Struck by Lightning: The Carson Phillips Journal (11 page)

I just stared at him. I was totally impressed, but I wasn’t going to let him know that.

“Dude, you can’t blame me,” he said.

“Yeah, I can,” I said. “I can blame you
mucho
.” Luckily, I had one more yellow flyer left I had been planning on saving for a scrapbook. “This is for you,
si se puede
ophile.”

After school, Malerie and I pinned Emilio’s picture to the Clovergate board and put an
X
through it. Clovergate Day Four has been an unexpected success!

Yo soy un afortunado hijo de puta!
Which, according to Google translation, means:
I am one lucky son of a bitch!

10/19

CLOVERGATE DAY FIVE: THE MEETING

Today is the day: Make it or break it.

I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I kept tossing and turning with horrid visuals of how this meeting could go if it didn’t work out the way I wanted.

Anyone can have dirt on someone else, but how was I going to convince these people I had the means to use it against them? What if they all flat-out refused to cooperate? Would I actually expose the information I had on them? Would anyone else at school believe me? I’m not exactly Miss Congeniality.

I could start off by releasing one person’s info, to see if it spread. Would people be more eager to participate if they saw one of their friends’ lives ruined? Who would I use as the pawn? Was I capable of ruining someone’s life? If I did that, was I any better than them?

My work was cut out for me. I had to persuade everyone I had an influence over the student body while also convincing them I was heartless enough to
go public with their secrets—a very hard thing to do when you’re the only editor of a failed school newspaper.

All day at school I had horrible pains in my stomach and chest. I was so nervous that I was afraid of getting the runs for real.

My eyes were glued to the clock all day. Finally the last bell rang and school was out. It was time.

I went into the journalism classroom and tidied it up a bit while I waited. I was so excited to be having guests in my classroom. It had never had more than seven people in it before. I even considered running out to the store to get some hors d’oeuvres but reminded myself this wasn’t a party.

I made Malerie come to support me. She seemed more nervous than I was. She found a stool and perched in the corner of the room, watching everything through the side-screen of her camcorder.

It was starting to get late and the weekend was getting closer. It had been nearly an hour since school had ended, and not a single Clovergate victim had come.

Was no one taking me seriously? Was I even remotely threatening to them and their reputations?
Were they all together somewhere just laughing at my yellow flyers?

A few more minutes of worrying later, I realized I was giving my peers way too much credit. One by one, they all started moseying into the journalism classroom.

Vicki and Dwayne were the first to arrive.

“Well, well, well,” I said. “It’s about time.” I was reserved and played it cool; I don’t know where my calmness came from.

“Relax. We had detention,” Vicki said.

Detention!
All the victims had after-school activities; that’s why they were who they were. I’d forgotten.

Claire was the next to arrive. She took one look at Dwayne and Vicki and said, “Oh no.” The princess didn’t like being in the company of peasants.

Nicholas and Scott showed up next.
Really, Nick and Scott? You show up together to a meeting where you’re being blackmailed for being together?
But then again, I realized they’re
always
with each other. How has no one put A and B together before? Worst closet-couple ever!

Remy was next to show up and was petrified to see
the rest of the school council. The council members all gave each other cordial nods, but it was still awkward, like when you see people you go to church with at Hooters.

Coach Colin came next. He and Claire didn’t even make eye contact.
Smart
. (Take note, Nick and Scott! Now
that’s
how you shamefully hide a spoon-buddy!) Colin was the only one to notice the Clovergate board. I’d forgotten to take it down.

Everyone was quiet. They gave each other looks like,
You too?
I could tell the question
What are they here for?
was eating at them.

Emilio … I mean Henry … whoever he is … was last. Everyone looked at him and then back at me.
Even him?

I locked the door behind him and stood at the front of the classroom. My heart was practically jumping rope in my chest.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to the journalism classroom,” I said.

“You fascist!” Remy said.

“
¡Inodoro!
” Emilio said.

“Enough with the names!” I said. “Look, I’ll make
this short and sweet. You’re all here because I’ve got dirt on you.”

They all groaned and huffed like a pack of bloated coyotes.

“I
know
why I’m here, and I’m pretty sure we all know why
Dwayne’s
here,” Vicki said. “But why are the rest of you here?” She eyed Claire creepily.

“That’s for me to know, and the rest of you to never know, if all goes as planned,” I said.

“This is bullshit!” Nicholas said. “Not to mention illegal! Do you know how many lawyers my family has?
Seven
.”

The rest seemed to agree with him.

“
¡Enséñame los pompones!
” Emilio said.

I had just gotten them here. I couldn’t lose them yet.

“If any of you would like to
share
the information I have on you, please feel free to do so and leave the room,” I said. The room went dead silent. They all looked at one another, each quietly encouraging someone else to go first. Luckily for me, they were all too proud to do so.

“I didn’t think so,” I said.

“I’m late for
Hello, Dolly
rehearsal,” Scott said. “What do you want from us?”

“As you all know, I am starting a school literary magazine,” I said, cutting to the chase.

“You want us to buy your school literary magazine?!” Claire said in a mocking tone. It pissed me off. Did she really think I had gone to all this trouble just to
sell
them something? She was the idiot for having sex with a coach, not me!

“No, Claire,” I said. “I would never expect you to recognize an intelligent publication, let alone purchase one! But your friends and family? Yes! Why? Because you’re all going to be in it. I want a literary submission from each of you!”

It was out in the open, and they all moaned like the whiny bitches that they are.

“So that’s what this is all about?” Dwayne laughed.

“This is ridiculous,” Vicki said.

“
¡Tu aliento huele a animales de la granja!
” Emilio yelled.

“Wait, I’m not even a student here,” Colin said from the back.

“That’s because I want something more from you,” I said, and then pointed at Claire. “And you. I want a submission from every football player and cheerleader.”

The room erupted in complaints. They thought I was out of my mind on some kind of totalitarian power trip. And to be fair, I was.

“
You
can’t make me or my cheer team or anyone else do anything!” Claire yelled. She was so high-strung and high-pitched, I thought her head was gonna fly off her neck. “There’s a reason why you and
Precious
in the corner over there are the only members of your club, and it’s because everybody hates you. Even if you spread whatever
information
you have on us around school, no one is going to believe you, got it?!”

The others cheered her on and muttered their agreements. Scott did a solo round of applause. Remy nodded her head as though to the bass of a hip-hop track. Malerie kept looking behind her, trying to see where Precious was.

My posture started to slump. I’d been afraid this was going to happen. Their complaints got louder and
louder and I fell deeper into my own self-doubt. It was happening, my biggest fear: They were realizing they outnumbered me and I couldn’t beat them.

I could feel sweat forming on my forehead. They were all shaking their heads and rolling their eyes, mad that their Friday afternoon had been wasted. A few of them got up to leave the room…and that’s when I
snapped
.

A rush of adrenaline surged through me and I was no longer vulnerable Carson Phillips. I don’t know who the hell I was.

“
Sit down!
” I ordered. My voice was so sharp it scared them. They didn’t know what to do but follow my instructions. I had the floor, and I had it
good
. Years of stomaching their shit had led to this moment and I went
Dante’s Peak
on their asses.

“For years I have been poked and stabbed with your
bitchfork
, Claire!” I yelled with my whole body. I still don’t know where the words came from. “You have beaten me down to the bottom of the high school food chain with the
shitty end
of the stick for far too long! You don’t think they’re gonna believe me?
I will make them believe!
You don’t think the people at this school have
just been waiting for an excuse to turn against you?”

Everyone’s eyes grew to the size of whale testicles.

“Sure, they all hate me,” I went on. “But that’s because I’m the only person in town with an IQ larger than my shoe size and I don’t hesitate to remind people of that! So go ahead and play all the mind games you want to with me, sweetheart. I’m not accepting that invitation to intimidation any longer. I have nothing to lose and a whole hell of a lot to gain, and this time
none of you are stopping me
!”

All the color drained from their faces. They were paler than the front row of the Republican National Convention. I had them,
I finally had them!
But I continued this impromptu performance. I went behind my desk and grabbed the first stack of papers I could find.

“Need some examples? Here are some examples!” I said, and started throwing the paper at them. “Poetry, short stories, essays, scripts, novels,
anything
! Write anything as long as it’s in your words and in my hands ASAP!
Write about how much you hate me! Write in detail about how much you want to kill me!
Okay?
NOW GET THE HELL OUT OF MY CLASSROOM!
”

It’s hard to remember what happened next with all that juice in my veins, but I do know they scattered out of that room faster than mice in a cat shelter.

A few minutes later, the Hulk-like alter ego slowly faded away and I came to my senses. My heart was still racing and sweat was dripping down my back. There’s no way sex can feel better than how I felt at that moment.

“Malerie?” I asked in shock. “Did you
hear
me? Did you
see
me? That was incredible!
I did it!
”

There was no response.

“Malerie?” I said. I looked around the room, but I was alone. I’d even scared Malerie off; she had left with the others. Oh well.

I walked over to the Clovergate board and ripped off all the defaced pictures. I triumphantly wrote,
The Clover High Literary Magazine: Now Accepting Submissions
across it.

Northwestern, watch out: Next year Carson Phillips is coming…and he’s
fucking crazy
!

10/24

I had the best dream over the weekend. I was standing in an elevator. It traveled higher and higher. I wondered if it was ever gonna stop.

I was older, not sure by how much. Everything was slightly darker than usual because of the designer shades I was wearing. I looked down and saw that I was wearing a snazzy tailored suit.

The elevator doors opened, and I was at the
New Yorker
.

Everyone freaked out when they saw me. I was confused by it at first. I had just seen my clothes so I knew I wasn’t having a
naked-in-public
dream. I strode down a hall and all the employees cowered in fear as I passed. And then I understood it: They were afraid of me because I was their boss! I felt like Miranda Priestly in
The Devil Wears Prada
.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Phillips, we weren’t expecting you until noon,” said Remy. She was alarmed and wearing a headset; she was my
receptionist
. “Should I move up your meeting with President Maddow?”

I sighed deeply. “I said I would be here earlier than usual. How was that not clear? An editor should be able to come and go as he pleases without being exposed to incompetence,” I said.

I was
editor in chief
and I was an
asshole
. It was great!

“Mr. Phillips, here is your coffee, sir!” said Claire, running up to me with a steaming cup.

“Is this how I like it, Mathews?” I said, never making eye contact with her.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Fresh-ground Mongolian beans, with two teaspoons of Swiss cream, a cube of your favorite zero-calorie noncancerous sugar, and half a shot of Jack Daniel’s.”

“Thank you,” I said to Claire. I took a sip and then immediately splashed the rest in Remy’s face.

“I deserved that,” Remy said. “Also, sir, your mother’s home called. Apparently she’s woken up from her coma.”

I grunted. “Then tell them to up the dosage again. I’m paying them to keep her comatose,” I said. Then I burst through massive double doors leading to my office. Remy and Claire weren’t allowed to follow me in.

My office was as big as a small country. There were golden pillars and a grand piano.
I don’t even play piano!
The walls were covered in honorary doctorates and pictures of me looking bored with enthusiastic presidents and prime ministers and Madonna.

I had floor-to-ceiling windows with the most breathtaking view of New York City. I somehow could see the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, the Chrysler Building, Central Park, the East River, the Hudson River, Barbara Walters, and Times Square. I’m not completely knowledgeable about the geography of the city, but I’m pretty sure it was one of the only offices with a view like that.