Free My Awesome/Awful Popularity Plan by Seth Rudetsky Page A

felt flattered he called my sense of humor amazing.
    He looked at me intently. I thought about his reservations. No matter what, it was true that this Chuck/Becky charade
was
going to be life-altering. The only problem was, it could change my life for the better or, if Spencer was right, screw everything up because the universe doesn’t like tricksters. Even though Spencer’s New Age babbling often gave me a headache, I knew he had my best interests at heart. Maybe meditating on it would help me arrive at the right way to proceed. As well as give my face the attractive “at peace” look that Spencer often gets after an hour of chanting.
    I sighed. “Put on the DVD.” I figured I could watch the whole thing and still make the dinner date with Chuck. (And Becky.)
    Spencer jumped up and turned on the brand-new TV he’d won in a raffle for the World Wildlife Fund.
    I vowed to myself that this meditation DVD watching would be different. Normally, what would happen is this:Spencer would talk me into watching a New Age DVD with him, I’d tell him to pause it for “just one minute” so I could tell him a quick story, and soon he’d forget about the DVD and wind up being my audience as my “quick story” segued into me lip-synching along with a Broadway CD. We sat cross-legged on his vegan rug, Spencer pushed PLAY, and the yogi began instructing us to breathe and clear our minds. After thirty seconds, I resisted the urge to tell Spencer who I think should host the Tony Awards this June (every Tony winner from the last ten years—how cool would that be?) and tried instead to focus on the yogi’s instructions.
    Clear my mind. Clear my mind.…
    Pouting mouth, white-as-snow teeth …
    AH! Clear my mind. Clear my mind.…
    Piercing blue eyes, straight nose …
    Clear it!
    Sandy-blond longer-than-average hair …
    Forget it. It was no use. I kept clearing, but Chuck kept infiltrating … and, quite frankly, I liked it! I didn’t want to clear Chuck out of my mind. I wanted him there in residence. After ten minutes, I opened my eyes and caught a glimpse of myself in the glass of the cabinet that held the DVD player. Yowtch! I was decidedly unimpressed by what today’s nervous sweat had done to my hair. I made an emergency decision to tiptoe out so I could sneak into the bathroom and use some of Spencer’s mom’s grooming supplies. I wanted to get my hair looking less ’fro before my Chuck encounter.
    Let’s see … open eyes, look slightly to left … now turn head … and … yes! Spencer looked to be completely out of it. Perfect.
    I got up quietly and started sneaking toward the master bathroom.
    Suddenly, I heard a voice that was not the yogi’s.
    “Justin, I know you’re leaving.”
    Busted. I turned around.
    He continued. “Just because I’m relaxed doesn’t mean I’m in a coma.” He had on his disappointed-grandfather face. “Listen.” He got up and walked over to the TV and turned it off. “I wouldn’t feel so strongly if I hadn’t gone through the same thing with Mr. DelVecchio.”
    That
again?
    Mr. D, as everyone called him, was our ninth-grade English teacher. He was everyone’s favorite teacher, but Spencer loved him in a “You’re my teacher/​father/​best friend” sort of way. Mr. D had just graduated college and was
so
different from all the other teachers in school. He ate only locally grown food, played six-string guitar in a band, and was an actual pagan. Instead of assigning us written reports, he encouraged us to do videos, or PowerPoint presentations, or, in my case, musical numbers.
    Mr. D was always willing to stay after school to talk about problems you were having in class or with other kids. It was great to have a teacher who was like a friend, but I think Spencer thought they actually
were
friends. It’s not like Spencer hada crush on him; I just think he was a little needy because his dad had recently moved out. It must be hard having your parents not living