I wish I’d gotten to hang out with her, and I hope she wasn’t disappointed, but it all feels like a long time ago. I look down at the microphone lying on my floor and remember the song and that feels like a long time ago too, almost like a dream. Then I remember the crazy swearing lyrics and that seems like some other person, like watching a character like me in a movie. I wonder what Keenan thought of it but there is no text back from him or any emails and so I get up and put on my sweatpants and hoodie for Fat Class. Downstairs Mom and Dad are up like they always are because they have forgotten how to sleep in. I am never going to let that happen. For them, the weekend has schedules to be kept, order to be maintained. There are strawberries and blueberries, nonfat vanilla yogurt and scrambled egg whites and salsa. I grab some and sit on the couch, where Dad is watching one of his favorite shows, Fatal Storms!, on the Disaster Channel. He loves anything about science and specifically all the ways that nature is going to kill us.
