Read Online Ruby Unscripted by Cindy Martinusen Coloma - Free Book Online Page A

exciting.”
    â€œYeah, probably not.” The way she says that sounds just a touch snobbish, and I hope she doesn’t mean it.
    â€œSo you’re in student government?”
    â€œYes. Both of my parents were in student gov at this school. My dad is thinking of running for Congress next term. He’s so political, but international bankers make much more money than government officials, so he has his strategy. I’ve been very encouraged to do politics, to the point of insistent encouragement. But I actually enjoy it. I’m considering political science for my major in college.”
    â€œInteresting.”
    Lucinda waves as some students pass and gives a smile that I think will get her definite votes.
    â€œI’m supposed to ask what some of your interests are to help you find some groups or organizations. You know, get you plugged into the school quickly.”
    â€œI’m about as political as a . . . well, what’s the most nonpolitical thing in existence?”
    â€œEveryone is political, whether they admit it or not. But it’s a rare person who is actually politician material,” she says with a tinge of condescension.
    â€œI like art.”
    â€œWe have lots of art classes and art theory and art club. There’s also yearbook staff, the newspaper, and dozens of clubs, from the Che Guevara group to Vegans Today . . . but I don’t imagine you’d be interested in a lot of those. Are you interested in filmmaking? That’s a big thing here.”
    â€œWell, yeah, maybe. I think some of the students hold a Premiere Night at my aunt’s coffeehouse. I just started working there. The Underground—do you know it?”
    â€œAh sure, cool place. Did you say you work there?”
    â€œYeah.”
    Lucinda doesn’t respond to that, just files it away with political smoothness. At home, most older teenagers have part-time jobs, but I wonder what it’s like here where money is less of an issue.
    â€œI’ll introduce you to some of the filmies.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œOkay, so you’ll be here Monday?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œThen I’ll meet you right here at eight o’clock.”
    â€œGreat.”
    â€œOff to my debate club.” She smiles warmly and squeezes my arm. “You’ll like it here, Ruby. I’ll make sure you do.”
    â€œThanks, Lucinda.”
    â€œIf you need anything, call me at this number.” She hands me a small CD thingie.
    â€œWhat is this?”
    â€œPut it in your laptop, and it’ll pop up with all my information. It also has info about me running for junior class president. See you Monday.”
    I find Mom standing in the doorway of Mr. James’s office, taking steps away, being drawn back, and finally breaking free with a look of relief on her face. “That was hard.”
    â€œWhat was?”
    â€œGetting away from Mr. James.”
    We recite Mr. James quotes on the walk back to the car.
    â€œYou will just love this school,” I say with enthusiasm.
    â€œOur school has one of the highest academic ratings in not just the state of California but the nation as well.”
    â€œI think Mr. James is reliving his high school experience,” Mom says in the voice she uses when she and Aunt Jenna do their people-watching/story-making game.
    â€œNot reliving, recreating. I think he was a painfully awkward teenager.”
    We both laugh at that, and then Mom feels guilty for making fun of my school guidance counselor and says what a nice man Mr. James is and certainly an asset to the students who have him. “But you know,” she says as we open the car doors, “Carson wouldn’t have fit here at all.”
    That makes us silent. Neither of us speaks the entire drive home.

    Once in my room, which is still a maze of boxes, I dial Carson’s number. My friends are in school, but Carson gets out early for work experience. His voice mail