I Represent Sean Rosen, page 14
chapter 37
I am such an idiot. “Best, Sean.” That’s it. It’s over. Why did Buzz have to text me?
It’s not Buzz’s fault. It’s my fault. I was doing something really important and I stopped paying attention. I am such an idiot. I just threw away my whole career because I was busy imagining myself singing at the Grammys. I am such an idiot.
Stefanie is buying a big ad in The Hollywood Reporter right now.
THERE IS NO DAN WELCH.
DAN WELCH IS SEAN ROSEN.
AVOID THEM BOTH.
Why didn’t I read it again before I sent it? I did read it again, but I was still thinking about the band. I used to read every word of Dan’s e-mails over and over and over before sending them. We got too confident. No. I got too confident. There is no Dan Welch.
I wanted to blame the computer, I wanted to blame my phone, I wanted to blame Stefanie, but there’s no one to blame except me. I got through dinner with my dad. I told him I wanted to watch the commercials so he wouldn’t mute them. I didn’t feel like talking. I didn’t have any ice cream. I don’t deserve ice cream.
I laid in bed for a long time, saying, “You are an idiot.” At some point I fell asleep.
I woke up in the morning, and for about twenty seconds I forgot. I started to go to my computer to check Dan Welch’s e-mail, but then I remembered “Best, Sean.” I didn’t even bother. Stefanie isn’t going to write back to him now that she knows he doesn’t exist. And I’m not in the mood for Collectibles Dan Welch.
I was in the kitchen eating cereal when my mom hurried in dressed in her uniform. She grabbed her lunch from the fridge, looked at me, and said, “What’s wrong?” She always knows.
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.” Fortunately she had to leave for work so she didn’t have time to do a complete investigation.
School was awful. Thanks to my stupid mistake, I’ll have to keep going. I had it all planned out. When we started shooting A Week with Your Grandparents, a tutor would come to my dressing room at the studio. I don’t know why I thought writers get dressing rooms.
Or else I would share a tutor with the actors playing Chris and Chloe. We wouldn’t be the same age, but the tutor would teach us all at the same time. It would be fun.
Or if I was too busy on the set every day, I would go to high school online. I’ve heard of some kids in show business who do that. That might be even better because you work at your own speed. Maybe I’d be able to do all four years of high school in four days. No. Four weeks. No. Four months. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter because my career is over, and I’m stuck going to school right here.
Realizing that was bad enough, but then at the end of the day we got our report cards. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I got a C in French. That has to be a mistake.
I went to see Mademoiselle Fou. She was sitting on her desk texting. She didn’t look up, even though I’m sure she heard me come in. She probably saw me too, but she acted like she didn’t. Finally I said, “Excuse me . . .”
“En français, s’il te plaît.” (“In French, please.”)
I pointed to the C on my report card and said, “Pourquoi?” (“Why?”) She looked at me for a second.
“Pourquoi pas?” (“Why not?”)
I got mad. I switched back to English. “Come on. I got an A on every single test.”
“Your grade is based both on tests and on class participation.”
“What are you talking about? You never call on me!!!”
“That’s not true, Gaston. I called on you and you couldn’t perform the reading exercise.”
“Marcel Proust?!! That’s crazy! You couldn’t have read it either.” I was about to say something else. Something worse. But instead I turned around and walked out of the classroom. She didn’t come after me. She didn’t have to. She won.
I was so mad I almost knocked over Matty, the custodian. I told him I was sorry and I just leaned against the wall for a minute to think.
Should I go back in there and tell her I’ll do Le Bistro again? She would probably change my grade. Brianna would be happy.
No. I can’t. I’ll take the C.
Leaving school, I was in a daze. I’ve never actually gotten beaten up (thank goodness), but this is probably what it feels like.
French is bad, but the worst is wrecking my own career. I’ve been working so hard, and things actually seemed to be going pretty well.
It’s true that nothing is happening yet with my big idea. But that was my decision. I never expected to start my career with a movie, but I actually loved working on it.
None of that matters now. My movie will never get made, and I’ll never get to try out my big idea. All because I wasn’t paying attention. Because I was doing two things at once. Because one of the two things was way less important than the other, but I didn’t act like it was.
When you get a text, you hear that sound, and you just drop whatever you’re doing. Even if it’s writing a letter to the Vice President of Production of a huge Hollywood studio asking her for more money for your movie. Maybe the “bannd” could have waited until Dan Welch finished what he was doing.
There were a lot of kids walking by, but I was just standing there. I couldn’t stop saying mean things to myself. Then I heard someone say, “Hey, Sean.”
I turned around. It was Ethan. I never heard him start a conversation before, but he picked a very good time. I thought about telling him what happened, since Ethan was almost Dan Welch and he’s the only person not in Hollywood who knows about A Week with Your Grandparents. I couldn’t. But I asked him if he wanted to go for a bike ride. We decided to meet back at school and we both went home to get our bikes.
chapter 38
My last bike got stolen. It was awful. You ride somewhere, you lock it up, then you come out and you go to where you left it, and it isn’t there. Then you start wondering if you forgot where you left it. You know you didn’t, but you start looking everywhere anyway. Then you finally face the fact. Someone stole it.
I loved that bike. It was a birthday present from my parents. I think it was really expensive. I need a bike because I ride all the time. My dad wanted to buy me the same bike again, but I wouldn’t let him. I would always be afraid it would get stolen. So we went to the police bike auction.
I was sort of hoping they’d have my stolen bike, but of course they didn’t. The only bike that was the right size for me was a girl’s bike. It wasn’t pink or anything. It just didn’t have that bar that goes between the seat and the handlebars.
I actually never rode a girl’s bike before, so I tried it. It’s a good bike. Not super nice, like my old bike, but I like the way it rides. And I found out it’s actually easier getting on and off a girl’s bike.
My dad said he could buy me a new bike, but I told him I liked this one. We got it for $23. Besides saving money, this bike has built-in robbery insurance. I don’t know for sure, but I bet most bikes are stolen by boys, and the kind of boy who would steal a bike is the kind of boy who would never, ever ride a girl’s bike. I don’t have to worry about this bike.
Ethan was already at school when I got there. I was waiting to see if he was going to say something about me having a girl’s bike. He didn’t. We took a long ride around our town. Even though we didn’t talk very much, it took my mind off everything bad that happened.
I had to pee, and we were pretty far away from my house. “Hey, Ethan . . . where do you live?” He told me the name of the street. It wasn’t far. I asked if I could use his bathroom. We were near an alley between some buildings, and Ethan pointed and said, “You could just go over there.”
I said, “Actually . . . I don’t like doing things like that.” He looked at me for a second. Ethan and I don’t know each other very well, but I guess he figured out that he wasn’t going to talk me into it, so he turned his bike around and said, “Follow me.”
His house looks pretty much like mine, just a normal, not very big house. There was a car in the driveway. We went inside. It was kind of dark. I saw someone hurry out of the living room into the kitchen. I think it must have been his mom, but I couldn’t really see her.
Ethan pointed me to the bathroom. I don’t like to be nosy, but . . . Okay, I do sort of like to be nosy, but I try not to be too obvious about it. Looking around the house, and around the bathroom when the door was shut, I got kind of a weird feeling. I know Ethan’s family moved to our town just a little while ago, but it looks like they never really moved in.
There aren’t a lot of boxes around, but this house just doesn’t look like a place where a family lives. They have chairs and tables and other furniture that families have, but nothing on the walls.
After I was done in the bathroom I saw a picture. It was a kid holding a trophy. I said to Ethan, “Is that you?” He said no, and he kind of hurried me out of the house. I never saw his mom or whoever ran out of the living room. Ethan got back on his bike, and I had to pedal fast to catch up to him.
We rode for a little while, then we stopped near that waterfall that isn’t actually a waterfall. It was quiet for a while, just the sound of the water. I wanted to ask Ethan about his family, but I didn’t know what question to ask.
I was still thinking about it when Ethan stood up. He got on his bike, said, “See you in school,” then he rode off. I sat there for a few more minutes.
I was glad that neither of my parents was home. My mom would have continued the questioning from this morning, and even my dad would have known I wasn’t feeling very good. I’m not saying that my dad doesn’t usually care how I feel. He does. But he never tries to talk me out of feeling bad. He knows people feel bad sometimes.
I grabbed a cookie and some pretzels and some lemonade and I went to my room. I tried to look at Facebook and I couldn’t. I tried playing Ricochet Roulette and I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I went back to my computer and looked at Dan Welch’s e-mail account. He had a new e-mail.
To: Dan Welch Management
From: Stefanie V. President
OMG!!! Dan, I am so, so sorry. Thank you for contacting me. I swear to you on my infant daughter’s extremely soft head, I did not see that contract. Please apologize to Sean. Ask him to pretend it didn’t happen. Give me a couple of days, and business affairs will get back to you with something I’m sure you and Sean will be happy with. We don’t want to lose him.
Gotta go. Marisa’s hungry. Again. I can’t even tell you.
By the way, it’s hilarious that you signed your e-mail “Sean.” I’ve been doing that a lot lately, too. I sign things with my husband’s name, my mother’s name, and just yesterday, “Esmeralda.” She’s the baby nurse.
But I recently expelled another human being from my body. What’s your excuse?
❤ S
Dan’s excuse is that Sean was busy imagining himself singing with a bannd in a stadium.
And guess what? That actually was a terrible deal they offered me. I guess Stefanie really didn’t know before Dan told her.
I feel like I should write to Martin Manager to thank him for telling me I could get more. He was totally right. Unfortunately, I got the feeling from his e-mail that I shouldn’t write to him again.
Stefanie actually thought it was funny that Dan signed his e-mail “Sean.”
I can’t believe it. I’m relieved, but I don’t exactly feel happy. More like dizzy.
I wonder if I just used up all my good luck for the rest of the year. Or the rest of my life.
Okay, what did I learn from all this?
I have no idea. It was a horrible nineteen hours. I still think I was an idiot for not paying attention to what I was doing, but I’m glad my career isn’t over. I don’t know what’s going on with Ethan’s family, but it made me think there are worse things in life than a movie not getting made. But I’m really glad my movie is getting made.
chapter 39
Thank goodness it’s a long weekend and nothing is going to happen in the next few days. Business affairs is working on our new Option Agreement, but I’m sure I won’t get it right away.
I think Dan Welch would tell me to take a break from thinking about the movie. But he knows me pretty well and knows I probably can’t. So he’d say, “Okay, then stop thinking about the Option Agreement and start thinking about the story.” I actually think that’s a good idea, because when I ask myself questions about the characters, I don’t always know the answers.
Like for example, I don’t know Chris and Chloe’s parents’ names. When they’re in the middle of nowhere together in Bolivia, they have to call each other something. I wonder if they use each other’s real names or if they’re the kind of parents who call each other Honey or Pumpkin.
Chloe and Chris’s mom wouldn’t let anyone call her Pumpkin, even her husband. She likes people to use her real name, which is . . . Jill. It’s a good thing she’s not married to my dad, for two reasons. First of all, my dad doesn’t call anyone by their real name. His three best friends are Turch, LeDuke, and Foul Shot.
The second reason is my dad’s name is Jack. I don’t like movies where the characters’ names are a joke, like Jack and Jill. If you want it to feel real, they have to have real names. Chris and Chloe’s dad’s name is Steve.
I want this movie to feel like something that could actually happen. I know that grandfathers don’t invent virtual reality time machines every day, but I believe that Chris and Chloe’s grandfather did. And maybe your grandparents actually are way more interesting than you ever thought they were.
That makes me think about my grandparents. I don’t know anything about my mom’s father. Maybe he invented something. I’m going to ask Mary Lou, Mom’s mother, when I see her this weekend. Maybe she invented something.
I got back to thinking about the movie. Sometimes when I’m thinking hard, it looks like I’m staring at whatever is right in front of me, but I’m not. My eyes are open and my head is pointed in that direction, but my brain is looking at whatever I’m thinking about.
Like right now, I’m facing one of those posters I’m going to take down before my next Skype meeting, but what I’m seeing is the house where Jill, Steve, Chris, and Chloe live. It’s bigger and more modern than ours. So when Chris and Chloe go to their grandparents’ house, it feels very old-fashioned to them.
Then there’s Chris’s cheerleader girlfriend, Sabrina (thank you, Ethan). During the whole week with his grandparents, Sabrina is constantly calling and texting Chris. He used to like that, but now he notices the things she talks about. When you’re away from home, nothing at your school sounds very important.
Part of it is that Chris has been spending a lot of time with his grandmother, who always wants to help mankind. He can’t imagine Sabrina doing that unless it might help her get into a good college or get her picture in the paper. It makes him think.
What about Chloe? What happens on her other trips to the past?
Back at home, Chloe is frustrated because she’s twelve, and her mom still treats her like a little girl. She can’t go to the mall with her friends unless a parent is with them the whole time. Worst of all, Chloe isn’t allowed to be on Facebook. You’re supposed to be thirteen, but every one of Chloe’s friends has an account. Chloe wants to go back in time to see what her mom was like when she was twelve. But her mom isn’t there to spit on the slide.
Chris, who’s pretty good at science, says, “Aren’t there other ways to get Mom’s DNA? She kissed us good-bye. Maybe some of her DNA is still on our faces.”
“Wait!” Chloe runs upstairs and gets her hat. Her mom borrowed it last winter and Chloe finally took it back because her mom didn’t need it in Bolivia. She pulls a hair from the hat and hands it to Grandpa. “This one is definitely Mom’s. I don’t have those roots.”
Grandpa isn’t sure the machine will work with hair because he always used spit, but he’ll try. He sets the machine for the date of Chloe’s mom’s twelfth birthday.
Chloe climbs into the machine. We see what she sees, which is very blurry, and we hear what she hears, which sounds like people talking under water. It’s because the machine isn’t used to working with hair. Outside, Grandpa is turning knobs and pushing buttons. Finally the green lights come on.
Inside, everything is now clear. Chloe is at a multiplex, which is show-business language for a movie theater that shows a lot of different movies. Every movie theater is like that now, but in 1983, only some movie theaters were multiplexes. I looked it up.
Chloe sees a bunch of twelve-year-old girls she doesn’t recognize, and a woman who looks kind of familiar. It’s Jill’s mom, Chloe’s other grandmother. She’s taking the girls to the movies for Jill’s birthday. Chloe can’t figure out which girl is Jill, until one of them gets into an argument with Chloe’s grandmother. That’s Chloe’s mom.
They were planning to see Flashdance. Jill is dressed like the girl in the Flashdance poster, with her hair all curly and the sweatshirt with one bare shoulder sticking out. Jill’s mom keeps pulling the sweatshirt up and Jill keeps pulling it down.
They’re arguing about Flashdance.
“Mom, you said we could.”
“You forgot to mention it’s rated R.”
“I didn’t know. I swear. Anyway, it’s fine. We’re here with you. You’re an adult.”
“It is not fine. Even if I thought it was okay for you, which I don’t, I still have to call each of these girls’ parents.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes. I do. And if even one of them says no . . .”
“Mom . . .”
“I don’t think I have enough change to make all those calls.” (This was before everyone had cell phones.)
“Okay, forget Flashdance. We’ll see Risky Business.”
“No, we won’t. That one’s rated R, too. How about Mr. Mom. It’s PG.”
“As in Pretty Gross. Forget it. Thanks for wrecking my birthday, Mom.”
Suddenly it’s over. Chloe’s grandmother pushed the red button. Chloe can’t wait for her mom to get back from Bolivia so she can find out what happened that day. She’ll remind her mom what it’s like to be a twelve-year-old girl who wants to be treated like a grown-up.
I am such an idiot. “Best, Sean.” That’s it. It’s over. Why did Buzz have to text me?
It’s not Buzz’s fault. It’s my fault. I was doing something really important and I stopped paying attention. I am such an idiot. I just threw away my whole career because I was busy imagining myself singing at the Grammys. I am such an idiot.
Stefanie is buying a big ad in The Hollywood Reporter right now.
THERE IS NO DAN WELCH.
DAN WELCH IS SEAN ROSEN.
AVOID THEM BOTH.
Why didn’t I read it again before I sent it? I did read it again, but I was still thinking about the band. I used to read every word of Dan’s e-mails over and over and over before sending them. We got too confident. No. I got too confident. There is no Dan Welch.
I wanted to blame the computer, I wanted to blame my phone, I wanted to blame Stefanie, but there’s no one to blame except me. I got through dinner with my dad. I told him I wanted to watch the commercials so he wouldn’t mute them. I didn’t feel like talking. I didn’t have any ice cream. I don’t deserve ice cream.
I laid in bed for a long time, saying, “You are an idiot.” At some point I fell asleep.
I woke up in the morning, and for about twenty seconds I forgot. I started to go to my computer to check Dan Welch’s e-mail, but then I remembered “Best, Sean.” I didn’t even bother. Stefanie isn’t going to write back to him now that she knows he doesn’t exist. And I’m not in the mood for Collectibles Dan Welch.
I was in the kitchen eating cereal when my mom hurried in dressed in her uniform. She grabbed her lunch from the fridge, looked at me, and said, “What’s wrong?” She always knows.
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.” Fortunately she had to leave for work so she didn’t have time to do a complete investigation.
School was awful. Thanks to my stupid mistake, I’ll have to keep going. I had it all planned out. When we started shooting A Week with Your Grandparents, a tutor would come to my dressing room at the studio. I don’t know why I thought writers get dressing rooms.
Or else I would share a tutor with the actors playing Chris and Chloe. We wouldn’t be the same age, but the tutor would teach us all at the same time. It would be fun.
Or if I was too busy on the set every day, I would go to high school online. I’ve heard of some kids in show business who do that. That might be even better because you work at your own speed. Maybe I’d be able to do all four years of high school in four days. No. Four weeks. No. Four months. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter because my career is over, and I’m stuck going to school right here.
Realizing that was bad enough, but then at the end of the day we got our report cards. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I got a C in French. That has to be a mistake.
I went to see Mademoiselle Fou. She was sitting on her desk texting. She didn’t look up, even though I’m sure she heard me come in. She probably saw me too, but she acted like she didn’t. Finally I said, “Excuse me . . .”
“En français, s’il te plaît.” (“In French, please.”)
I pointed to the C on my report card and said, “Pourquoi?” (“Why?”) She looked at me for a second.
“Pourquoi pas?” (“Why not?”)
I got mad. I switched back to English. “Come on. I got an A on every single test.”
“Your grade is based both on tests and on class participation.”
“What are you talking about? You never call on me!!!”
“That’s not true, Gaston. I called on you and you couldn’t perform the reading exercise.”
“Marcel Proust?!! That’s crazy! You couldn’t have read it either.” I was about to say something else. Something worse. But instead I turned around and walked out of the classroom. She didn’t come after me. She didn’t have to. She won.
I was so mad I almost knocked over Matty, the custodian. I told him I was sorry and I just leaned against the wall for a minute to think.
Should I go back in there and tell her I’ll do Le Bistro again? She would probably change my grade. Brianna would be happy.
No. I can’t. I’ll take the C.
Leaving school, I was in a daze. I’ve never actually gotten beaten up (thank goodness), but this is probably what it feels like.
French is bad, but the worst is wrecking my own career. I’ve been working so hard, and things actually seemed to be going pretty well.
It’s true that nothing is happening yet with my big idea. But that was my decision. I never expected to start my career with a movie, but I actually loved working on it.
None of that matters now. My movie will never get made, and I’ll never get to try out my big idea. All because I wasn’t paying attention. Because I was doing two things at once. Because one of the two things was way less important than the other, but I didn’t act like it was.
When you get a text, you hear that sound, and you just drop whatever you’re doing. Even if it’s writing a letter to the Vice President of Production of a huge Hollywood studio asking her for more money for your movie. Maybe the “bannd” could have waited until Dan Welch finished what he was doing.
There were a lot of kids walking by, but I was just standing there. I couldn’t stop saying mean things to myself. Then I heard someone say, “Hey, Sean.”
I turned around. It was Ethan. I never heard him start a conversation before, but he picked a very good time. I thought about telling him what happened, since Ethan was almost Dan Welch and he’s the only person not in Hollywood who knows about A Week with Your Grandparents. I couldn’t. But I asked him if he wanted to go for a bike ride. We decided to meet back at school and we both went home to get our bikes.
chapter 38
My last bike got stolen. It was awful. You ride somewhere, you lock it up, then you come out and you go to where you left it, and it isn’t there. Then you start wondering if you forgot where you left it. You know you didn’t, but you start looking everywhere anyway. Then you finally face the fact. Someone stole it.
I loved that bike. It was a birthday present from my parents. I think it was really expensive. I need a bike because I ride all the time. My dad wanted to buy me the same bike again, but I wouldn’t let him. I would always be afraid it would get stolen. So we went to the police bike auction.
I was sort of hoping they’d have my stolen bike, but of course they didn’t. The only bike that was the right size for me was a girl’s bike. It wasn’t pink or anything. It just didn’t have that bar that goes between the seat and the handlebars.
I actually never rode a girl’s bike before, so I tried it. It’s a good bike. Not super nice, like my old bike, but I like the way it rides. And I found out it’s actually easier getting on and off a girl’s bike.
My dad said he could buy me a new bike, but I told him I liked this one. We got it for $23. Besides saving money, this bike has built-in robbery insurance. I don’t know for sure, but I bet most bikes are stolen by boys, and the kind of boy who would steal a bike is the kind of boy who would never, ever ride a girl’s bike. I don’t have to worry about this bike.
Ethan was already at school when I got there. I was waiting to see if he was going to say something about me having a girl’s bike. He didn’t. We took a long ride around our town. Even though we didn’t talk very much, it took my mind off everything bad that happened.
I had to pee, and we were pretty far away from my house. “Hey, Ethan . . . where do you live?” He told me the name of the street. It wasn’t far. I asked if I could use his bathroom. We were near an alley between some buildings, and Ethan pointed and said, “You could just go over there.”
I said, “Actually . . . I don’t like doing things like that.” He looked at me for a second. Ethan and I don’t know each other very well, but I guess he figured out that he wasn’t going to talk me into it, so he turned his bike around and said, “Follow me.”
His house looks pretty much like mine, just a normal, not very big house. There was a car in the driveway. We went inside. It was kind of dark. I saw someone hurry out of the living room into the kitchen. I think it must have been his mom, but I couldn’t really see her.
Ethan pointed me to the bathroom. I don’t like to be nosy, but . . . Okay, I do sort of like to be nosy, but I try not to be too obvious about it. Looking around the house, and around the bathroom when the door was shut, I got kind of a weird feeling. I know Ethan’s family moved to our town just a little while ago, but it looks like they never really moved in.
There aren’t a lot of boxes around, but this house just doesn’t look like a place where a family lives. They have chairs and tables and other furniture that families have, but nothing on the walls.
After I was done in the bathroom I saw a picture. It was a kid holding a trophy. I said to Ethan, “Is that you?” He said no, and he kind of hurried me out of the house. I never saw his mom or whoever ran out of the living room. Ethan got back on his bike, and I had to pedal fast to catch up to him.
We rode for a little while, then we stopped near that waterfall that isn’t actually a waterfall. It was quiet for a while, just the sound of the water. I wanted to ask Ethan about his family, but I didn’t know what question to ask.
I was still thinking about it when Ethan stood up. He got on his bike, said, “See you in school,” then he rode off. I sat there for a few more minutes.
I was glad that neither of my parents was home. My mom would have continued the questioning from this morning, and even my dad would have known I wasn’t feeling very good. I’m not saying that my dad doesn’t usually care how I feel. He does. But he never tries to talk me out of feeling bad. He knows people feel bad sometimes.
I grabbed a cookie and some pretzels and some lemonade and I went to my room. I tried to look at Facebook and I couldn’t. I tried playing Ricochet Roulette and I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I went back to my computer and looked at Dan Welch’s e-mail account. He had a new e-mail.
To: Dan Welch Management
From: Stefanie V. President
OMG!!! Dan, I am so, so sorry. Thank you for contacting me. I swear to you on my infant daughter’s extremely soft head, I did not see that contract. Please apologize to Sean. Ask him to pretend it didn’t happen. Give me a couple of days, and business affairs will get back to you with something I’m sure you and Sean will be happy with. We don’t want to lose him.
Gotta go. Marisa’s hungry. Again. I can’t even tell you.
By the way, it’s hilarious that you signed your e-mail “Sean.” I’ve been doing that a lot lately, too. I sign things with my husband’s name, my mother’s name, and just yesterday, “Esmeralda.” She’s the baby nurse.
But I recently expelled another human being from my body. What’s your excuse?
❤ S
Dan’s excuse is that Sean was busy imagining himself singing with a bannd in a stadium.
And guess what? That actually was a terrible deal they offered me. I guess Stefanie really didn’t know before Dan told her.
I feel like I should write to Martin Manager to thank him for telling me I could get more. He was totally right. Unfortunately, I got the feeling from his e-mail that I shouldn’t write to him again.
Stefanie actually thought it was funny that Dan signed his e-mail “Sean.”
I can’t believe it. I’m relieved, but I don’t exactly feel happy. More like dizzy.
I wonder if I just used up all my good luck for the rest of the year. Or the rest of my life.
Okay, what did I learn from all this?
I have no idea. It was a horrible nineteen hours. I still think I was an idiot for not paying attention to what I was doing, but I’m glad my career isn’t over. I don’t know what’s going on with Ethan’s family, but it made me think there are worse things in life than a movie not getting made. But I’m really glad my movie is getting made.
chapter 39
Thank goodness it’s a long weekend and nothing is going to happen in the next few days. Business affairs is working on our new Option Agreement, but I’m sure I won’t get it right away.
I think Dan Welch would tell me to take a break from thinking about the movie. But he knows me pretty well and knows I probably can’t. So he’d say, “Okay, then stop thinking about the Option Agreement and start thinking about the story.” I actually think that’s a good idea, because when I ask myself questions about the characters, I don’t always know the answers.
Like for example, I don’t know Chris and Chloe’s parents’ names. When they’re in the middle of nowhere together in Bolivia, they have to call each other something. I wonder if they use each other’s real names or if they’re the kind of parents who call each other Honey or Pumpkin.
Chloe and Chris’s mom wouldn’t let anyone call her Pumpkin, even her husband. She likes people to use her real name, which is . . . Jill. It’s a good thing she’s not married to my dad, for two reasons. First of all, my dad doesn’t call anyone by their real name. His three best friends are Turch, LeDuke, and Foul Shot.
The second reason is my dad’s name is Jack. I don’t like movies where the characters’ names are a joke, like Jack and Jill. If you want it to feel real, they have to have real names. Chris and Chloe’s dad’s name is Steve.
I want this movie to feel like something that could actually happen. I know that grandfathers don’t invent virtual reality time machines every day, but I believe that Chris and Chloe’s grandfather did. And maybe your grandparents actually are way more interesting than you ever thought they were.
That makes me think about my grandparents. I don’t know anything about my mom’s father. Maybe he invented something. I’m going to ask Mary Lou, Mom’s mother, when I see her this weekend. Maybe she invented something.
I got back to thinking about the movie. Sometimes when I’m thinking hard, it looks like I’m staring at whatever is right in front of me, but I’m not. My eyes are open and my head is pointed in that direction, but my brain is looking at whatever I’m thinking about.
Like right now, I’m facing one of those posters I’m going to take down before my next Skype meeting, but what I’m seeing is the house where Jill, Steve, Chris, and Chloe live. It’s bigger and more modern than ours. So when Chris and Chloe go to their grandparents’ house, it feels very old-fashioned to them.
Then there’s Chris’s cheerleader girlfriend, Sabrina (thank you, Ethan). During the whole week with his grandparents, Sabrina is constantly calling and texting Chris. He used to like that, but now he notices the things she talks about. When you’re away from home, nothing at your school sounds very important.
Part of it is that Chris has been spending a lot of time with his grandmother, who always wants to help mankind. He can’t imagine Sabrina doing that unless it might help her get into a good college or get her picture in the paper. It makes him think.
What about Chloe? What happens on her other trips to the past?
Back at home, Chloe is frustrated because she’s twelve, and her mom still treats her like a little girl. She can’t go to the mall with her friends unless a parent is with them the whole time. Worst of all, Chloe isn’t allowed to be on Facebook. You’re supposed to be thirteen, but every one of Chloe’s friends has an account. Chloe wants to go back in time to see what her mom was like when she was twelve. But her mom isn’t there to spit on the slide.
Chris, who’s pretty good at science, says, “Aren’t there other ways to get Mom’s DNA? She kissed us good-bye. Maybe some of her DNA is still on our faces.”
“Wait!” Chloe runs upstairs and gets her hat. Her mom borrowed it last winter and Chloe finally took it back because her mom didn’t need it in Bolivia. She pulls a hair from the hat and hands it to Grandpa. “This one is definitely Mom’s. I don’t have those roots.”
Grandpa isn’t sure the machine will work with hair because he always used spit, but he’ll try. He sets the machine for the date of Chloe’s mom’s twelfth birthday.
Chloe climbs into the machine. We see what she sees, which is very blurry, and we hear what she hears, which sounds like people talking under water. It’s because the machine isn’t used to working with hair. Outside, Grandpa is turning knobs and pushing buttons. Finally the green lights come on.
Inside, everything is now clear. Chloe is at a multiplex, which is show-business language for a movie theater that shows a lot of different movies. Every movie theater is like that now, but in 1983, only some movie theaters were multiplexes. I looked it up.
Chloe sees a bunch of twelve-year-old girls she doesn’t recognize, and a woman who looks kind of familiar. It’s Jill’s mom, Chloe’s other grandmother. She’s taking the girls to the movies for Jill’s birthday. Chloe can’t figure out which girl is Jill, until one of them gets into an argument with Chloe’s grandmother. That’s Chloe’s mom.
They were planning to see Flashdance. Jill is dressed like the girl in the Flashdance poster, with her hair all curly and the sweatshirt with one bare shoulder sticking out. Jill’s mom keeps pulling the sweatshirt up and Jill keeps pulling it down.
They’re arguing about Flashdance.
“Mom, you said we could.”
“You forgot to mention it’s rated R.”
“I didn’t know. I swear. Anyway, it’s fine. We’re here with you. You’re an adult.”
“It is not fine. Even if I thought it was okay for you, which I don’t, I still have to call each of these girls’ parents.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes. I do. And if even one of them says no . . .”
“Mom . . .”
“I don’t think I have enough change to make all those calls.” (This was before everyone had cell phones.)
“Okay, forget Flashdance. We’ll see Risky Business.”
“No, we won’t. That one’s rated R, too. How about Mr. Mom. It’s PG.”
“As in Pretty Gross. Forget it. Thanks for wrecking my birthday, Mom.”
Suddenly it’s over. Chloe’s grandmother pushed the red button. Chloe can’t wait for her mom to get back from Bolivia so she can find out what happened that day. She’ll remind her mom what it’s like to be a twelve-year-old girl who wants to be treated like a grown-up.
