can’t keep my eyes from the clock. Come on. Come on. I need this to happen now .
I hear the faint sound of an airplane motor and see the first glints of gold paper drift to the ground.
The lunch bell still hasn’t rung. We’ve got five minutes.
“Dude, you guys have gotta see this.” Some kid points outside.
That does it. In about two minutes, the entire student body is gathered in front of the school, staring at the plane, reading the banner. I’m impressed. They even made it with a little bit of gold glittery stuff in loopy letters.
Thou Shalt Not Use Student Funds for Elitist Events
The bell rings. Nobody cares. The golden papers pass through kids’ hands. Someone hands me one. “Check out the Commandments. That’s just sweet .”
I try to find Josh in the crowd, but it’s impossible. Everybody’s talking about the Commandments. Some kid laughs out loud. “‘Thou Shalt Revere Napoleon Dynamite as Our True God.’”
“I don’t get it,” another kid says, pointing to the ND reference.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Dude, this one about not cussing in pig Latin, gibberish, or Klingon kills me.”
The Commandments, the message . . . everything works.
Perfect timing.
We’re finally herded to class after Principal Holohan screeches at us in his megaphone. In last block, Government, Mr. Sullivan talks to us about student manifestations and the power of movements—how misguided they can be. He reads us a story about the Third Wave, an experiment where a history teacher used his students as guinea pigs, getting them to believe in a made-up movement.
But Babylonia isn’t made up or invented. It’s real. I can see the excitement in everyone’s eyes.
The last bell rings, and I exhale. I’ve been waiting for the office to call me down since I arrived. Nobody’s called. Nobody’s looking for me. Nobody knows who Babylonia is.
We weren’t caught.
Seth comes up to me. “Can you believe today? It’s like newspaper porn.” He holds the Commandments in his hands. “Other than the banner, I particularly like ‘Thou Shalt Consider Study Hall the Sabbath and Nap.’”
I laugh. “‘The Student Council Is Synonymous with Bourgeois.’” I point a finger at him, smiling.
“Don’t look at me,” Seth says, holding his hands up in surrender. “But this is something big. Real big. There’s going to be a special PB & J next week. You up for funding?”
“Absolutely,” I say.
“Catch you tomorrow, then, at Josh’s place. Divisional playoffs party.”
That’s news to me.
I swallow back that left-out feeling, thinking that as soon as this day is over, I’ll probably sleep until Monday. It’s probably a guy thing—watching the games at Josh’s house.
I stand in the middle of the hallway. Kids stream around me. I’m untouchable—even after today. Totally invisible.
Then he bumps into me. “Are you trying to defy mob laws of physics?” Josh asks.
“No. No. It’s, um—”
“Standing in the middle of this place will get you killed.” He pulls me to the side of the hall. We lean against the gray lockers. “You’re a genius. I could kiss you.”
Do! But I resist the urge to pucker. “I didn’t have time to ask you if it was okay,” I say, trying to keep from turning to a puddle of goo in his arms. The hallways have cleared.
“Genius,” Josh mutters. I silently swoon. “And the Commandments. Fallen Commandments. You’re brilliant.”
“I dunno. I kind of feel bad because some kids actually saved money to go on the ski trip. A girl in my physics class was pretty bummed. Sixty bucks down the tubes. They’re getting screwed here.”
Josh shrugs. “They played into the elitism, you know. They could’ve protested and said they wanted something for everybody.” He’s so sure of everything. So right .
“Most probably weren’t thinking like Gandhi. We’re only in high school.”
“So that’s an excuse to not think?”
I can’t help but believe that we’ve made a
I hear the faint sound of an airplane motor and see the first glints of gold paper drift to the ground.
The lunch bell still hasn’t rung. We’ve got five minutes.
“Dude, you guys have gotta see this.” Some kid points outside.
That does it. In about two minutes, the entire student body is gathered in front of the school, staring at the plane, reading the banner. I’m impressed. They even made it with a little bit of gold glittery stuff in loopy letters.
Thou Shalt Not Use Student Funds for Elitist Events
The bell rings. Nobody cares. The golden papers pass through kids’ hands. Someone hands me one. “Check out the Commandments. That’s just sweet .”
I try to find Josh in the crowd, but it’s impossible. Everybody’s talking about the Commandments. Some kid laughs out loud. “‘Thou Shalt Revere Napoleon Dynamite as Our True God.’”
“I don’t get it,” another kid says, pointing to the ND reference.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Dude, this one about not cussing in pig Latin, gibberish, or Klingon kills me.”
The Commandments, the message . . . everything works.
Perfect timing.
We’re finally herded to class after Principal Holohan screeches at us in his megaphone. In last block, Government, Mr. Sullivan talks to us about student manifestations and the power of movements—how misguided they can be. He reads us a story about the Third Wave, an experiment where a history teacher used his students as guinea pigs, getting them to believe in a made-up movement.
But Babylonia isn’t made up or invented. It’s real. I can see the excitement in everyone’s eyes.
The last bell rings, and I exhale. I’ve been waiting for the office to call me down since I arrived. Nobody’s called. Nobody’s looking for me. Nobody knows who Babylonia is.
We weren’t caught.
Seth comes up to me. “Can you believe today? It’s like newspaper porn.” He holds the Commandments in his hands. “Other than the banner, I particularly like ‘Thou Shalt Consider Study Hall the Sabbath and Nap.’”
I laugh. “‘The Student Council Is Synonymous with Bourgeois.’” I point a finger at him, smiling.
“Don’t look at me,” Seth says, holding his hands up in surrender. “But this is something big. Real big. There’s going to be a special PB & J next week. You up for funding?”
“Absolutely,” I say.
“Catch you tomorrow, then, at Josh’s place. Divisional playoffs party.”
That’s news to me.
I swallow back that left-out feeling, thinking that as soon as this day is over, I’ll probably sleep until Monday. It’s probably a guy thing—watching the games at Josh’s house.
I stand in the middle of the hallway. Kids stream around me. I’m untouchable—even after today. Totally invisible.
Then he bumps into me. “Are you trying to defy mob laws of physics?” Josh asks.
“No. No. It’s, um—”
“Standing in the middle of this place will get you killed.” He pulls me to the side of the hall. We lean against the gray lockers. “You’re a genius. I could kiss you.”
Do! But I resist the urge to pucker. “I didn’t have time to ask you if it was okay,” I say, trying to keep from turning to a puddle of goo in his arms. The hallways have cleared.
“Genius,” Josh mutters. I silently swoon. “And the Commandments. Fallen Commandments. You’re brilliant.”
“I dunno. I kind of feel bad because some kids actually saved money to go on the ski trip. A girl in my physics class was pretty bummed. Sixty bucks down the tubes. They’re getting screwed here.”
Josh shrugs. “They played into the elitism, you know. They could’ve protested and said they wanted something for everybody.” He’s so sure of everything. So right .
“Most probably weren’t thinking like Gandhi. We’re only in high school.”
“So that’s an excuse to not think?”
I can’t help but believe that we’ve made a
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