The Cannibals (5 page)

“What about fish?”

“Fish have faces,” he said.

“Yes,” I said, “but they look like—fish!”

“Tiffany, why are you getting so upset?”

“I'm not upset!” I said. I'd torn my napkin into shreds. Shelby and Bryan came in just then, so I tossed the shreds into the air like confetti and laughed, but my heart was breaking. Why did Campbell have to turn out to be a
nut
? Why hadn't I seen this coming? I should've guessed the other night, when we went out after the show, and he wouldn't even
try
the chicken fingers—even after I'd explained that they weren't really fingers!

“You can eat whatever you want,” he said. “But look at it from an environmental standpoint, too. It took tons of grain to grow that burger, and cow poop is a major pollutant.”

“That's hardly the point!” I whispered furiously. Shelby and Bryan were sitting nearby. “I just don't want you to be one of those people!”

“What people?” he said.

“The kind that thinks animals have rights!”

“They do,” he said.

“I can't
believe
this! Why didn't you tell me sooner!”

“Tell you what?” Campbell's face was getting red. “I've mentioned it before, but you probably weren't listening. It's like you're living in your own little world.”

“That's not true!” I denied.

“And another thing,” he said, “why do you keep calling me Cannibal? You can't even remember my name.”

“If you're going to pick on every little thing I do—”

“I'm trying to be honest with you, Tiff,” he said. “Don't you want to be real friends?”

“Of
course
I do,” I said. “But why can't you be like everybody else?”

“Millions of people all over the world are vegetarians!”

“Yes, but they're not Americans!” I pointed out.

“Tiffany, you're not making any sense,” he said.

“Neither are you!” I said. “What about Noah's Ark? If God didn't want us to eat meat, He wouldn't have given us all those animals!”

“It was called Noah's Ark, not Noah's Diner,” Campbell said.

My mind reeled with shock as Campbell kept talking. He said I shouldn't buy any products from companies that do animal testing—products I have to use every day, like deodorant and mascara and shampoo!

“Are you saying that animals are more important than
us
?”

“I've got news for you, Tiff. We
are
animals,” he said.

How could Campbell be so
irrational
?

I said, “The next thing you know, you'll be having protests, or freeing all the cats in Biology Lab!”

“It's a little late for that; they're dead,” Campbell snapped. “But I wouldn't dissect one. Mimi Durning and I went to the library instead.”

“You went to the library with
Mimi Durning
?” I gasped. “Now everyone will think you're a weirdo, too!”

“Why, because I don't want to play with dead cats? What's the matter with you, Tiff? You're too smart to act dumb. Do you always have to be so superficial?”

I almost slugged him. But I could feel Shelby watching us with her greedy little eyes. The
last
thing I wanted to do was argue with my boyfriend in public!

“You see?” Campbell said. “You're doing it right now.”

“Doing what?” I demanded.

“You care more about what Shelby thinks than what I'm saying.”

“That's not true!” I said.

“Then why are you smiling?”

“I'm not smiling!” I insisted.

“Yes, you are.”

I felt my lips. The corners were turned up! I thought I was going to freak out!

“Campbell, you don't understand,” I stammered. “I'm too upset to talk to you right now. Maybe I'll phone you later.”

“Whatever.” He threw down his napkin and stalked out. He didn't even recycle his soda can! He just left it right there on the table!

I couldn't go back to class. I drove home and collapsed on my bed, crying. My father heard me and knocked on my door.

“Honey,” he said, looking worried, “what's wrong?”

“Nothing, Daddy,” I told him. “It's just cramps.”

He must've called my mother because she came home early. She sat beside me on the bed and said, “Tiffany, what's the matter?”

“Oh, nothing!” I sobbed. “My whole life is ruined, that's all.”

She stroked my back. “Is it really that bad?”

I was crying so hard I could barely talk. “Campbell and I—” Then the tears overwhelmed me.

“Did you and Campbell have a fight?” she asked.

“Yes,” I managed. “We broke up! It's over!”

She said, “I didn't know you two were going steady.”

How can my mother be so
blind
? “He's the only person I've ever really loved,” I moaned.

“Honey, you two hardly know each other,” she said. “Don't you think you might be overreacting?”

“Mom, you don't understand!” I wept. “Today I found out that Campbell … that Campbell …” I could hardly bear to say the words, “that Campbell is a vegetarian!”

“So?”

“So why does he have to be one of those people? Everybody I know eats meat!”

“I don't,” she said.

“Since when?” I asked.

“Two years ago.”

I guess I hadn't noticed. The important thing was that Campbell and I were through. My beautiful dream of our future was shattered. How could we get married and go out to dinner with our friends if Campbell was going to ask the waitress if there was anything without a
face
on the menu? How can someone who looks so
normal
be such a
radical
?

My mother said, “Maybe you'll feel better after you eat something.”

“What's for dinner?” I asked.

“Tuna fish casserole.”

I tried to eat, but it was like everything on the plate was staring
back
at me. So I came upstairs and lay down on my bed. The horrible scene at the Hot Spot kept replaying in my head. Perhaps my mother was right and I'd overreacted. After all, it's a free country. Campbell's entitled to his opinion, no matter how stupid it is.

But it's too late now, too late for apologies. Campbell will probably never speak to me again.

A miracle just happened! My brother came to the door and said I had a phone call.

It was Campbell! He said, “I tried to call you, but your line was busy, so I called your folks' number.”

I admitted I'd left my phone off the hook.

“If you'd rather not talk—” he began.

“That's okay,” I said. For once, I was glad he doesn't have a videophone and couldn't see how bad I looked. “We're going to have to face it sometime.”

“I'm sorry about what happened today, Tiff. I really am,” he said. “I shouldn't have called you superficial.”

“That's okay,” I said, happy tears welling in my eyes. “I shouldn't have called you a weirdo.”

“I don't want to fight with you, Tiff,” he said. “It makes me feel so bad. But sometimes it seems like you're putting on an act, when all you have to do is be yourself.”

“I know. I want you to be yourself, too,” I said.

“Real friends don't have to agree about everything,” he pointed out. “Real friends can accept each other's differences.”

“That's true,” I agreed. I want Campbell and me to be
more
than friends, but it wasn't the time to go into all that. “It's just that you're so important to me, Campbell,” I added.

“Well, at least you got my name right,” he said.

We laughed. It felt so
good
to be together again!

Then Campbell started talking about the importance of accepting people for who they really are, with all their uniqueness and warts, et cetera, and how, if we all lived by the Golden Rule, this world would be heaven on Earth and so on; then the Call Waiting buzzed, so I put him on hold.

It was Shelby. She said, “Did you hear the news?”

“What news?” I said.

“They're going to make a movie at our school!” she said.

“You're
kidding
!”

“No!”

“Are you
sure
?” I demanded.

“Absolutely,” she said. “Amber Johnson was working in the attendance office and she heard Principal Brown talking to the movie people.”

“I can't
believe
it!” I said. “This is so fantastic!”

I told Campbell I'd have to call him back.

Chapter Seven

Rumors about the movie were flying all over school this morning, and I thought for sure the principal would announce it over the PA. But it was just the usual boring news: Don't forget the freshman car wash, bring in canned goods for the homeless, et cetera.

I was
dying
of suspense, so I tried to sneak out, but Mr. Brewer's sub was being really tight; she wouldn't even let me go to the bathroom! What if I'd really had to go? And who knows when Mr. Brewer will be back. The other day while he was instructing Becki Jordan in the Drivers' Ed car, somebody cut in front of them and Mr. Brewer
snapped
. He made Becki
chase
the guy, and when he stopped for a light, Mr. Brewer jumped out and
attacked
him!

Anyway, while I was sitting there wondering how I could find out what was happening, Amber Johnson came in with a message from Dean Schmitz: He wanted to see me right away! Talk about perfect timing! Thank you, God!

In the hall I asked Amber if the rumors were true, and she said the movie people were in Principal Brown's office right then!

I made a quick stop in the bathroom to check my hair. It looked great. Then I walked past the secretary—she said, “You can't go in there, Tiffany”—and into Principal Brown's office.

“I'm sorry,” I apologized, when everybody stared at me. “I'm looking for Dean Schmitz.”

“Have you tried his office, Tiffany?” the principal asked.

You could tell the people were from Hollywood. The man was wearing sunglasses—in the office!—and the woman was thin and dressed in black. I shook their hands and introduced myself.

“Hello,” I said. “I'm Tiffany Spratt.” That
Spratt
has
got
to go. “Head Yell Leader at Hiram Johnson High School. Welcome to our campus.”

“Thank you, Tiffany. That will be all,” the principal said.

“I understand you're making a movie at our school,” I continued. “That's
so
exciting! Are you working from a screenplay or a treatment?” Thank
God
for my subscription to
People
magazine!

“A treatment,” the man answered, impressed. “Have you had much film experience?”

“Not really,” I admitted, “but I'm a professional model, and my goal is to be a TV and movie actress.”

“Thank you, Tiffany,” the principal said. “You can go back to class now.”

“What kind of modeling have you done?” the woman asked me.

“Runway and print,” I said. “I can show you my portfolio.”

“Bring it to the auditions,” she suggested.

“I will,” I promised. “What's the movie called?”

“
Scream Bloody Murder
. It's a comedy.”

“I can really scream,” I said.

“That won't be necessary, Tiffany.” Principal Brown butted in again. “As I've explained to Ms. Stuart and Mr. Goldman, we're running a school here, not a movie set.”

“But just think what an educational experience it would be for our students,” I pointed out. “And it would really put Hiram Johnson on the map!”

“I fail to see how a murder movie is educational,” grumped Principal Brown. What an old sourpuss he was being! Doesn't he realize that when opportunity knocks, you at
least
have to open the door?

“As I've explained, Mr. Brown,” said Mr. Goldman, “nothing's written in stone. We're willing to work with your people on the script. And remember, none of the murders actually take place on campus.”

“Except for the one in the cafeteria,” Ms. Stuart noted. “When the cook gets possessed and serves the poisoned tapioca.”

“True,” said Mr. Goldman, “but only the fat kid dies.”

“And the scene where the maintenance man goes berserk,” Ms. Stuart added, “and mows down all those kids.”

“Sure,” said Mr. Goldman, “but with a lawn mower, not a gun.”

“No, no, no.” Principal Brown shook his head. “The custodians won't go for that. And the school board would never approve it.”

“Have the board members seen the treatment?” I asked.

“No they haven't, Tiffany, but—is there some reason why you're still here?”

“Well, shouldn't they be allowed to make up their own minds?” I asked. “After all,
they're
the ones running the school district. Maybe they could play themselves in the movie!”

“That's a possibility,” Mr. Goldman said.

Principal Brown was making an
awful
face, so I addressed Ms. Stuart and Mr. Goldman. “Why don't you make a presentation at the next school board meeting?” I suggested. “I'll rally all the kids to show support! We'll work together as a team to achieve our goal and score another victory for Hiram Johnson! Oh, please don't turn us down, Mr. Brown! This is the chance of a lifetime!”

There were tears in my eyes. Even
I
was surprised. Everybody was staring at me, frozen.

“Thank you, Tiffany,” the principal said. “Go back to class now. Or wherever you were going.”

I gave Ms. Stuart and Mr. Goldman my phone number and told them I'd be glad to help in any way I could.

Ms. Stuart asked about my
Cannibals
sweatshirt. I explained that The Girls and I were in a gang. Not a gang, per se, more like a club. Mr. Goldman seemed really interested.