“There’s one stipulation,” Umberto tells Matt and me on our way to class. “You guys have GOT to stop talking about Mr. Ennis.”
Umberto’s right—Matt and I haven’t shut up about our new teacher. We can’t help it—we’re on fire with new ideas.
Back in class, I’m a little freaked out by Ms. McCoddle’s sunburn. I guess she went snowboarding at Big Bear this weekend so her face is red but the area around her eyes is white from wearing goggles. She keeps taking lotion from her purse to apply to her skin. Just looking at her makes me itchy.
When Matt and I had Ms. McCoddle in kindergarten, we’d spend the first hour talking about what we did the night before. Now we barely sit down before Ms. McCoddle tells us to open our history books. “Today we begin the Industrial Revolution,” Ms. McCoddle says.
It’s cool hearing about one interesting invention after another, but my mind keeps drifting back to YouTube. What kind of screen name should we have? Will we get a lot of subscribers? What if we don’t get any views?
Talking at lunch earlier, Carly didn’t have to say it, but I knew what she was thinking. Is this just another one of Derek’s crazy ideas or will he have the follow-through to make it happen this time? I can’t say I blame her; it’s something I wonder about too.
But as I half-listen to Ms. McCoddle discuss the assembly line, I get an idea. What if we ASSEMBLE something on our YouTube show? Not like a desk from IKEA but things that don’t usually go together—like ham and marshmallows or chicken soup and Jell-O? Maybe Umberto’s right and we should do a challenge channel.
Ms. McCoddle smiles when she finishes talking about Eli Whitney and interchangeable parts. “Derek, you’re grinning from ear to ear—is all this talk of innovation making you happy?”
I mumble something about Eli Whitney being one of my favorite inventors of all time, but even as the words leave my mouth, all I can think about is making videos with my friends.
EXPERIMENT #1
Matt and Umberto don’t need any convincing to come over after school to discuss our show. Carly’s got an orthodontist appointment so she can’t join us. That’s actually good; we’ll be able to get all our bad ideas out of the way while she’s not here. Because Carly’s worried that she’ll have to get braces, I reassure her that everything will be fine, although I have absolutely no idea if she’ll need them or not. Matt tortures her by finding a website of people with terrible, gigantic braces, which almost makes Carly cry. In the end Matt feels bad, but not bad enough to refrain from sending a few of the pictures to her on Snapchat.
“Here’s what I think we do,” Matt says. He points to all the bottles and jars we’ve taken out of my refrigerator, now spread along the kitchen counter. “Let’s find three of the most disgusting ingredients, mix them in the blender, then make ourselves drink it on camera.”
“I still say eating handfuls of cinnamon and black pepper would be awesome.” Umberto uses the deep voice he uses whenever he pretends he’s an announcer at a monster-truck rally. “Master sneeze blast!”
I rub my hands together. “Time to mix up something vile.”
I take the cover off the blender and start dumping stuff in. Apple juice, maple syrup, canned clam chowder, a bagel, lettuce, and some blue cheese.
The three of us stare into the blender, looking down at the kaleidoscope of colors before turning it on. I take glasses out of the cabinet and divide the brownish mixture three ways.
“Whose idea was this, anyway?” Umberto asks.
“We should do this near the bathroom in case we have to puke,” Matt adds.
We hold up our glasses in a mock toast then each take a sip before we gag. Only Matt finishes the drink and is declared the winner.
“I’m not sure if it’s possible, but I think the bagel actually made it worse,” I say.
“Not to mention the blue cheese,” Matt adds with a belch.
“Um … Derek?” Umberto gestures to my phone set up on my dad’s tripod. “Did you hit ‘record’?”
We all look at the phone just sitting there.
“We’re the worst youtubers ever,” Matt says.
“So … take two?” I shrug as if this was all part of the original plan.
We obviously have a lot of work to do.
BUSTED
Matt, Umberto, and I spend more time disagreeing than agreeing on what to shoot, so I’m not surprised that we don’t have anything even close to usable when I go through the footage. It might be easier to do a few practice runs on my own. Mom’s Derek-might-be-getting-into-trouble antennae must alert her, however, because ten minutes after my friends leave she enters the kitchen.
She’s wearing her scrubs with the Weimaraner pattern and looking at the counter full of jars and bottles.
“I hate to ask, but feel I should,” she begins.
I tell her my friends and I were trying to come up with an idea for a YouTube show. Mom can’t take her eyes off the mess.
“I’m surprised Carly was in on this,” Mom says.
I could tell her Carly wasn’t here, but since my mother thinks Carly walks on water, I decide to leave out this piece of information.
Mom points to the phone perched on the tripod. “Were you recording this for posterity?”
I’m not really sure what that means, but it doesn’t matter because we didn’t record much of anything. I tell her what we were attempting to do but with no success.
She opens the fridge and tilts her head. After a moment, I realize she’s waiting for me to start putting the food away.
“I think
