Leo went to the audition. He got the part. And somewhere, probably in a different CVS parking lot, Nansy smiled, opened her notebook, and wrote a new line: Phase two: The senior center break-in. For fun, of course.
The masterpiece, though, was day seven. Nansy decided our local “haunted” mini-golf course was boring, so she staged a fake alien invasion. Armed with laser pointers, a fog machine stolen from the school’s drama department, and a recording of dial-up internet static, she coordinated us via walkie-talkies. We were the “Men in Black” (minus the suits) while she piloted a cardboard UFO from the roof of her minivan. The teenagers working the course actually screamed. The manager called the police. We escaped through a drainage ditch, Nansy leading the charge, her orthopedic sneakers squelching in the mud. teen funs nansy
“That,” she panted, leaning against a dumpster behind a CVS, “is what I call teen funs.” Leo went to the audition
Maya replied instantly: Fake an alien invasion. For fun, of course
Then she pulled out a jar of pickles and a can of whipped cream. “Pickleback sundae, anyone?” We groaned, but we ate it. It was disgusting. It was perfect.