Stealing The Show (Such Sweet Sorrow Trilogy, Book One)

18

THAT NIGHT, I attack the ending of the book. The typewriter is running out of ribbon and the words are really faint on the page, but I can still read them. And they keep coming, like the story is taking over on its own.  

But it's sad, too. I kind of don't want the book to end. It'll be the end of all that time I got to spend with Paps.  

Except: The ending isn't the ending. It's just the beginning. I get it. 

I can see Paps' handwriting telling me that. And I can see what'll happen at the end of the book. And I can see that I'll have this story that we shared forever. 

And I get a slammin' idea for exactly what I'm going to do to go after Jubilee Marshfield. 

Of course I get the job at Papa's Custard. It takes two minutes right after school the next day. Turns out Shitbarf can't keep any employees around, because he's the kind of old man who gets nicknamed Shitbarf, so he hires me after one quick glance to make sure my fly is zipped and my shoes are on the correct feet. 

I get put to work instantly, alongside Shoe. I think we're the only two employees. Shoe makes us two custard cones, which taste like candle wax, and I tell him my idea. I have no idea if it's going to work. But besides this small detail, everything is going perfectly.  

And there's no doubt that this plan is going to get us fired. But I'm not in this job for the money. 

Of course Shoe thinks the whole thing is brilliant. 

We spend a week getting everything ready. There are a few people we have to get on board with this idea.  

Usually it goes like this:  

I tell them my plan. 

Them: [blank stare] 

Me: You know, it's like a play. 

Them: What? 

Me: Just, not in a theater, or on a stage.  

Them: What? Why not? 

Me: And most of the audience doesn't know it's a play, either. 

Them: [blank stare, longer] 

Me: It'll be great. [Also here, insert flaming blush across my face because I'm pretty sure they know the only reason I would do this is for a girl.] 

Them: Oooooookay?  

Shoe's a better salesman of the idea. I get him to talk Dave Underwood into it, but Dave's so dense he doesn't even realize what's going on. He's so fired up about it, I think he'd probably give me a chest bump if it works. 

There are two people we have to have, and luckily they're the easiest to convince. 

I tell Dramatical my plan. 

Dramatical: Holy shit. This. Is. Awesome. 

I tell Blevins my plan. 

Blevins: Interesting. Truly experimental theatre. I've never done that with a high school play before. Once, I was in a conceptual art scene in the early nineties and-- 

Me: (interrupting) We're totally breaking down the fourth wall. (I have no idea what I'm talking about.) 

Blevins: (looks at me like I have no idea what I'm talking about.) 

Me: Except we don't have any walls. We don't have a stage. 

Blevins: Yes, I realize.  

Me: (blank stare)