HughTube

Chapter 4

Simon and I took our seats in Social Studies class, Simon sitting right behind me. Ms. Knapp erased the white board as the rest of the students gradually settled in. Ms. Knapp always has a look on her face like everything about the world disappoints her, and that day was no different.

I turned around in my seat to talk to Simon. "How's your class project coming?"

"'The Eating Habits of the North American Teenager.' Pretty sad results. So far, fries are beating out raw vegies a hundred to one."

I snickered. "Don't forget, potatoes are vegetables too," I kidded him.

"True," Simon said slowly, realizing I was technically right.

"So is ketchup."

Simon started to wonder. "Maybe kids are eating healthy." He took some notes. "I've got to recalibrate my findings..."

Simon's class project was actually pretty easy for him. He worked at the school snack bar, and all he really had to do was keep track of what everybody ordered. But I was pulling his chain about the fries and ketchup. I mean really, you need to do a scientific study to figure out kids prefer junk food to some carrots and celery sticks? If that was my class project, I'd be done with it in a day.

Ms. Knapp tried to get everybody's attention. "Okay, settle down! Come on, let's go." She leaned forward on the back of her desk chair which caused her shoulders to hunch up, making her look even more world-weary than usual. "Now, before we get started, you all should know the Student Council elections are coming up. Sign-up sheets are in the office if any of you care to run. As we've been learning in class, the world of politics is by and large a festering cesspool, but I'll leave it up to you."

Then Ms. Knapp started her lecture about the War of 1812, so I won't bore you with that. But as usual, after about a minute of taking notes, my eyes and thoughts wandered. I was more interested in what my HughTube camera was picking up than some 200-year-old war.

And there was something worth shooting too: Molly MacLaine. She sat in the next row over, just a few seats ahead of me.

Molly is one of those people who has a style all her own. She doesn't wear expensive clothes or anything, she just knows what to wear that's right for her. Some other people know their styles too, whether it's preppy or grunge or '50's bowling shirt hip or whatever. They always seem to look right, even though they don't necessarily look good.

But me? What's my style? I, of course, have no style. Whatever I wear, no matter how I try, it always looks wrong. Just another part of life I don't get.

Molly tossed her hair in a casual way, and it took my breath away. She does her hair-flip thing a lot, never thinking a thing about it, but I guarantee I'm not the only boy in class who has to suck in a little gasp every time it happens.

I whispered some narration: "Molly flips her hair in her usual way. But is she just getting it out of her eyes... or trying to drive me crazy?"

Then Simon leaned in and whispered to me, "Hey, can you slow-mo that hair flip for HughTube?"

I tried to ignore Molly and Simon as I went back to taking notes on Ms. Knapp's War of 1812 lecture. It was something about the U.S. attacking Canada, but Canada wasn't even Canada yet. I think it was still England. Guess I should listen a little better next time, but hey, I was working on my class project, right?

At lunch, I hung around with Simon who was working at the snack bar. Across the room was the regular school cafeteria counter, but the snack bar had a longer line. Sometimes I wondered why they even kept the cafeteria open.

I nodded to the kids at the snack bar loading up on burgers and fries. "These kids could be eating real food over there," I said to Simon, pointing to the cafeteria, "but they choose to go for the junk. Don't you feel at all responsible?"

Simon shook his head. "This is my class project, remember? And they pay me."

I then noticed Trey Amaral across the room putting up a hand-painted poster with some friends: TREY AMARAL FOR STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT. "Of course Trey is running," I said to Simon.

Simon glanced over at another wall where Tanya DeLuca was hanging her own campaign poster: VOTE FOR TANYA! DELUCA FOR PRESIDENT! Tanya has always been the ultimate preppy, and she believed that getting a Student Council President win on her record was crucial for her eventual admission into the Ivy League school of her choice.

Simon nodded. "Ooo, that's gonna be a tight race."

I shook my head in disgust. "Why does it always have to be Trey and Tanya? The jock versus the preppy. And now Student Council President. I mean, why can't someone else get a shot once in a while?"

Simon sniffed a little laugh. "Yeah, maybe you should run," he said jokingly. "You gotta admit, it'd make a great HughTube episode."

I knew Simon was joking... but this got me thinking. I started to wonder, "You're right. Why not me?"

Simon looked up from salting some fries and stared at me. "Uh... you knew I was joking, right?"

"No, I mean it. Why can't I run for Student Council President?" Seriously, why couldn't I? Why shouldn't I? Where was it written that I somehow wasn't qualified to run, and those two supposedly were?

Simon stopped working and looked in my eye. "Well, you could run... and totally humiliate yourself. I say stick to what you're good at. Look at me." He gestured to his snack counter. "I'm good at food service. This may look like a stupid job to you, but I feel right at home."

Just then, the hulking Brad Reese walked up and slammed his hot dog down on the counter. "This hot dog is cold!"

Simon didn't skip a beat. "I'm sorry to hear that, sir. Here, have a fresh one," he said as he handed Brad a new hot dog in a bun.

Brad was instantly mollified. "Thanks," he said, a bit surprised as he took the new hot dog and left.

Simon turned back to me. "See? It just comes naturally to me."

"But you didn't know that until you got this job," I insisted. "I haven't discovered my 'calling' yet the way you have. Heck, that's why I came up with HughTube in the first place, to let me look at my life more objectively and help me find my path."

"Yeah, but Hugh," Simon said, "some things are just kind of obvious, aren't they?"

"To you, maybe, but not to me. I've got to try and fail at pretty much everything to see what's right for me. And thanks to HughTube, even if I fail, I'll learn a lot of important lessons. So... maybe I'll be good at being on the Student Council once I start doing it!"

"Well..." Simon said wryly, "first you gotta win."

I put both my hands confidently on the snack counter. "Let the campaign begin."

As I walked off with a smile, Simon shook his head and said to himself, "People love a good train wreck."