Carter's Big Break (3 page)

I took it easy on my first few days of vacation. I think it’s called a “semi-coma” in medical circles, but my dad didn’t make me work on the deck, and I had a chance to read the
Down Gets Out
script. I’m disappointed to find that it’s really different from the book, so I call Abby to make sure I’m reading it correctly.

She’s pissed off at me for not calling her for three days, but after listening to me mumble the excuse, she feels bad for me. She’s also not happy about the script changes, but I guess Ms. McDougle explained all of the reasons on the last day of school. The story is less about the homeless kid and more about the girl who helps him.

Abby says, “It’s because stories about empowered young women are very hot this year.”

I mutter, “But that’s not what the book is about.”

“Well, you can tell C. B. Down and the producers at the audition.”

“Maybe I will,” I joke.

Sometimes she thinks I’m a complete dumbass, so she begs, “Please don’t!”

She asks if she can bring me anything for my pain, so I inquire if there is any way she could get a hold of a slutty nurse’s uniform and hook me up with a nice sponge bath.

She isn’t really on board with dirty talk yet, so she just starts yapping about how busy she is with drama camp and drill team practice. We make plans to see a movie tomorrow so that she can see for herself how jacked up I am and give me some proper sympathy. She fills me in on more gossip about the movie: “The Kidz Channel is producing it,” she says with dread.

“Cool! We might get to be on Kidz?”

“Not cool,” she replies. “They have their own talent pool, but that’s not what’s got Ms. McDougle freaked out. She thinks they’re going to cheese up C. B.’s story even more. It’s supposed to be a Sundance type of film, not a Kidz movie, and just because it stars young people, they think—”

I cut her off, “What do you mean, ‘their own talent pool’? Like, we won’t get to audition?”

“No, McDougle says that C. B. really wants the producers to see what we can do, but because of all the money they are throwing at him . . . they’re trying to force him to cast those Kidz Channel actors who’ve grown up in front of the camera. McDougle says they’ll ruin the film with their bad acting.”

“It’s his story, right? He can do whatever he wants with it. That guy didn’t seem like a sellout to me.”

“It’s the first film he’s done with a decent budget. She says he’s always been really poor, so he might not be able to handle it very well.”

I start to freak out, but Abby tells me that there’s nothing we can do except be great at the audition. We talk through the scene a few times, and she explains all of the weird script terminology. One of the drama camp guys has done some film work, and he was nice enough to teach it to her. The dialogue we’re reading from is almost at the end of the movie. It’s really short, and it seems to be an argument between her character, Maggie, and my character, Chris. The lines are really sad, too, because we’re coming to the realization that we shouldn’t be together anymore. The script says that I’m supposed to cry, but it doesn’t say how I’m supposed to make that happen. Abby says I shouldn’t even try, but it says it right there on the page: “Chris sobs.” She also explains that her character is forcing my character to break up with her so that Chris can move on and accept the scholarship and not feel tied down. We go through all of the lines a few times and Abby sounds really good already. I, on the other hand, need to work on it. She tells me not to worry about getting too emotional or anything and to just keep it simple and see what happens. The lazy side of me wants to agree with her and just wing it, but there’s this new side of me that’s learned about the power of hard work and how effective it can be. My head is really starting to pound from all of the thinking I’m doing . . . that and the blunt trauma I suffered a few days ago.

She says, “Take some Advil, Carter. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

I don’t say anything for a couple seconds because I’m trying to read what’s written on my hand. She reminds me with a slight tinge of bitchiness, “We’re seeing a movie tomorrow, at one o’clock. Write it on your arm, please.”

“Dude, I got it!”

The next day I wake to the sound of a saw ripping through the old deck and my mom yelling at my dad, “Knock that racket off!” I can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s not angry with him for building a new deck, she just wants to make it clear that she’s not helping with it. I go back to sleep for a minute but am awoken again by the sound of the car starting. Dang it! Mom and Lynn are going shopping and leaving me to fend for myself. I remove my crusty bandages for emphasis and go down to break the news to Dad that I can’t help him today.

“I-I-I’m still in a lot of pain,” I dramatically explain. “And Abby really wants to go to the movies.”

He seems disappointed but doesn’t make me help. He revs the saw and says, “You’re going to miss the best part— demolition!”

I point to my swollen face and tell him that I’m sorry, before going inside to eat cereal and look at the audition sides again. I can’t stop thinking about it. The dialogue is way better than
Guys and Dolls
, but it’s that same kind of rapid-fire talking, so I know that I need to have the lines down pat. Ms. McDougle has trained us to analyze dialogue in terms of the emotions as well as the words. She always asks us, “What do you want from this scene?” But I have no idea what my character wants yet. I can tell that it’s going to require a very subtle, passive-aggressive anger and various levels of hurt. I’m not sure how I’m going to play all of that, but I’ll keep working on it until I do.

EJ skids to a stop in front of my garage as I’m inflating the new front tire my dad brought home yesterday. “You ready?” EJ asks.

“For what?”

He notices my pus-filled scabs and yells, “Daang, your face is gross!” then does a reenactment of the wipeout, complete with sound effects, slow-motion action, and instant replay.

“Very nice. What am I supposed to be ready for?”

He replies, “The movie!”

“No, dude, I’m seeing a film with Abby.”

“So am I.”

I shake my head. “It isn’t a tricycle date; you’re not invited.”

“Yeah, I am. We’re meeting up with her and Nicky at one o’clock.”

“Bitchy Nicky?” I ask.

“Yep,” he clarifies. “And don’t call her that anymore.”

“What do I call her?”

“Just Nicky, dude.”

“That’s not her name.”

“Yes, it is. Actually, it’s Nichole.” He giggles.

I do a mean impression of his giggling, so he’s aware of it and won’t do it again. When his dumb smile has faded, I hop on my bike, and we roll out. I’m not trying to be a hater here, but EJ is making a big mistake, and I don’t want to double-date with it!

As we ride he tells me, “Yo, you need a hat or an eye patch so Nicky doesn’t freak out about your evil eye.”

My mouth is still sore, so I just shoot him a dirty look, as if to ask, “Why would I do anything for that hose beast?”

EJ catches my meaning and replies, “She’s got a nice ass!”

I cannot dispute that, but she’s still the spawn of hell, so I mutter, “She was so mean to me last year—”

“Yeah, I think that’s what makes her such a badger in the sack!”

Pain flies through my skull as my jaw drops. “Son of a bitch, you’ve already had sex?!”

“Hell yeah!” he yells, and goes to high-five me. “Three times!” he adds. I stick out my hand for the slap, because he’s my boy, but I’d rather run him off the friggin’ road. This SOB hooked up with Sara “the Caboose” Ruiz a few months ago, and then he got lucky with a drunk Hooker High slut at his church. The Caboose heard about the Hooker and cut him off, and I was secretly very happy about that because I was more than a little jealous. I had been slightly ahead of him in this department until he tapped the Caboose. But now he’s pulling ahead of me like a race car from a go-cart.

“Did you or did you not
speak
to her for the first time . . . four days ago?” I ask.

“That is a fact.” He beams.

“Man, she’s a slut!”

“No doubt, but you can’t call her that, either.”

I shoot him another look.

“Dude, I need you to be cool to her,” he says nicely. I’m considering his request when he looks over at me, puppy-eyed, and adds, “We’re in love, man.”

UGHHHHH, what the hell is wrong with this summer?

We pull up to the movie theater just in time to see Abby and Nicky hugging like long-lost friends under the marquee.

“Must be a friend day,” EJ observes.

Abby looks super cute, so I pop a wheelie into standing and give her a painful kiss. “S’up?”

Abby notices my busted-up mug and gasps.
Finally. Thank you.

Nicky’s arms are folded when she snidely says, “You’re late!”

I look at my watch and see that she is absolutely right . . . We’re one minute late. I glance up from my watch and sigh, “You gotta be kid—”

Abby shuts me up by touching my bruised face and asking, “How’s your face, baby?”

I flash a wincing smile because I was just referred to as “baby” for the first time since I was an actual “baby.”

“It’s killing us!” Nicky laughs like a horse and punches EJ in the chest.

EJ laughs his ass off at the lame joke his whore made, so I seethe, “Wow, that joke was funny . . . in sixth grade.”

I cannot believe those two have had sex!

“Be nice,” Abby says, grabbing my hand.

Nicky looks at EJ’s bike, then at her manicure, and snickers. “I don’t know why I thought when you said that you were ‘riding bikes,’ that you meant motorcycles. Of course you boys only have Big Wheels.”

I ball up my fists to end this double-date disaster, when Abby jumps in to defend us. “Bicycles are way cooler than motorcycles. You get exercise and peace and quiet, and you’re not destroying the environment.”

“And it’s not illegal for us to ride them,” I add.

Abby finally asks, “What movie do you guys want to see?”

“
Cheer! The Musical
!” Nicky barks.

“Yeah right,” I snort.

Nicky screeches, “EJ?!” in protest.

As if my best friend would side with
her
over
me
and see friggin’
Cheer! The Musical
!

EJ looks at Nicky’s boobs and then explains to my Nikes, “Carter, um, Hilary Idaho plays the head cheerleader. She was always your favorite
Get Up Gang
member. . . .”

My left eye pops open for the first time in two days. “I do not, nor have I ever had, a favorite
Get Up Gang
member!”

The Get Up Gang
was this morning show on the Kidz Channel that Lynn used to like, so therefore I watched. It was about this band of kids who lived in a cool clubhouse/ loft and sang corny edited versions of gangster rap songs and worked out elaborate dance routines to them. I remember kind of digging a Halloween number, “99 Problems but a Witch Ain’t One,” but Lynn stopped watching when the gang took a field trip to Iowa, and they put on overalls and cowboy hats and proceeded to assassinate the old 2 Live Crew song “Me So Horny” by turning it into “Me So Corny.” That was too much. The show was really popular, though, and those guys were everywhere for a while: magazines, cereal boxes . . .
America’s Most Wanted
. This one kid, Tito, who wore an eye patch, died of a drug overdose, and they just replaced him with another one-eyed guy named Tito, like we wouldn’t notice. They all seem so cheesy and happy on the show, but in real life they’re always getting arrested or going to rehab. Every episode has a moral about “abstinence” or “truth and justice in the hood,” but it’s tough to sell honesty and chastity when mug shots and sex tapes keep coming out.

EJ is still pushing Nicky’s agenda when he totally sells me out. “Carter had a poster of Hilary Idaho in his room!”

“My sister!” I bark. “That was Lynn’s poster, and she had it in the bathroom to work on her makeup techniques!”

I did love that poster, though, because Hilary Idaho was super cute wearing a private-school-girl outfit and leaning back on the teacher’s desk. Her belly button was exposed, and I would get lost in it for hours. But that was years ago, and she was not my favorite
Get Up Gang
member. I actually liked Zac-Michael Wienus (lead singer and youngest of the Wienus Bros), because he was the smart-ass on the show and he didn’t do all that silly mugging for the camera that all the Kidz Channel kids do. . . . But I’m not going to get into that with these people. He’s Hilary’s boyfriend, and his mug shot was just on the cover of
US Weekly
. He had this cool smirk on his face, like, “Whatever.”

“I’m not seeing some refried cheesefest about singing cheerleaders.”

Then Abby pipes up. “I guess
Cheer! The Musical
wouldn’t be so bad. I’ll probably have to teach some of the songs at drama camp, so . . .”

I shake my head and exhale my contempt when Abby kisses my bruised cheek and whispers, “We’ll double feature C. B. Down’s movie,
Genoa Eyes
, okay?”

I give her a wink, because I’ve been working on my winks, and ask the ticket girl for two student tickets and where they keep their crackers.

“What crackers?” she asks.

“The crackers I’m gonna need to stomach this cheesy movie.”

EJ busts up, but then looks at Nicky to see if it was funny or not. Turns out it wasn’t, so he stops laughing and shakes his head at me in disappointment.

Abby grabs my hand and asks, “Can I buy you some popcorn to cut the cheese?” A fart joke! How cool is she? (I may have farted during a movie last year, and it might have been so nasty that it caused her to barf.) I can’t even fake being pissed off at her. I squeeze her hand and say, “There won’t be any cheese cutting at this movie, and we’ll need the popcorn as a prop for the double feature.”

As soon as the lights go down, EJ and Nicky start making out. I’d make a move on Abby, but my face couldn’t handle it. She probably does want to watch this crap for the songs and stuff, so I shouldn’t just reach over and grab some boob . . . like EJ is doing before the opening credits! At a G-rated movie, he’s over there making porno grunting noises. I nudge him and tell him to “Shhh!” but it doesn’t do any good.