“No way!” Marci declares. “Marshall Prep does not get one bit of publicity for punking us.”
Jagger tilts his chair back so that it balances precariously on two legs. “Why are you so against me trying, Marcikins?”
Quickly, I shut my notebook. I need to take charge right now so the team doesn’t blow up before a single frame is shot.
“It doesn’t matter whose initials they are. Clubs are more useful for a first broadcast. Five hundred freshmen need to hear about them before sign-up day.”
Jagger lets the chair down with a dissatisfied bang. “Whatever you say. But I’m willing to bet MP is a way better story than a group of lame-ass kids sitting around solving equestrian math puzzles!”
What we need is hatred. From it our ideas are born.
Jean Genet
MP LOG
Six drops of blood. Oh yeah, they looked cool on the page. Real red. One drop for each of us. We sat in a circle and pricked our fingers. Even the chicks did it. Then we mixed them together for a blood oath. Watching each other’s backs is the only way to survive.
This school is such bullshit, man. Ask anyone what they think and they’ll say it blows. But the truth is, everyone’s a phony. They say one thing, but then they join a team or sign up for some club they know is stupid. Not to mention sucking up to the teachers. MP’s not gonna suck up to anyone.
Phantom and I are in charge because we thought it up. Everyone picked names. I’m Skeletor. There’s Hell Girl, Frankenstein, Ghost Face and Zombie. We memorized the oath because that’s how I want to start every meeting. Always a good idea to remind people of a sworn blood oath.
Then we talked about what’s next. I explained my theory that you never do your best stuff first. Everyone agreed: start small and work up to some serious shit.
See, we’re really not the same as the other kids at school. When we say WiHi sucks, we mean it.
I cannot wait to see their shocked faces when it all goes down.
4
Every member of TV Production focuses on the monitor. It’s the Wednesday before the first broadcast. Presentation Day. The team has to show Mr. Carleton what we have so he can sign off on each segment.
Henry and I ate lunch in the Media Center for almost a week to work on the opening graphics. They’re heavily Photoshopped, with a bit of anime that Henry, bless his overachieving little soul, created.
When they finish running, we get the thumbs-up from Carleton. Next, Marci runs the football segment, which includes an interview with Phil. A few cheerleaders go on—and on—about school spirit. Then the senior-class president, Greg Martin, makes the pitch about the hot dog stand.
“An Irving dog is a deserving dog, dawgs,” his on-screen image tells us.
“Lame!” Jagger grumbles.
“But it’s in sync. And loud enough. Although the piece is a little slow, Marci,” Mr. Carleton says. “Can you edit the girls? And that tight end?”
“Linebacker,” Marci corrects. “As long it gets done in class. I can’t stay after school.”
I nod at my best friend, remembering our pact at Tony’s. Whatever you can’t finish, I will.
Next, it’s Raul’s turn. Eagerly, he clicks into the skateboarding piece. The thing starts crazy and keeps on going. Jagger’s on a board, doing some amazing tricks. A sweet bank to the ledge before he blasts a kick flip looks pretty spectacular on the screen. Then the point of view shifts so it seems like the viewer’s skating.
“Dude!” A Team’s leader, Scott Jenkins, looks a little green with envy—or worry. “Where’d you get the music?”
“GarageBand, bro,” Jagger says. “Put it together last night.”
“Now, that’s tight!” Scott murmurs.
I try not to gloat. Score one for the newbie—and the team stuck with him.
Mr. Carleton is not as impressed. “Camera work’s good, boys. But it’s a little light on specifics. For example, where’s the park located? Hours. The boring information that actually constitutes news.”
Raul laughs. “Don’t sweat it, Mr. C. I’m planning a voice-over under the last trick.”
“You could end with a visual,” I suggest. “Didn’t I see footage of the entrance sign in an earlier version?”
“I cut it because I thought we were long, but sure, I can go out on it. Along with the voice-over. Would that be okay, Mr. Carleton?”
The teacher nods. “What else do you have, Val?”
“Spotlight and club news. Omar, you’re up.”
He plays his interview with Mrs. Fahey. It’s the least interesting thing we’ve got, but it’s short. Still, it’s the kind of piece Carleton loves because it puts the administration in a good light.
“Great job, Omar, although her audio’s a little low. I’ll show you how to boost it when we’re done,” the teacher tells him.
I tap Jagger. “Ready?”
He shakes his head. “I was helping Raul.”
“You were supposed to work on the clubs—”
“No worries, Val.” Raul tries not to yawn. “It’ll get done.”
Is he making the point that he’d be a more laid-back producer than me? Or am I paranoid and he’s just trying to help?
Carleton stands. “Good start, folks. Valerie, you’re shooting anchor tomorrow, right? Plus keeping track of time.” He claps his hands. “B Team, you know what you have to do.
“A Team, I better see some equipment signed out. You’re on the hot seat next week.”
The class scatters. Scott’s group huddles at their table. There’s always some degree of rivalry between the two teams. If Scott wants to put in the effort, he and his team can definitely give me a run for the money. I won’t find out how seriously they want to compete until their broadcast airs next week.
“Bring it, A Team,” I whisper before moving to the computer Henry’s staked out as his own. “Do you want to write anchor stuff or should I?”
“You do it,” he says. “I’m not happy with the last two seconds of the opening.”
“Looked fine to me.”
Henry shakes his head. “Color’s not tracking….”
I leave him to his screen. No sense wasting class time writing material, because I can do that at home. There are more important things to worry about.
Raul and Jagger are working on the skateboard voice-over.
“Can I see what you have on the clubs?” Jagger hesitates, so I get in his face. “Let me explain how Advanced works, Voorham. Points are taken from everyone if we don’t run four segments. That’s why there’s a producer. It’s about the team, not any one person. I’m supposed to work with anyone who needs help.” I look to Raul. “You guys shot stuff, right? And imported?”
Importing footage to the computer takes forever. It’ll help a lot if they’ve gotten that far.
“Yeah, we digitized.” Raul stretches. “I got this, Jags. Can you find it for her?”
Jags? Don’t tell me Raul’s fallen under the Voorham spell. I’m pretty sure they never said a word to each other before last week.