Me and Miranda Mullaly by Jake Gerhardt

handsome,” she said. “Our little boy is growing up.”
    I shook my head and looked down at my coffee.
    â€œSo,” Cassandra continued, sipping her coffee, “which lucky girl will be your dancing partner tonight?”
    The intoxicating beauty of the bow tie and the thought that soon I’d be dancing with Miranda had the effect of eroding my defenses.
    â€œOnce I’m finished with my student council duties, then I’ll have a dance, time permitting, with Miranda Mullaly.”
    I couldn’t believe I had said it and felt myself blushing. Before they could pursue a line of questioning about Miranda, I quickly changed the subject to international affairs.
    We were all in high spirits when Neal and Cassandra dropped me off at the dance. Cassandra even gave me a kiss and Neal shook my hand after I jumped out of the car. For the first time in a long while, I felt elated. Even though I’d be working the check-in alone with Mr. Porter and his wife, Polly, just knowing I’d be dancing with Mirandabefore the night was through made it all worthwhile.
    I happily whistled a romantic tune as I entered the school, imagining Miranda’s certain surprise earlier that day when she opened the candy-gram I had sent her. I felt very confident about the note I had attached to the heart-shaped lollipop:
    She was a Phantom of
delight
    When first she gleam’d upon my sight;
    A
lovely Apparition, sent
    To be a moment’s ornament.
23
    Looking forward to seeing you at the dance.
    Before she resigned from the student council, Miranda, the
wunderkind
, 24 had organized everything down to the last detail. So the only thing I had to do was shake hands with Mr. Porter and his wife, check in the student body, and wait to see Miranda.
    â€œI’ve heard a lot about you,” Polly said as I sat down beside her.
    â€œOh, that’s nice,” I said, pretending to read the list ofstudents who had bought tickets. I had no desire to engage in any inane conversation.
    â€œOh, yes, Barry, or should I say Mr. Porter, ha-ha, is very impressed with your work on the student council. Of course, who wouldn’t be impressed with an eighth-grader who carries a briefcase?”
    Part of me wanted to tell Mrs. Polly Porter that I carry a briefcase because I take my education seriously. And I carry a briefcase in a feeble attempt to bring up the standards at Penn Valley. But I opted to daydream about my dance with Miranda instead of indulging Polly.
    â€œAnd I adore your bow tie!”
    At this point I would have simply excused myself, but I did not want to miss Miranda’s entrance. Fortunately for me, students began to arrive, so Polly had something to do besides ask me questions and comment on my life.
    I got right to work, happy to let the time pass as I checked in the students. And I noticed that some snow was beginning to fall outside. This was perfect, for I hoped to go to Miranda’s house first thing in the morning if it snowed to help her father shovel his walk. What more could a girl ask for in a boyfriend?
    Sam Dolan, the dolt, signed in with me. Sharon was with him, and she was good enough to ask if she could assist me. Obviously, all the manners (and talent) had skippedright past Sam and settled into Sharon. As Polly tried to find where the letter D could possibly be, I politely chatted with Sharon about the musical and she very kindly complimented my new bow tie.
    I gave Sam the once-over. But I didn’t have time for Sam and even waved off Knuckles and Moose, allowing him to go into the gym unmolested. I didn’t even ask him why he was wearing a big Band-Aid on his face.
    Moments later Chollie Muller entered the lobby, smiling like a madman.
    â€œHey, Duke, thanks for the nice article in the school newspaper. I felt really bad about the game until I read that. It cheered me up.”
    Just the thought of Ralph Waldo rewriting my newspaper article raised my blood pressure. If