"So.do you really think I have a chance?" Miranda asked me
innocently.
"Miranda, you know you're gonna make it so why don't you just stop trying to make me feel.well actually not me but stop trying.. Gosh I don't know. Just stop acting like you're not gonna win." I said feeling stupid and well, blonde.
I looked at my best friend and suddenly realized that this could really be her "big break." Miranda can sing better than anybody I know and she's always had tons of talent. I could tell she knew she was going to make it in by the confident smirk on her lips. "Miranda, you know you're great so stop acting stupid and start getting hyped."
"Lizzie," she said with that smile she gets when she makes an A on a math test, "I'm really glad you're here." As she said that she leaned over and hugged me. For some reason I felt startled and didn't hug back. I just sat there. Maybe because I thought this was the last time Miranda was going to be able to come to me. Don't ask why, I was feeling really confused. Like in fourth grade the night before my cat had to be put to sleep. I mean it's not like this is the last time I was going to see Miranda, I'd probably see her tomorrow, but for some reason it just felt.different. Okay I'm rambling now so I'd better get on with the story.
I guess it all started last month when Miranda told me about this talent show. I didn't think much about it at first. Miranda's always entering those sort of things, but as she told me more about it, I got more interested. First prize was 5,000 dollars and time in a recording studio to make a demo.
"Lizzie! This could be IT!" Miranda said to me that day as she excitedly waved the flyer in front of my face. "I could finally be discovered! I could be 'Miranda Sanchez, World Famous Singer.Person!"
I sat there for a minute, with this big dumb smile on my face, looking basically clueless, as I stared at the new guy, Dylan. I didn't think much about what Miranda was saying. I was too busy looking at Dylan's gorgeous blonde hair and the way his jeans fit him.I was basically lost in a Dylan daydream. I don't know what it was about him, just the way he had that one dimple on his left cheek when he smiled. I loved his smile, just everything about it. His perfect teeth that got that sparkle in them like guys on cartoons, and the way his eyes sort of squinted in this really, adorable way.
By this point Ethan Craft was totally out (in my mind) and Dylan was completely in. But for some reason no other girls felt this way. Don't ask me why. I thought Dylan was the hottest guy on the history of the planet, but I guess he didn't have something about him that would qualify him to be a "stud muffin." Maybe it was the fact that he joined the chess club the first week he came, or that he decided to be good at math. But all these things are good, for me. That meant that I wouldn't have too much competition. Good golly, me and my rambling. No, this story isn't about Dylan. It's about Miranda and her talent show, although it could end up being about Dylan.
Back to Miranda, for months she practiced for this talent show. She was determined. I didn't see much of her in that month though, so it was pretty lonely. Just me and Gordo, no more three way phone calls and making Internet chat rooms, it was normal phone calls and just IM'ing with Gordo in one single little box. It was actually pretty, well lonely. About a week before the talent show I called Miranda up to see how everything was going. The first thing I noticed is that she was sounding awfully hoarse. Yes I know what you're thinking, 'She practiced so long and so hard that she lost her voice." Well, actually you're right. I spent the rest of the week in Miranda's room with a Gordo, a ventilator, and a jar of honey. Gordo and I tried every possible "lost voice" remedy we could think of. But I won't bore you with that part of the story. I'll just get on to the bigger part.
Finally the day of the talent show arrived. Miranda had blown the competition away at try-outs a few weeks before and I knew she was going to win. Miranda's singing was the best I've heard come out of a 14-year-old girl since Mandy Moore first came out. All right, bad comparison, but still. The girl can sing. Everyone knows that and has known that since the Kindergarten musical of "Are You My Mother?" (Don't ask me why it was a musical, our teacher thought it would be "cute" and "original" and I guess it was) when Miranda played the little duck that ran around singing "Are you my mother?" to all the other mommy animals.
I was supposed to ride with Miranda, Gordo, and Mrs. Sanchez to the church where the show was going to be held a few hours before it started so Miranda could "warm up" and get all dolled up and things like that. As we rode up in the Sanchez's mini van, I looked over at Miranda and could see the sweat beads form on her forehead and the nervous.nervousness on her face. Then I looked over at Gordo as he talked to Mrs. Sanchez about the pressure's the media puts on people today. I knew I would be in the same position switched next week at Gordo's film presentation. I was never the nervous one. I was always the onlooker. I guess that bothered me, but oh well.
When we got to the auditorium Gordo and I weren't allowed to go backstage (stupid security people) so we just wondered around the halls.
"Do you think Miranda will win?" he said to me as I looked at a mural painted on the wall next to the front door.
"What do you mean? Of coarse I think she'll win. Wait, I know she'll win."
"Nice of you to be so confident." Gordo said with a laugh.
I wondered why he was asking me such a stupid question. He did think she was going to win, didn't' he?
"Miranda, you know you're gonna make it so why don't you just stop trying to make me feel.well actually not me but stop trying.. Gosh I don't know. Just stop acting like you're not gonna win." I said feeling stupid and well, blonde.
I looked at my best friend and suddenly realized that this could really be her "big break." Miranda can sing better than anybody I know and she's always had tons of talent. I could tell she knew she was going to make it in by the confident smirk on her lips. "Miranda, you know you're great so stop acting stupid and start getting hyped."
"Lizzie," she said with that smile she gets when she makes an A on a math test, "I'm really glad you're here." As she said that she leaned over and hugged me. For some reason I felt startled and didn't hug back. I just sat there. Maybe because I thought this was the last time Miranda was going to be able to come to me. Don't ask why, I was feeling really confused. Like in fourth grade the night before my cat had to be put to sleep. I mean it's not like this is the last time I was going to see Miranda, I'd probably see her tomorrow, but for some reason it just felt.different. Okay I'm rambling now so I'd better get on with the story.
I guess it all started last month when Miranda told me about this talent show. I didn't think much about it at first. Miranda's always entering those sort of things, but as she told me more about it, I got more interested. First prize was 5,000 dollars and time in a recording studio to make a demo.
"Lizzie! This could be IT!" Miranda said to me that day as she excitedly waved the flyer in front of my face. "I could finally be discovered! I could be 'Miranda Sanchez, World Famous Singer.Person!"
I sat there for a minute, with this big dumb smile on my face, looking basically clueless, as I stared at the new guy, Dylan. I didn't think much about what Miranda was saying. I was too busy looking at Dylan's gorgeous blonde hair and the way his jeans fit him.I was basically lost in a Dylan daydream. I don't know what it was about him, just the way he had that one dimple on his left cheek when he smiled. I loved his smile, just everything about it. His perfect teeth that got that sparkle in them like guys on cartoons, and the way his eyes sort of squinted in this really, adorable way.
By this point Ethan Craft was totally out (in my mind) and Dylan was completely in. But for some reason no other girls felt this way. Don't ask me why. I thought Dylan was the hottest guy on the history of the planet, but I guess he didn't have something about him that would qualify him to be a "stud muffin." Maybe it was the fact that he joined the chess club the first week he came, or that he decided to be good at math. But all these things are good, for me. That meant that I wouldn't have too much competition. Good golly, me and my rambling. No, this story isn't about Dylan. It's about Miranda and her talent show, although it could end up being about Dylan.
Back to Miranda, for months she practiced for this talent show. She was determined. I didn't see much of her in that month though, so it was pretty lonely. Just me and Gordo, no more three way phone calls and making Internet chat rooms, it was normal phone calls and just IM'ing with Gordo in one single little box. It was actually pretty, well lonely. About a week before the talent show I called Miranda up to see how everything was going. The first thing I noticed is that she was sounding awfully hoarse. Yes I know what you're thinking, 'She practiced so long and so hard that she lost her voice." Well, actually you're right. I spent the rest of the week in Miranda's room with a Gordo, a ventilator, and a jar of honey. Gordo and I tried every possible "lost voice" remedy we could think of. But I won't bore you with that part of the story. I'll just get on to the bigger part.
Finally the day of the talent show arrived. Miranda had blown the competition away at try-outs a few weeks before and I knew she was going to win. Miranda's singing was the best I've heard come out of a 14-year-old girl since Mandy Moore first came out. All right, bad comparison, but still. The girl can sing. Everyone knows that and has known that since the Kindergarten musical of "Are You My Mother?" (Don't ask me why it was a musical, our teacher thought it would be "cute" and "original" and I guess it was) when Miranda played the little duck that ran around singing "Are you my mother?" to all the other mommy animals.
I was supposed to ride with Miranda, Gordo, and Mrs. Sanchez to the church where the show was going to be held a few hours before it started so Miranda could "warm up" and get all dolled up and things like that. As we rode up in the Sanchez's mini van, I looked over at Miranda and could see the sweat beads form on her forehead and the nervous.nervousness on her face. Then I looked over at Gordo as he talked to Mrs. Sanchez about the pressure's the media puts on people today. I knew I would be in the same position switched next week at Gordo's film presentation. I was never the nervous one. I was always the onlooker. I guess that bothered me, but oh well.
When we got to the auditorium Gordo and I weren't allowed to go backstage (stupid security people) so we just wondered around the halls.
"Do you think Miranda will win?" he said to me as I looked at a mural painted on the wall next to the front door.
"What do you mean? Of coarse I think she'll win. Wait, I know she'll win."
"Nice of you to be so confident." Gordo said with a laugh.
I wondered why he was asking me such a stupid question. He did think she was going to win, didn't' he?