The Cannibals (10 page)

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 Tiff,” 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.”

Apparently Campbell was discussing his father again, and their disagreement over the tobacco company stocks. It's wonderful that Campbell has so many principles, but sometimes people take things to extremes. For example, my mother thinks it's
disgusting
that in
SBM
we're doing what's called “product placement.” That means a company pays the movie company money to have the characters eat a certain brand of potato chips, in this case, Lay's; or cereal, Frosted Flakes; or to drink a certain beverage, in this case, Coca-Cola.

“It's like everything's an ad for something else!” she said this morning. “I mean, look at you, in your Nike shoes and your Guess jeans and your
Scream Bloody Murder
T-shirt!”

I tried to explain to her that everybody does it: in movies, TV shows, professional sports, et cetera. She snapped, “That doesn't make it right.”

“No,” I said, “but it doesn't make it wrong.”

Sometimes you just can't reason with her.

Personally, it doesn't bother me at all; you just have to hold the Coke can so the logo shows. Unfortunately, Shelby can't seem to grasp this difficult concept. We've had to do take after take after
take
because she keeps turning her can the wrong way or holding the bag of potato chips upside down.

It's been grueling.

“Don't you think so, Tiff?” Campbell asked.

“Absolutely.”

In the “Boyfriend Beat” column of
Teen Scene
magazine, they always advise: “When in doubt, agree.” And, generally speaking, I
do
agree with Campbell, but he always wants to talk about injustice and problems, while I prefer to look on the bright side of life. For heaven's sake, we're kids! We've got our whole lives to be miserable! How am I supposed to enjoy my dinner if he keeps talking about pollution and lung disease?

“By the way,” I said, tactfully changing the subject. “Are you going to buy a videophone?”

“No, I'm not,” he answered stubbornly. “I've already told you a million times.”

He
insists
on using the old-fashioned type, where you can't even see who you're talking to. Sometimes that's okay, like when my father has to change his voice to take the 1-800-YOR-MAMA calls. It would be too confusing if the people saw him. But there's no excuse for Campbell not to get a videophone. He'd even look good in the bathroom!

I said, “Don't you want to see me when we're talking?”

“Not really. I don't forget what you look like,” he said.

“But then we'd be in total communication,” I explained.

Which, of course, started him having a big fit about privacy and technology, et cetera, et cetera. What an old fuddy-duddy he can be! He never wears the cell phone I gave him for his birthday. He's not even hooked up to the Internet!

“I'm glad we're finally spending some time together,” Campbell said. “I feel like I've hardly seen you lately, with this dumb movie going on.”

“I wish you wouldn't call it dumb,” I said.

“Tiff, please,” he said. “I couldn't believe that stupid scene in the library where the freshman got eaten. And now they've dumped all that blood in the pool.”

“
Fake
blood,” I pointed out. “It's not like they slaughtered a whale in there or something.”

An important point, but I was sorry I'd brought it up right then because the waitress had brought our dinners and Campbell was staring at my plate like someone had
tortured
my baby lamb. Why did they have to use that word “rack” on the menu?