’s fine, but she’s just average. Average looks, average clothes, average everything. And no one knows her, except to know that’s she’s new and she’s been chipped more times than you can count.

So when I compare myself to her, I’ve still got it pretty good. I used to have the best clothes. And they’re still good, just not brand-new. Boys notice me. My hair never frizzes.

It may be conceited to think all of these things, but you have to be happy with what you have.

Plus the thing about Dina and me working together is that she’s so excited. At first, I thought it was kind of annoying. But now I like it. Ever since I made up for not calling her back with the Peanut M&M’s, it’s been smooth sailing.

She really wants to be my friend. And that feels good.

It would make anyone feel good, I think.

Mr. Valakis finds us during social studies. He looks concerned; he always looks concerned. “Girls, you still haven’t shown me any progress on your video,” he says.

“You just asked us,” I say. “With all due respect, true art takes time to mold.” I don’t know how those words just came out of my mouth. It must be Dina’s influence, but I actually kind of like it.

He pinches his lips together. “I see.”

“We’re really working hard,” Dina adds. “It’s just there’s a lot in the works and we can’t reveal it yet.”

I kick her under the table. She shouldn’t have said that. It sounds like we’re up to no good.

“Well, I really need to be kept in the loop,” he says. “This is a huge event, and everyone there will be seeing your work. I can’t have you turning out something like you’d see on MTV.” He laughs nervously.

“That would actually be kind of cool,” Dina says. “A music video—like a theme song for the school. All good slide shows and montages are put to music. And with all due respect, Mr. Valakis, many of the music videos you see are highly cinematic and well thought out.”

Is she serious right now?

“At least you’re putting some thought into it. That’s a start.” He gives us a thumbs-up and walks away.

Dina takes her glasses off and cleans them with the sleeve of her long-sleeve Ben & Jerry’s tie-dyed T-shirt. Tie-dyed? Seriously? “Well, I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” she says. “Why don’t you start taping? Maybe some footage of kids in this class, just working on their projects?”

Dina gets up, asks Mr. Valakis if she can go, and leaves the room.

“Is she kidding with that shirt?” Kendall asks as she moves her chair closer to mine. As soon as Dina’s gone, they completely drop their own project and come bug me. “I mean, really, is she kidding?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

Molly picks the camera up off Dina’s desk and starts fiddling with it, pushing the red Record button and taping herself and then panning around the room to tape everyone else.

“It’s kind of weird to see life through a video camera,” she says. “Doesn’t that sound so, like, deep?”

Kendall bulges her eyes out at Molly. “Real deep, Molls. We’ll just call you Aristotle.”

I’m a little impressed Kendall knows who Aristotle is, so I smile along with her.

Molly’s still holding the camera when Dina comes back into the room. She saunters back in, all dramatic. But what she doesn’t realize is that she has a train of toilet paper stuck to her shoe. She must’ve dragged it all the way down the hallway from the bathroom.

She’s oblivious, like she always is, and then things go from bad to worse.

She trips. It’s not like anyone spilled anything or there are wires or things on the floor. She just trips for no reason. She uses her hands to break her fall, and the toilet paper gets tangled around her ankle, which totally grosses everyone out.

And then the class starts chanting, “Gross Gross, gross Gross!”

It is kind of unfortunate that her last name is Gross. No one in the world would want that as a last name. If she becomes a famous movie director, like she plans to, she’ll have to change it.

“Stop!” Mr. Valakis yells. He’s not really a yeller, so this sounds really abnormal coming from him. The class totally quiets down immediately. “Dina, are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” She laughs, and gets up and then curtsies, like she finds the whole thing funny and isn’t embarrassed at all. I think Dina’s pretty much impossible to embarrass.

Mr. Valakis delivers a lecture on a time he dropped a tray of food in his high school’s cafeteria and how laughing at someone is very detrimental and blah blah blah. I’m not listening because I’m reading a note from Ross.

hey chelsers. when are we hanging out?

It’s not a long note, but I read it over and over again trying to decipher what it means. Maybe he really wants to know when we’re hanging out? But if he really wants to hang out so much, why doesn’t he suggest a day?

Why can’t boys just reveal what’s on their mind, and then girls would never have to wonder and stress? Or maybe boys’ brains could have some kind of ticker, like on the bottom of the TV screen when you’re watching CNN—that would be great, too.

After Mr. Valakis’s lecture on human kindness or whatever, Dina asks, “So, get any cool footage while I was gone?”

I shake my head. Dina’s camera’s back on her desk, but when I lean over and look at Molly’s MacBook, I see a video of Dina falling on the screen.

Molly must’ve transferred the whole thing while Mr. Valakis was lecturing us.

How does Molly know so much about using a video camera all of a sudden?

“Let’s get more B-roll after school—but random people shots,” Dina says. “We’ll meet in the library and walk around and we’ll see who we find.” She waits for me to speak, but I’m still trying to not focus on what’s happening on Molly’s computer screen.

Ross hands me another note, and I get excited, but when I look at the front of the folded piece of paper, it says for dina.

First, he just goes up and talks to her in the cafeteria, and now he’s writing her notes.

I hand it to Dina, and she squeals, “A note? For me?” like some kind of damsel in an old-fashioned movie.

She doesn’t read it aloud, and she doesn’t show it to me, but a few seconds later she turns back to Ross and says, “Sure!”

I can’t imagine what Ross would write on a note to Dina, especially after she just totally humiliated herself in front of the class. Maybe it’s some witty tip on how to walk without tripping. That’d be a very Ross thing to do.

The bell rings, and I leave social studies with this anxious, nervous feeling, like there’s a handful of half-chewed red hots sitting in my stomach. I don’t like that there’s a video of Dina falling on Molly’s computer, and I don’t like that Ross passed her a note. And I especially don’t like that I don’t know what that note said.