How to Be Popular

Lesson 5

What activities can you participate in to make yourself appear "cool"?

So there I was, sitting in a room full of losers, trying to write a song.

Well...Tom wasn't a complete loser, but as for the two G's... (I can't remember their names. I don't remember ugly people). They are both so weird! I swear, Tom couldn't have picked worse people for our band! When we arrived at the drummer's house (was his name Gary? I can't remember) they were dancing to the Pussycat Dolls!

"What the fuck?" I asked.

They turned off the music and had these big ass grins on their faces.

"HI!" They said in unison.

I rolled my eyes.

"Let's just get this over with."

Tom took out his guitar and quickly tuned it.

"Are we like ready because I want to get home: there is a new episode of Project Runway tonight and if I miss it someone's going to get bitch slapped."

The two G's laughed. I raised an eyebrow at them.

"Excuse me? Did I miss a joke or something?"

They stopped laughing. I sighed.

"Are you guys going to start playing before I get old?"

"What are we supposed to play?" Tom asked.

"I don't know! Tom , start playing on guitar. And then you two come in when you feel like it. Eventually I'll start singing if I like the beat."

"OK."

"Sounds good to me."

"Let's start."

An hour later Tom and I were leaving.

"Didn't we do good?"

I rolled my eyes.

"It will have to do."

"Your lyrics were amazing, by the way. 'Running through the monsoon.'"

"Please don't sing, Tom."

"Sorry."

He grabbed my hand as we walked home. It was only a block or two away, and it was a bit cold but other then that it was nice. I could see the stars. I looked at them and noticed an especially bright one. Tom looked up, too and smiled.

"Remember when we were younger and we used to wish on stars?"

I laughed.

"Yeah, we were so retarded."

Tom looked at me.

"What was so retarded about it?"

"I don't know! It just sounds stupid, to make a wish on a star. It's just a ball of gas that gives off light; how could it possibly grant a wish?"

"That's not the point. Just try it, please? For old times sake."

I sighed.

"OK. I wish that - "

"You're doing it wrong!"

I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever."

"Try it again."

"Ugh OK. Star bright star bright first star I see tonight, wish I may wish I might have the wish I wish tonight. I wish to one day be so popular that I am loved by millions of people."

Tom laughed.

"Shut up!" I yelled at him.

"I didn't say anything!" He replied.

"But you laughed."

"So, who cares?"

I glared at him.

"I mean sorry!"

I still glared at him. He kissed me.

"I'm sorry, I mean it."

I sighed.

"Oh, OK!"

We reached our house. But before I went in I looked up at the star one last time.

"Star bright, star bright, that is my wish for tonight."

By the time Valentines Day came along I think that our little band was pretty well prepared. At least I hope.

When I got to school, I opened my locker and a few hundred Valentines Day cards fell out. I looked around to see a lot of girls who walked past my locker giggling and blushing. Oh jeez...

Toms' locker was right next to mine, and I realized that he had the same problem.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with all of these?" he asked me.

I shrugged.

"I wonder if we can donate them," Tom suggested.

"To who? The poor?" I asked.

"Yeah...or losers," he replied.

"No. No loser should get an undeserved Valentine. However, if we give them to the poor homeless people they can use them as fuel for those little fires they make in garbage cans in the winter."

Tom laughed.

"Good idea."

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to see a group of girls holding out gifts, chocolate, and more Valentines cards.

"Bill!"

"Hi Bill!"

"Happy Valentines Day!"

"Will you go out with me?"

"Bill I love you!"

"Bill who are you taking to the Valentines Day dance?"

I just smiled at them all.

"I have to get to class, ladies. Sorry! Come on, Tom."

But when I looked over at him I saw that he also had a mini fan club giving him gifts. So annoying, but I guess that we all have to suffer for popularity.

At homeroom they passed out the carnations. I got 246. But only one really met one to me: the bright red one from Tom.

My teacher let Tom and I go to our lockers so that we could put some of the carnations in there.

"How many did you get?" I asked him.

"198." He had a smug look on his face which immediately disappeared when he discovered that I had gotten almost 50 more.

"I'm telling you, it's the dreads."

"What's wrong with my dreads?" He asked.

"Nothing!" I lied.

I kissed him quickly.

"Now let's get back to class, this is going to be a long day."