The Van Pact

23: Stevie

Jan finished editing the Big Aladdin video Sunday, which is when he uploaded it too. I wouldn't have known, except he sent fifteen (yes, FIFTEEN) breathless GroupMe messages about it. I was trying to go through my anatomy flash cards at the kitchen table while my bleary-eyed dad attempted to julienne red and green bell peppers for a stir-fry (this was a strange event. My dad's cooking is usually limited to frozen dinners and peas and carrots from cans). I ended up disabling my GroupMe notifications so that I could study in peace (at least until Dad nicked his finger and I had to finish the last pepper for him).

            On Monday morning, when Valerie casually told me in Gus that the video did better than she had expected, I figured it maybe broke a hundred views. I should have known better. Valerie is never casual about casual things, and contrariwise, if she's not wheezing enthusiastic about something, it's probably a big deal.

            It was when I got to AP Chem that I found out.

"Stevie!" Katie Pendurthi grinned when she saw me. "Jan's video! I didn't know you were so funny!" 

"You've seen it?" I slipped into my seat next to her.

            "After Valerie tweeted it, I think everybody at school has." Katie nodded. "It might go viral." I don't have a Twitter, and almost forgot that Val did. For a while in eighth grade she'd asked everybody she met to follow her. Last time I checked, she had about nine hundred followers. For a platform she uses maybe once a month. I can't even get Grandma Corrigan to accept my friend request on Facebook, and I watered her stupid plants every day while she was in Florida last June.

In the minute I had before Mr. Zhang would start lecture and ask us to put our phones away, I opened up YouTube. The Big Aladdin video had amassed five-thousand views overnight. It might actually get ten-thousand before the Internet forgets about it. I wasn't convinced we'd get an appearance on the Ellen show out of it. One of the ~cooler~ kids from our grade had already become a minor internet celebrity last year (for the sheer fact his face appealed to some randos on Twitter). As far as I'm concerned, celebrity is a zero-sum game. Our school had already cashed in it's karmically-allotted shot at fame on that kid. It's unheard of to get two famous people out of a middle American school like ours. Not that Jan would recognize that fact. He was probably planning on an invitation to VidCon now.

            "How did you feel about Jesse Niemczyk playing Aladdin, though?" Katie whispered. I slid my phone into my jeans pocket and looked at her uncomfortable smile.

            Oh shit. I thought. How do I answer this without revealing my heart's secret obsession? Does she ALREADY know my heart's secret obsession? Is it not a secret?

            "Fine," I said, itchy. I believe my chest and neck had broken out in hives.

            Katie turned her eyes to her notebook, as Mr. Zhang cleared his throat.

            "Yeah, I guess he does look better with his glasses off."

***

             Mr. Webb spent the first ten minutes of Anatomy searching the back closet for Old Grim Bones. He didn't say that's what he was looking for, but it was obvious. He muttered something about disinfectant and the janitor, Mr. Jake, "rearranging everything," but then Christy MacDonald questioned him about the test review. I think he realized he couldn't afford to waste any more class time on Grim Bones instead of teaching. We were an honors class, after all. The wrath of some of these tiger parents could be scary, I imagine, especially if they believe you're somehow threatening their child's shot at medical school.