The Cannibals (12 page)

In fact, they actually made me stand in a
ditch
so Little Tina would look taller!

I wish I could talk to Campbell about all this, but I know he'd say, “I told you so!” He even thinks Larry's death is funny!

I said, “I can't believe you'd say that, Campbell. I thought you were a vegetarian and
against
capital punishment.”

“Yes, except for talk-show hosts,” he replied.

Has the whole world gone
insane
?

Usually I'm not a superstitious person, but it seems like Larry's ghost is haunting the movie.
Nothing
is going right.

Today we were supposed to shoot the locker room scene, where The Girls and I change into our cheerleader uniforms just before the big game against our arch rivals.

The next thing you know, there's Principal Brown—doesn't he have a
job
anymore?—making a big scene about us being in our underwear, and saying that wasn't in the script he approved.

The AD admitted that a few changes had been made, but per their agreement, there would be no nudity on campus, and that underwear's the same as bathing suits.

“No, it isn't!” Principal Brown insisted, and he had a big old honking
fit
until they rewrote the scene to have us horsing around in the pool in our swimsuits, then being in such a hurry to get dressed that we put our uniforms on
over
our wet bikinis! It didn't make any sense!

But the AD seemed very happy with the pool scene, although I hadn't realized that the water was so
red
. I thought it might be better if I didn't get in, just sat on the diving board and waved et cetera, but the makeup man assured me that the water wouldn't stain my hair. Which, unfortunately, wasn't true, but it finally rinsed out. That's
all
I need—a blood-colored head!

The other bad thing that happened is that Ashley has dropped out of the movie.

I should've seen it coming; she's been acting so strange. But the other day it all came to a head. In scene after scene, she could
not
get her lines right. Then we were filming some funny outtakes and Ashley was supposed to “fluff” her lines; in other words, make mistakes on purpose. But she couldn't! Time after time, she kept getting them
right
! The AD's AD totally blew up at her, and she collapsed in tears and had to be carried off the set.

Nothing bothers Shelby, even when it should, and Barbie and Kendall are so easygoing. But Ashley is supersensitive to stuff, and the excitement of the movie has taken its toll. She isn't even coming to school anymore; she's on independent study. Her doctor says that what she has is like the
opposite
of claustrophobia. She's gone into her bedroom closet and won't come out

In the meantime, the show must go on. So they cast, of
all
people, Mimi Durning, who'd just—what a nut—
completely shaved her head
, in some kind of protest against fur or leather shoes or something. She handed out these stupid little pamphlets on the set, and she didn't even spell “America” right; she spelled it with a “K.” What an idiot!

Then, as if things weren't bad enough, the AD got the
brilliant
idea that it would be a great effect if
all
of the cannibal vampire cheerleaders shaved their heads and burned their hair in the bonfire at the big game rally!

As you know by now, I take my career very seriously, but I spoke for all of The Girls when I said that shaving my head was absolutely
out
of the question. So instead they put Mimi in an Ashley-type wig and said that nobody will notice the difference.

I realize that it's necessary to make sacrifices for my career, but it's like my hair is part of me, and I'm proud that I stood up for my beliefs. But now I'm worried that I might get a reputation for being “difficult,” which could negatively impact my future success.

I wish I could discuss my fears with Campbell, but he practically splits his sides laughing when I tell him what's happening behind the scenes.

And my mother and I seldom talk these days.

This morning she said, “Tiffany, I feel like I hardly know you anymore. If somebody came up behind me with a garrote, I think you'd just stand there.”

“I don't know,” I said. “What's a garrote?”

She wouldn't even tell me! She thought I was being sarcastic!

Can't she see that
she's
the one who's changed, not me? I feel like I could wake up some night and find her driving a wooden stake into my heart!

It seems like my mother is blurring the lines between the movie and reality.

Chapter Fifteen

My life has exploded like a shimmering balloon in the hands of an evil child; my hopes and dreams shattered on the rocks of reality. I've been crying so hard my eyes are puffed shut. I could barely see to turn on the videocamera just now.

But there's no use putting it off any longer.

Scream Bloody Murder
has been canceled.

Even as I hear myself saying those words, I still cannot believe that it's true.

But it is—and my life has become a nightmare from which I cannot wake up.

I heard the rumors when I got to school this morning.

“Did you hear the news?” everybody asked me. “The movie's been canceled!”

At first I thought they were talking about
Bobby Becomes a Man
, the hygiene movie they show to the freshmen, which a group of concerned parents has been trying to ban.

“No!” everyone said. “
Scream Bloody Murder
! They're not going to finish it! It's canceled!”

Not being a person to jump to conclusions, I assumed that there must be some logical explanation. Perhaps all of the filming had been completed ahead of schedule.

But we hadn't even shot the muddy-football-field scene yet, where The Girls and I wrestle the rival team's cheerleaders.

None of it made any sense. My heart began to hammer in my chest.

Fighting a rising tide of panic, I went directly to Principal Brown's office. At first he wouldn't even
look
at me, but I just stood there, glaring, until he got off the phone.

“Tiffany,” he sighed. “Can I help you?”

“Is it true?” I demanded. “Has
Scream Bloody Murder
been canceled?”

Then he uttered the word that will forever be branded in my memory.

“Yes.”

I burst into tears. “How could you
do
that?”

I accused him of trying to
ruin
our school spirit, pointing out that he'd done everything in his power to stop and then undermine the movie, which would've put Hiram Johnson and our town on the map. “How could one man,” I asked, “be so heartless, so
selfish
?”

Wracked with sobs, I paused to catch my breath.

Principal Brown stated that it wasn't his fault. He explained that there was a “conflict of interest” between the Pepsi company, which had supplied the boys' football uniforms and owned the vending machine concession on campus, and the Coca-Cola company, which had paid the movie company a great deal of money for product placement in
SBM
.

“Not only that,” he added grimly, “both of the soft drink companies are threatening to sue the school board and the district for damages and breach of contract.”

Or something like that. I didn't get all of it because right around then I went into
shock
. My body was
numb
. I couldn't even
talk
.

Staggering out of his office, I saw the undeniable proof that what he had been telling me was true. By the Snak Shak, rival soft drink employees were arguing in their gang colors: red and blue for Pepsi, red and white for Coke.

I wanted to cry out, “Can't we all just get along? Can't we work together for the red, white, and blue?”

But my tongue had withered in my mouth.

I stumbled to the parking lot, found my car, and drove home. I have no idea how; I was practically
unconscious
. Hours later, when I finally came to, I was lying on the family room floor, watching an old episode of
I Love Lucy
.

That was days ago. At first I tried to go back to school, but it's like everybody is blaming
me
for what happened with the movie!

Is it
my
fault that the pool got permanently stained so that it looks like the swim team is practicing in blood? The movie people promised that the color would come off, but now they say they
aren't
going to fix it, and on top of that
they're
suing Hiram Johnson, too!

Even The Girls—except for Ashley, who's still in her closet—are actually embarrassed to be seen with me! I always knew that Shelby thought that
she
should be the leader of The Girls, not me. But I never realized that Barbie and Kendall were such fair-weather friends. This afternoon I called Kendall and she said, “I can't talk now, Tiff. I have to practice the piano.”

She
never
practices the piano! Who does she think she's kidding?!

Through all of this pain and humiliation, Campbell has been wonderful and a tower of strength. He hasn't even mentioned the pool still being red. He keeps encouraging me to see the humor—
what
humor?—in the situation, and telling me that everything will work out for the best, et cetera.

The other day he took me for a drive to the coast to take my mind off my problems. We had lunch in a tiny little town called Elk, in a restaurant overlooking the ocean. The sky and the sea were a breathtaking blue, and way in the distance, we could see whales spouting. Later, we walked along the beach holding hands, and a playful seal skimmed across the waves beside us.

Campbell pressed a sand dollar into my hand. “Don't spend this all in one place,” he said, grinning.

My eyes filled with tears. I felt so happy and peaceful.

But driving home we passed through the town of Manchester, and I was suddenly enveloped in a fog bank of gloom. That's where my parents are going to open their combination bed-and-breakfast/nursing home. They've bought a big old farmhouse with lots of land and chicken coops that can be converted into guest rooms. They plan to call it the Home Sweet Home Home. Or the Home Sweet Home House. Something like that.

What are they thinking? There's
nothing
in Manchester, just the ocean and a post office and a grocery store. You can't buy clothes or furniture or
anything
. Don't get me wrong; it's a nice place to visit, but how are my parents going to
live
there?

Miss Jones dropped by after school today to bring me my homework. She told me not to let all this movie business get me down.

“So what if it didn't work out?” she said. “It's better to travel than to arrive,” et cetera.

I know she means well, but doesn't she realize that
Scream Bloody Murder
could've been my big break? Lots of important people would've seen me in the movie—directors and producers who would've recognized my talent and known that I'm not just another pretty face.

She said, “Now that the movie's over, Tiff, you can buckle down and catch up on your schoolwork. You've got to take that makeup test, and you still haven't handed in your essay,” et cetera.

I tried to look interested in what she was saying, but my head felt like a bowl of confetti. I just can't seem to
concentrate
lately. Dean Schmitz keeps leaving messages on the answering machine saying that I've got to come in right away and discuss my credits for graduation.

But that all seems so meaningless now. So futile.

Since I've been at home, I've watched lots of TV: game shows, comedies,
The Best of Larry Singer
, et cetera. But I
never
watch the news. It is
so
depressing. Baseball players striking, gas prices rising, that meteorite hitting the Netherlands. All those people, all those tulips—
gone
, in the blink of an eye.

And I absolutely
will not
look at a newspaper. For one thing, they always print a bunch of stuff that's not true—like what they wrote about
SBM
and why it got canceled. “An anonymous Hiram Johnson spokesman described the movie production as a ‘fiasco' and referred to cheerleader Tiffany Spratt as ‘precious and precocious—but ruthless.'”

Ruthless!
Me
!

On top of
that
, the newspapers ran a really ugly picture of me with my mouth hanging open, like someone had just socked me in the stomach. And they took everything I said out of context, so I ended up sounding like a total
nut
!

Now I understand why some stars refuse to have anything to do with the media.

But sometimes good things come out of tragedy. And I have to say that, during this difficult time, my family has really been there for me. Even my brother. He doesn't say much, but it was cute today how he gave me the last snack pack of Doritos. That spoke volumes.

And my father is still my biggest fan—showering me with compliments, bringing me flowers, and playing Sorry with me for hours, to take my mind off things.

My mother keeps saying I should go back to school.

“You can't just lie around and watch TV,” she says. “You've got to get back on the horse that threw you.”

I know she's right, but she doesn't understand what it's like to be a social
outcast
, to walk through the halls of my own school and know that people are laughing behind my back!

I got furious at her the day the movie deal collapsed, when she tried to tell me she was sorry it had happened.

“No, you're not!” I said. “You're
glad
it was canceled! You never wanted it to happen! You tried to stop the whole thing!”

“Of course I'm not glad it was canceled,” she said. “I could never be happy when you're hurt.”