Inside the fridge, the vegetable bin is full, so I bury the bottle underneath the lettuce, zucchini, and carrots. Frank’s on my shoulders, bouncing in anticipation. I make him wait a few more minutes as I set up my cell on the tripod.
When I’m finally ready, I prop open the door of the refrigerator so Frank can have full access—and I can have light to film. He doesn’t wait for me to turn on the camera, just starts shoveling out the vegetables until he finds the bottle. I constantly try to get Frank to look into the camera but he’s pretty focused on finding his snack.
By the time he’s finished, the floor of the kitchen looks like a produce stand. Frank’s gotten ahold of the fake hot sauce and is guzzling it down and squirting it on the vegetables. I scoop all the veggies back into the bin so my parents won’t find out.
Before I put Frank back in his crate, I snap a picture of him holding the bottle of hot sauce and text it to Carly. She might still be angry with me, but she’s always had a soft spot for Frank.
My phone immediately dings with a new text.
It’s from Carly. A picture of you with hot sauce is NOT an apology.
I type back. That was Frank, not me. Besides I apologized WITHOUT hot sauce too.
I watch the three dots bouncing on the screen as she types her reply.
Come on, come on!
Are you sure? Looked more like you than Frank. Then the school emoji and a wave goodbye.
Yes! I am forgiven!
Cleaning up the kitchen after that is a breeze.
READY, SET, GO!
I can’t wait to show Mr. Ennis and the rest of the class my new video. Unfortunately, I’ve got a full day of school to get through before that.
There’s a test in social studies on Islam; I tried to study for it but spent too much time with hot sauce and ketchup instead. I know three out of the twenty questions and end up guessing the rest. Mr. Maroni tells us we’ll be starting the section on Buddhism next week—maybe I’ll have better luck with that religion.
When it’s finally time for Mr. Ennis’s class, Matt and I race down the hall until Ms. Cardoza in the media center gives us the evil eye. I almost slam into Carly, which is weird for a moment—are we still good?—until she hands me a stick of red licorice and tells me to stop clogging the halls. Yup, things are back to normal.
In the past week, Tyler made more than ten YTP videos—all of them wacky and ridiculous. He always kept a low profile so I’m kind of surprised his work is head and shoulders above everyone else’s. I guess all the time he’s spent watching YTP has paid off when it comes to making clips of his own.
Umberto’s video is also funny—but unpleasant to watch at the same time. In the clip, he’s at a restaurant on the Promenade with his brother, getting ready to have lunch. When the waitress comes over, she only talks to Eduardo, asking him what Umberto will have too.
I’ve been in those embarrassing situations with Umberto before—when people talk to Matt or me instead of Umberto as if he’s just his disability and not one of the smartest, funniest kids on the planet. It’s not that strangers should KNOW he is; they just should give him a chance. This time, Umberto kindly—but firmly—lets the waitress know that HE’LL be having the chicken tacos without the cabbage but with lots of sour cream. When the clip ends, Umberto gets even more applause than Tyler.
Throughout the class, I keep glancing over at Mr. Ennis, who looks as mischievous as I do before Brianna comes over to babysit. He’s got something up his sleeve but I can’t figure out what it is. (A pizza party after class would be AWESOME.)
As Mr. Ennis cues up Carly’s video, she leans over in her chair. “Don’t freak out,” she whispers.
Alarm bells go off in my head. “What am I going to freak out about? I don’t freak out.”
“Yes, you do!” Carly points to the screen where her video is starting.
I guess she’s still doing that tiresome show about her braces because she’s sitting in her room talking on webcam again.
“Talk about bad timing,” on-screen Carly begins. “I got my braces the week before class picture day! I felt ridiculous! Should I smile with my teeth and flaunt my braces? Or smile with my mouth closed which feels totally unnatural?” She then runs through several kinds of smiles for the camera—some of them are funny, some are cute, and a few are downright scary.
When I look over at Matt to see what he thinks, he’s staring at me and making a cut-your-throat motion with his hand. I mouth, “What?” since I have no idea what he’s talking about. He just shakes his head and looks back at the screen.
“So I’ve got swollen gums, I feel ugly, and the photographer is mean—and as if THAT’S not enough—two of my best friends start making fun of me while we’re in line! You heard me—two of my best friends!”
I look around the room, hoping everyone doesn’t know who she’s talking about, but pretty much everyone does and is staring at Matt and me. Carly just shrugs as if she’s not the one who made the video.
Throwing herself on her bed and pretending to cry must be a running gag on Carly’s channel because she does it again now. At the end of the class, she gets as much applause as Umberto and Tyler.
“Well,” Mr. Ennis says. “Any comments?”
I don’t even bother raising my hand. “You said we were fine,” I tell Carly. “Why’d you have to make that video?”
Carly looks at me with an expression that’s not mad, just
