The Cannibals

by Grant, Cynthia D.

  Poor Wally. What a nightmare this must be for him. He loves to watch TV.

  I noticed that on the cover of Little Tina’s book, there are the words “As Told To” and somebody’s name in tiny little letters you can barely read. I was thinking of asking Miss Jones to help me turn this video journal into a book, but then we’d have to split the profits, and besides, she never takes me seriously. When I told her my plan to turn this into a best-seller, she said, “That’s very interesting, Tiff. But shouldn’t you be working on your essay?” She’d made lots of little red marks on the pages so I could make improvements when I rewrote it.

  Like I’ve got the time! Besides, I want my writing to sound fresh and real, like this journal. Just me, talking. They could call it Talking With Tiff. Or Tiffany Talks. And put on the cover: “In Her Own Words,” with a really nice picture of me, and more inside. And the book will be full of my thoughts and feelings and be a real inspiration to all the teens who feel like “befores” in a world of makeovers.

  So maybe I should say something about my health and beauty regime.

  No matter how beautiful you already are, nothing is more important than the glow of good health. Do: Eat plenty of vegetables and fruit and protein. Take a daily multi-vitamin with minerals. Get plenty of sleep. And drink at least eight glasses of water a day. I know, that’s a lot! Sometimes I feel like I’m floating away!

  Don’t, and I mean don’t, drink alcohol. Think about it: That stuff literally poisons your brain!

  Do not smoke cigarettes. This can’t be emphasized enough. Smoking stinks up your breath, makes your face gray and wrinkly, and causes serious health problems too numerous to mention. In all honesty, I can truthfully say that I’d rather have a live frog in my mouth than a lit Camel.

  Do not get a tan. Too much sun not only can cause cancer, but it also makes people’s skin look like beef jerky.

  Do not, under any circumstances, take illegal drugs of any kind: uppers, downers, pot, the works. They screw up your brain and ruin your body. It’s like trying to run your car on Coke—the kind you drink—instead of gasoline. Your body is a temple; why treat it like a motel? Remember: Your body is where you’ll be living for the rest of your life!

  Last, but never least, Get plenty of exercise. Not only will you look great, you’ll feel great, too. Every day before school I: s-t-r-e-t-c-h (keep those muscles limber!), do five hundred jumping jacks, lift weights for upper body strength, and practice my cartwheels and splits, et cetera. Not to mention all the exercise I get leading cheers.

  It’s funny, in a way, how some people see cheerleaders, like we’re just a bunch of jockette bubble-heads. All of The Girls and I are on the Principal’s Honor Roll (I might be slipping a tiny bit lately) and will be going on to college. This prejudice is even worse if you’re a natural blonde like me, or even an unnatural blonde like Shelby.

  Which reminds me: I have got to get her more motivated. Lately, she just stands there during games like, “Yay, so what.” Does she want to be a cheerleader or not? Ashley yells her little heart out and Barbie and Kendall give it everything they’ve got. Which, unfortunately, is not quite enough. Don’t get me wrong, they’re great girls, but we’re not talking personality plus. And I always get the name wrong when I give them helpful hints, like, “Barbie, go all the way down on your splits.”

  “I’m not Barbie, I’m Kendall.”

  It’s irritating.

  But what makes our cheerleading squad so successful is that we put aside all our little differences and work together as a team. For example, when that fight broke out yesterday after Donny fumbled the ball on the twenty-yard line, The Girls and I started singing the National Anthem. Almost everybody stopped what they were doing and joined us, which gave the refs a chance to drag the nitwits off the field. It’s amazing how immature people can be. You just want to say, “Come on, you guys! Will you please try to act like adults?”

  Too bad some people think winning is so important. We won! Fourteen to seven!

  Chapter Twelve

  I can’t believe I’m saying this and I never thought I would, but Little Tina is not a very nice person.

  We were all so excited before she showed up on the set today to have publicity pictures taken. Everybody, except Campbell, was waiting outside the gym, including hundreds of junior high school kids waving Little Tina Fan Club signs.

  The tech crew made everybody stand behind barricades so they couldn’t get too close, except for Jason Wittington, who plays her boyfriend in the movie, and The Girls and I, who play her gang.

  For the record, I would like to state that Campbell is every bit as good-looking as Jason, whose skin, in real life, is not too great. Why Campbell refused to play the basketball captain, Jason’s best friend in the movie, I’ll never understand.

  Then the longest limousine I’ve ever seen pulled up and people started screaming and flipping out.

  “Here she is!” Mr. Goldman shouted, and he ran over and opened the door—and this tiny little person got out. I mean, I always knew Little Tina was small, but she’s practically—I hate to say it—a dwarf. She looks so much bigger on TV!

  She was wearing a cheerleading outfit just like ours and carrying red-and-black pompoms. But I couldn’t believe it: She was smoking a cigarette! In her book, it says she never smokes!

  Then a bunch of fans ran over and tried to touch her and somehow knocked the cigarette out of her mouth, and one of the pompoms caught on fire.

  Principal Brown rushed over and stomped it out and told Little Tina that Hiram Johnson High is a tobacco-free zone.

  “What makes you think it’s tobacco?” she snapped.

  So things weren’t off to a very smooth start. I agree that smoking is a very bad habit, but the least Principal Brown could’ve done was to welcome her to our campus. For heaven’s sake, she’s a star, not a student! It’s not like he can put her in detention!

  Unfortunately, the incident seemed to affect Little Tina’s mood, and she wouldn’t even look at me and The Girls when Ms. Stuart introduced us.

  Then she asked, “Which one is Jaycee?” which is the name of my character, the leader of the cheerleader gang. When Mr. Goldman pointed me out, she got this expression on her face, like I was a plate of dog food or something, and said, “No, her look isn’t right.”

  Excuse me, please? My look isn’t right? This was clearly a case of professional jealousy because, in all modesty, I’m just as beautiful as Little Tina, and at least six inches taller.

  To my horror, Mr. Goldman seemed to agree with Little Tina and started saying maybe Jaycee should be played by one of the other Girls, possibly Shelby! I thought for sure The Girls would say no, it’s got to be Tiffany. But it turned out that they all wanted the part, except for Ashley, who hates it when we argue, and got an instant migraine.

  Luckily, Ms. Stuart took my side and explained that Shelby was a little too porky—she put it more nicely—to play Jaycee, and the decision had been made and it was final. If Little Tina didn’t like it, Ms. Stuart said, she could talk to her agent. In the meantime, could we please get the damn pictures taken?

  But there’s one thing I’ve got to say for Little Tina: She is a true professional. She put aside her differences, wrapped her arms around us, and posed for all those pictures with a big smile on her face.

  It’s just kind of disillusioning. Little Tina seems so nice on TV! On her talk show she always gets tears in her eyes when somebody tells her a sad story.

  I know that a big star like her is under a lot of pressure, and the microscope of constant public scrutiny. But if it weren’t for us fans, she wouldn’t be anybody. When I’m famous, I’ll never be one of those stars who refuses to give autographs and complains that they can’t get any privacy. Come on, people! It’s called show business, not no-show business. If you want privacy, drive a cab or be a teacher!

  Speaking of teachers, while all of this was going on, my mother and a bunch of other teachers were picketing in front of the
school, carrying signs that said, “MAKE GRADES, NOT MOVIES,” “EDUCATION, NOT ENTERTAINMENT,” and “STUDENT BODIES, NOT DEAD BODIES.”

  It was really embarrassing.

  Mr. Goldman told me not to feel bad and explained that they were filming the picketing, which will be shown as funny “outtakes” at the end of the movie.

  You’d think the teachers would recognize that this is a great opportunity for us students, but it’s like they think we should be learning something every single second! One reason Principal Brown acted like such a butthead today is because the superintendent and the school board overruled him and decided to have minimum days while the camera crew is on campus. Most of the movie will be shot in a studio, so it’s not like our school will be “disrupted” forever. Why can’t he see that?

  The mood around the dinner table tonight was tense. What’s happened to my mother’s sense of humor? When I told her the picketing had been filmed for funny bloopers, I thought she was going to have a stroke.

  She said, “You really don’t get the point, do you, Tiffany?”

  What a joke. She’s the one who’s overreacting.

  But I decided to be mature and just smooth things over, so I told her the linguini was superb.

  Then my father tapped his glass with a spoon and said that he and my mother had important news.

  I almost choked. I was afraid he was going to say that they were having a baby! But it was much worse than that. He and my mother are planning to move.

  “Move?” I exclaimed. “You’ve got to be kidding! Where?”

  I thought that Retardo would be upset, too, but he just said, “Huh!” and kept shoveling in the food.

  “Yes,” my mother said. “We’ve decided to escape the rat race and move to the country.”

  I was stunned. “What country?”

  “The country,” my father said. “Somewhere up on the north coast, where the air is clean and the living is easy.”

  He and my mother actually smiled at each other and reached across the table and held hands!

  “We’ve always lived here! What’s wrong with this place?” I asked.

  “This used to be a lovely town,” my father admitted. “But it’s gotten so crowded and noisy.”

  “What do you mean, noisy?” I said.

  My mother complained that, no matter where she goes, she can always hear freeway traffic.

  “What are you talking about?” I demanded.

  “That sound,” my father said. “Don’t you hear it, Tiffy?”

  Well, sure, now that they’d mentioned it. But couldn’t they just pretend it was the ocean? I mean, here they were, ruining my entire life, and I hadn’t even gotten a vote!

  Sobs burst from my throat. “Well, I’m not going!” I cried. “You just don’t want me to be in the movie! But it’s not going to work! I’ll run away! I’ll stay with The Girls! I’ll live with Campbell! Retardo doesn’t have any friends—”

  “Tiffany!” barked my mother.

  “—so he doesn’t care, but how can you do this to me?”

  Reeling from this devastating blow, despair and panic overwhelmed me. We were more than halfway through senior year! There wasn’t time to go to a new school and get popular! Not to mention how this would affect my studies.

  I stopped pounding my head on the table so I could hear what my father was saying.

  He was explaining that I should calm down, that they wouldn’t be moving until after I’d graduated, in June. Anyway, he said, I’d soon be going off to college.

  I couldn’t believe it. They seemed so happy! As if they couldn’t wait for me to go!

  I was dying inside, but of course they didn’t notice: They were too busy planning their Tiffany-free future. Even my brother is glad they’re moving! That just shows what a moron he is!

  My parents said they’re going to buy a big house on the coast and turn it into—get this—a combination bed-and-breakfast inn/nursing home. As if the tourists won’t notice that half of the “guests” are ninety years old and in wheelchairs!

  “Won’t Grandpa be pleased?” my father said. “He loves the beach! And it’s time for the generations to come together. Old people are being marginalized and warehoused,” et cetera.

  I know he’s been under a terrible strain, coming up with all these cutting-edge inventions, not to mention managing the enormous volume of business that 1-800-YOR-MAMA generates. Let’s face it: Those calls are depressing. No wonder he’s cracking up.

  But my mother should know that this move is a terrible idea. For heaven’s sake, she’s a teacher, not a genius! You’d think she’d have more sense!

  Sadly, it appears that losing the battle against Scream Bloody Murder has pushed her right over the edge.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Campbell pulled out my chair so I could sit down, and my heart practically melted, right there in the restaurant. Wally never remembered to do stuff like that. Poor Wally. If he ever comes back, he’ll probably eat with his hands or try to order grilled ants.

  Naturally, Campbell ordered the vegetarian plate and I chose rack of baby lamb, although I wish they hadn’t put that word “baby” on the menu. You’d think I’d ordered a live toddler from the disappointed look Campbell gave me.

  But I didn’t say anything to spoil the moment. I wanted the evening to be perfect, a new beginning for Campbell and me.

  Maybe I’m only imagining things, but it feels like Campbell and I are drifting apart, like ships on a stormy sea. He’s in such an impossible mood lately—and he seems to be blaming me.

  Was it my fault that the swim team couldn’t practice today because the movie crew had to use the pool? How strong and sleek he looked in his wet Speedo when the assistant director made him get out.

  For Pete’s sake, the filming won’t last forever! It’s just taking a little longer than we expected, due to technical difficulties.

  First, Jason Wittington came down with that terrible cold sore on his lip, so they had to shoot—meaning film—around him. But it turned out he must’ve been contagious before it erupted because Little Tina got a big cold sore, too. The makeup crew tried to cover it up with pancake, but it looked like she had a poisonous yam under her nose!

  The writers worked the cold sore into the script, like it was some kind of cannibal vampire virus, but Little Tina said—Well, I won’t say what she said. I would never use words like that in my book.

  And then there were the problems with the school board scene.

  The real board, playing the school board in the movie, was supposed to be discussing whether to allow the filming of a “slasher” movie on the school grounds, kind of a movie-within-a-movie type of thing. The “AD”—assistant director—told the board members they could ad-lib their dialogue, meaning improvise, so it would sound spontaneous and natural.

  My part was the biggest. It was even written down. I was supposed to say all the stuff I’d actually said the night the school board approved the filming of SBM on campus.

  But the board members ruined everything! Every darn one of them tried to hog the whole scene, interrupting each other, making speeches, et cetera.

  They wouldn’t even let me talk!

  Then Principal Brown barged in, shouting that there was a gang fight outside, but everybody thought he was just trying to disrupt the filming again, until the SWAT team and the ambulance arrived.

  I had no idea that making a movie was so emotionally, as well as physically, draining.

  The plan now is to wrap up all the shooting during spring break, while everybody’s on vacation.

  I know that we have to get back to real life eventually, but I’ll sure be sad to see the movie crew go. It’s like we’re one big happy family!

  I think that’s the problem with Campbell and me. I’ve been so busy with the movie that I haven’t been giving him enough attention. Boys think the whole world revolves around them.

  I guess I thought Campbell was more mature.

  “Earth to Tif
f,” he was saying. “You’re not listening to me.”

  “Of course I am,” I replied as the waitress served our salads. “I was just thinking how handsome you look.”

  It was true. I could look at Campbell forever. And not just because he’s so good-looking, but because his face is so honest and strong. It’s a face you could trust with all of your secrets. If I had any secrets—which, to be honest, I don’t, but if I did—I wouldn’t hesitate to tell him.

  “I was asking if you’d heard from any of the colleges you’ve applied to,” he said.

  “Not yet.”

  “Me neither,” he said. “It’s too early, I guess.”

  I didn’t mention that things have been so hectic that I haven’t had a chance to complete the applications. Campbell would have a fit. He takes school so seriously! He’s almost as bad as Miss Jones. In class today, she was ranting and raving about this new toilet paper called Canned Classics, or Classics in the Can, that has great works of literature printed right on the rolls, famous old stuff like Moby Dick. You’d think she’d just be glad that people are reading!

  “How’s your salad, Tiff?” Campbell asked.

  “Yummy,” I answered.

  He started saying how much he wants to be a good doctor and promote healthy lifestyles, et cetera, but there was a bean sprout stuck in his front teeth and I kept wondering, should I tell him or not? Some people get offended when you tell them stuff like that, but personally, I would want to know if something green was hanging out of my mouth. Luckily, it disappeared while he was talking.

  One thing I’ve always been thankful for: My teeth are so perfect and straight. Ashley’s had her braces practically since she was born, and believe me, it’s hard to keep them clean. She always covers her mouth when she laughs. Could that be one reason she’s not eating?

  Sometimes I think I should become a psychiatrist and help people understand their problems.

  “… so I told him he doesn’t have to pay for my tuition. I’ll get a basketball scholarship and apply for loans.”