by Chad Morris
The rest of the day I noticed that hardly anyone talked to Cassie. They didn’t want to tell her jokes or hear her opinion. She had lost a lot of friends.
I kind of liked it.
But I also kind of didn’t.
In my deepest-down part of me, I didn’t.
“Thirty seconds until we all blow up into teeny tiny pieces!” I yelled, looking down at my watch. If we didn’t make it, the entire planet and its three inhabited moons would be destroyed when the star exploded. A supernova would probably look amazing, but we wouldn’t be around long enough to appreciate it. Thankfully we had the technology to know when the star would explode and a stabilizer to keep it from blasting apart in the first place.
“We’ve got this,” Devin said. Oh, I mean, Special Agent Vin said into his headset. He raced his space bike through the black sky and stars at superspeed, the stabilizer in his hand. But the robots of Dr. E. Vil were on his tail. Their space bikes were red, with black skulls on them.
Okay. We weren’t really in space; we were on the school lawn playing a game I’d made up: Supernova, or Don’t Let the Star Explode in Your Face. I hadn’t quite decided on an official name yet. One team started with the ball, which was the stabilizer, and tried to get it to the tree at the far end of the field—that was the star about to explode. They only had two minutes, and each player on the team could only take three steps with the ball before they had to pass it. If they couldn’t get the ball to the tree in two minutes, or if the other team stole the stabilizer, the other team won.
And the fact that some of the boys were playing with us instead of playing basketball was pretty awesome. The boys had never played with us before. Maybe it was because I invited them and they wanted to be nice to the kid who’d had brain surgery, or maybe my games were actually fun. Maybe it was a little bit of both.
An evil robot veered in front of Vin, cutting him off. Vin turned his thrusters in the other direction and veered to the side. “Catch,” Vin yelled into his communicator and hurled the stabilizer through the black.
Cesar—code name Sar—snagged it as he shot by in a jet pack. Seriously awesome. It was quite the pass and catch, but the evil robots weren’t backing down. They fired their lasers, chucked their detonators, and flew in pursuit with their matching gear.
We didn’t have much time.
Eleven seconds until the star exploded.
Ten.
Nine.
Sar tossed the stabilizer to Exi, who threw it to Yas. Then it went back to Vin. With each tick, the star came closer to sending us to our annihilation.
Seven.
Six.
Back to Exi, then Vin. I held my breath. Vin was only feet away, but the evil robots were hot on his trail, and one big robot stood in front.
Three.
Two.
Vin faked one way on his space bike, then turned the other way, his thrusters sparking and cracking with the power of the change of direction. He almost lost his balance and fell off into space.
One.
Vin slammed the stabilizer into the star just as it was about to explode. Tremors quaked through the glowing rock with the terrible force, but then they shuddered down to nothing.
“Saved,” I yelled, jumping up and down. “But it was super close.”
Devin’s team cheered. Yasmin and Lexi gave each other high fives. Devin and Cesar bounced their chests against each other.
I wasn’t going to be doing any bouncing just yet. I didn’t feel up to it. In fact, I hadn’t really played. I was the timer and the first person to throw in the ball. On the bright side, though, I had been feeling good enough to go to school twice this week for the full day. And my game was a success.
“Can I play?” I turned to see a half smile and curly brown hair.
Hannah. She rocked back on her heels while she waited for an answer.
“Sure,” I said, having no idea why Hannah had finally left Cassie and wanted to play with us.
Hannah exhaled long.
“Do you want to be one of the good guys trying to keep the star from exploding or one of the bad robots who wants it to explode?” I asked.
“A good guy, for sure,” Hannah said. I explained the game and yelled at everyone that Hannah was going to play. Someone said that now the teams wouldn’t be fair, but I insisted. It was my game, and anyone who wanted to play got to play. I was tired of people being left out.
“Okay,” I yelled, “the star is going to explode in two minutes. Go!” I tossed the ball to a fifth-grade boy who was ready for it. Devin, Cesar, Lexi, and Yasmin were all evil robots now trying to stop the good guys.
I looked over at the playground. If Hannah was here, where was . . . There. In her frilly shirt, sitting under a pine tree. I wasn’t sure from this distance, but I thought Cassie was crying. All alone and crying. I don’t know what she said or did to Hannah, but now Cassie had lost her final follower. Now she was the one all alone.
I glanced down at my watch. “One minute,” I yelled at everyone playing.
Cassie was finally getting what she deserved.
But I kind of wished she would just come over and apologize. Plus, I would forgive her. I think something about having to go through a scary surgery and knowing I could die made me not want to hold a grudge. Life seemed too good for that. There were more important things. Plus, I think everyone else would forgive Cassie too. Well, eventually.
But Cassie probably wouldn’t apologize.
She sat under the pine tree and cried for the rest of recess.
“Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,” Devin said, his lips moving under an awesome green mustache.
Yep. This was really happening.
“O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,” I said, waving my finger a little sassily. It’s easier to pretend to be sassy when you’re super happy. “That monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.” Basically Romeo was trying to swear by the moon that he loved me, but I was saying that I thought the moon changed too much to swear by. Juliet was pretty clever, like me.
I would never claim I knew what love was. I mean, I’m twelve. But as far as I could tell, I was in love right now. Deep in love. I didn’t know if it would change like the moon, but right now I didn’t care. I wasn’t in love with Romeo or Devin. I was in love with performing. I actually stood on a stage, doing what I had hoped so bad to be able to do hour after hour while I was lying in bed with dinosaurs or rhinos sitting on my head.
This was real, not just my imagination. I was wearing a beautiful light-blue dress in front of the whole school. And I was wearing a matching blue mustache. There were still giggles through the audience.
Mrs. Baer had arranged for me to be able to do a special performance. It was just for me. To make sure I got to do the part I really wanted even though I had been sick. Mrs. Baer had such a super teacher heart.
We continued our lines, and the audience seemed to like it. Well, as much as they could understand. It was Shakespeare, after all.
As we finished the first scene, everyone clapped for us. I heard my dad call out and my mom whistle. They had said they wouldn’t miss the play for anything. My dad was even filming the whole thing on his camera.
Before the last scene, Mrs. Baer came out and explained, “At the end of the play, Juliet takes some medicine that makes her seem dead. And Romeo thinks she is dead.”
I quickly lay down and crossed my hands over my chest. That was the death pose I’d seen in the movies. Oh, and I closed my eyes. Otherwise, I would be a pretty terrible pretend dead person. But I wanted to see what was going on so badly, I cracked them open just a little.
My heart beat fast. I knew what was coming.
Devin looked down at me, pretending to discover my dead body. “O my love! My wife!” Yeah, we got married sometime earlier in the p
lay. Not me and Devin, but Romeo and Juliet. I’m way too young to be married.
“Death,” Devin continued, “that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.”
He was basically saying I still looked pretty even though I was dead. I hoped someone had told Shakespeare that was really sweet and sad—and weird. I closed my eyes all the way as Devin finished his speech. When he stopped talking, I peeked again.
He pulled out a bottle with a skull and crossbones on it. Definitely the poison. He drank it. After he pretended to swallow the deadly stuff, he clutched his throat and then fell on his knees. He made gurgling noises for a minute and then toppled forward onto his face. It was an awesome death scene.
And then he just lay there, pretending to be dead.
My turn.
I sat up, coming back to life and brushing off my beautiful dress. After taking in a deep breath, I looked down at Romeo. I tried to wake him, but when he didn’t respond, I shook him, pretending not to know he was dead. I think I did a pretty good job of acting desperate and scared. I put my hand to my forehead to really sell it. Then I found the poison bottle in his hand. “What’s here? A cup, closed in my true love’s hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.”
I pretended to cry. With all the real crying I had been doing over the last month or so, I was pretty well prepared for this part.
But all of a sudden, it wasn’t pretend. Real tears came out. I think maybe I had thought too much about death and stuff, and the thought of someone I cared about being dead just made the real tears come. The audience got all quiet.
I wiped my eyes on my fancy dress.
I wasn’t sure, but maybe there was a tear in the corner of Devin’s eye too.
I knew what Shakespeare thought I was supposed to do next—lose all my hope then find the dagger and kill myself. But I had already decided I wouldn’t. I didn’t care how sad someone got or how hard life became, I didn’t think anyone should ever give up.
We had a plan. The Maddie-and-Devin Ending.
“I will not have thee dying on me,” I said. “Especially since you’re my friend. Forsooth, we needeth a better ending.” The crowd stirred. I’m pretty sure they realized I had changed my lines.
Devin tried not to smile.
I reached into the sash of my dress where I had stashed a green glass bottle. I think it used to hold lemon juice. “Thiseth here is the antidote for your poison.” I flipped the bottle around. I had written the word antidote as big as I could on the paper I’d taped to the front. “I brought it just in case you were dumbeth enough to drink poison.” A few people in the crowd laughed. I liked that. I put the bottle to Devin’s lips.
“Come on back to life, my noble Romeo,” I said. “My friend,” I added quietly.
And he did. He took a deep breath and sat up. He probably came back to life a little too fast, but it was still kind of awesome. I pretended to look surprised and then wrapped my arms around him. It took a second, but then he hugged me back.
I stood, and Devin followed. “And they lived happilieth ever aftereth,” I said. “And their parents figured out how to quit fighting like bratty children.”
Devin looked at me, and I twisted my mustache.
He twisted his, too, and we high-fived. It didn’t feel Shakespearey at all, but I loved it.
Then I pointed offstage, and Lexi hit play on her phone. Some fast dancing music blared out. Yeah, we got permission from Mrs. Baer for that too.
Before I knew it, I was roboting in front of everybody. I just couldn’t stop myself. It took Devin a few seconds before he jumped in. He was a little halfhearted at first, but when the crowd cheered, he did a few twisty, almost-break-dancing moves.
Yep. Completely in love with performing.
While doing my happy shakey-shakey, I looked out at my mom and dad. My dad was still filming us and then he scanned the clapping crowd too. So many people were smiling and applauding.
But not everyone.
Not Cassie.
I saw her with her arms folded. I slowed my dancing. She probably didn’t like our play for lots of reasons: the mustaches, the changed ending, and the fact she wasn’t Juliet.
“You did a great job,” Devin said, putting his arm around my shoulder and squeezing. That pretty much stopped the dancing altogether. Then he let go super quick.
“You, too,” I said and gave him a light push.
And then someone else was there giving me compliments. And someone else. A few people later, my mom walked up, and I gave her a full-on hug. I used to care if others in my school saw me do that, but I didn’t care anymore.
“That was an amazing performance,” my dad said, still filming. “You just won the award for the best actress with a mustache.”
I put my hand to my chest and pretended I was receiving a trophy. “I’d like to thank all the little people who made my success happen.” I pointed to Max holding my mom’s leg.
“I am little people,” he said, grinning wide.
Then I pointed at my dad and mom. “And all the big people.”
“That’s right,” Dad said and gave me a side squeeze while still filming.
I thought I might watch this video over and over again.
His hug made my head turn a little, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Cassie looking at me again. It was different this time. Not a glare. Not looking down on me. And she didn’t seem to be thinking about how she could get me to do what she wanted.
Different.
“Great job,” Lexi said, appearing right in front of me. She gave me a hug. Yasmin was right behind her and joined in. We were an awkward three-person hug-blob, and they had blocked my view of Cassie. I tried to soak in the fun and love and forget that look.
But I couldn’t.
Even after all the great attention I got, for the rest of the day, I couldn’t stop thinking about that look.
I rolled over in bed, trying to fall asleep. I adjusted my pillow and scrunched the blanket between my knees, trying to let my mind wander. Let it help me fall asleep.
I gasped as the evil prince pulled back his bow, the arrow pointed at my heart. All I had to defend myself were my wits, my pretty face, and a small dagger.
“You tried,” the prince said. “You tried to expose my plot and take back the kingdom for the rightful heirs. You tried to avenge your father. But you have failed.” He was handsome, with long dark hair and a full beard. Handsome, but evil.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t get all dramatic,” I said with a wink. With my open eye, I carefully watched his fingers holding the arrow against the taut bowstring. I wanted to add something about him being a disgrace to his mustache and how, if I ever got out of this alive, I’d make him shave it off. But that wasn’t in the script.
“Try this for dramatic,” he said and let go of the arrow.
No more time for thinking. I leaped to the side, pretending to feel the feathers on the arrow brush against my cheek while I made a hilarious “that was too close for comfort” face. It would be an awesome slow-motion shot, with the arrow added in by computers later. The real shot didn’t even come close. Oswald, the British guy playing the prince, shot it at least eight feet to my left. We couldn’t have any accidents on the set.
Like a ninja, I tossed my dagger at the prince even as I was still falling to the side. Of course it would hit the prince in the heart. Well, they would add the fake dagger sticking out of his chest with makeup in a moment, and I would get to give my revenge speech. They were some of my favorite lines in the whole movie.
“Cut!” the director yelled. “Beautiful, you two. Oswald, well done. Maddie, you’re brilliant, funny, beautiful—the works.”
“Thank you,” I said, not even blushing as I got up off the mattress that had been just out of sight. I did this sort of thing all the time.
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br /> “Oh, Maddie!” One of the director’s assistants with a clipboard came running in. “You were just nominated for the best comedic actress in the universe for your last role. Congratulations.” Everyone on set burst into applause.
“Thank you,” I said as I brushed myself off. It wasn’t the first time I had been nominated, or even won, but I blushed anyway. I thanked them over and over again as I prepared for my next scene.
And to think that my acting career had all started when I played Juliet in the sixth grade. I had framed the first mustache I’d ever acted in and auctioned it off for thirty-five bazillion dollars for charity.
I smiled as I rolled over in bed again. At least this time I couldn’t go to sleep because I was so happy.
I relived performing in front of my school again in my mind. It had really happened. And it had really gone so well, even the changed ending. And so many people had told me I had done a great job.
But that look . . .
Cassie’s look kept coming back to me. No matter how many times I imagined movies and awards, I thought about that look. It was the one imperfection in the whole day. And I couldn’t figure it out. I was expecting jealousy, but that wasn’t it. At least not the same kind of jealousy I’d seen from her before. If she was jealous, it was a really sad-jealous. I felt like I was trying to put together a puzzle without the box to show me the final picture.
Had she looked at me like that when I was performing? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t think so. It was only when I was being congratulated by my mom and . . . dad.
Her dad.
So, sad-jealous?
Was that it?
Maybe her dad hadn’t come to see Cassie be Juliet, and maybe he didn’t film her or pretend she earned a trophy. Her parents were getting a divorce—or had gotten a divorce—and she said he hadn’t been around. And maybe that hurt. A lot.