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Hey, are you nervous about tonight? Our big debut? I know I am!
To tell you the truth, I haven’t really had a chance to think about it.
Really? Oh my gosh—you still haven’t heard from Michael?
No.
Probably because he’s going to surprise you with a big bouquet of roses after the performance tonight!
I wish I lived in Tinaland.
Wednesday, March 10, Lunch
I walked into the caf, and there she was. At the booth she set up, underneath all these signs she made, advertising today’s sale of the first issue of the school’s new literary ’zine.
I knew I had to be, you know. Nice about it. On account of Lilly’s home life being unsatisfactory. Or going to become that way, anyway, even if she didn’t quite know it yet.
So I went up to her and was like, “One copy, please.”
And Lilly went, all businesslike, “That will be five dollars.”
I totally couldn’t help myself. I was like, “FIVE DOLLARS??? ARE YOU KIDDING????”
And Lilly went, “Well, it’s not cheap putting out a magazine, you know. And you were the one harping about how we have to make back the money we blew on the recycling bins.”
I coughed up the five bucks. But I had my doubts it would be worth it.
It wasn’t. Besides my story, and Kenny’s dwarf thesis, there were a couple of mangas, one of J.P.’s poems, and…
…all five of the short stories Lilly wrote for the Sixteen magazine contest. Five. She put FIVE of her own short stories in her magazine!
I could hardly believe it. I mean, I know Lilly thinks pretty highly of herself, but—
It was right then that Principal Gupta walked in. She NEVER comes into the cafeteria. Rumor has it once she stepped on a Tater Tot someone dropped and it grossed her out so much, she would never set foot in the caf again.
But today she crossed the caf, and, heedless of any Tater Tots that might have been underfoot, went right up to Lilly’s booth!
“Uh-oh,” Ling Su, next to me, said. “Looks like someone’s busted.”
“Maybe Gupta objects to the cover illustration,” Boris suggested.
“Um, I think it’s more likely she’s objecting to this story Lilly wrote,” Tina said, holding up her copy. “Did you guys READ this? It’s totally NC-17!”
I hadn’t actually read any of Lilly’s stories. She’d just told me about them. But even a rudimentary scan through them showed me that—
Oh, yes. Lilly was very, very busted.
And all copies of Fat Louie’s Pink Butthole were being confiscated by Coach Wheeton, who had brought a large black trash bag for that purpose.
“This is a violation of our right to free speech!” Lilly was shouting, as Principal Gupta escorted her from the caf. “People, don’t just sit there! Get up and protest! Don’t let the man keep you down!”
But everyone just sat where they were, chewing. Students at AEHS are totally used to letting the man keep us down.
When Coach Wheeton, spying the copy of Lilly’s magazine in my hands, came up to me with his trash bag and went, “Sorry, Mia. We’ll see that you get your money back,” I dropped it in.
Because what else could I do?
J.P. and I just looked at each other.
