Lena’s nose wrinkled. “I dunno. Does everything have to be, like, a musical? What about a Beyoncé video?”
“Sure,” I said, even though my knowledge of Beyoncé videos was limited to the one where she pranced around in a leotard and waved her hand to flash her ring.
“And what about the girls who can’t sing?” asked Mary.
“We could do skits. Like a parody of Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?”
Aubrey looked impressed. “You know that show?”
I frowned. “Dude. I’m old, not dead.” I forked my fingers, fake-gangsta-style. “I’m A-Dub, bitch!”
“I’m ancient,” said Mary, who did not sound upset, as she began to sing. “Gonna take a sentimental gurney . . . Gonna set my heart at ease . . . Gonna ride that gurney down to detox . . . Hope they don’t have bedbugs or fleas . . .”
“Oh, my God, we need to do one about Ed McGreavey!” I said as I joined in the other girls’ applause. “Do you guys know Les Miz?”
“It’s about French revolutionaries,” said Shannon. “And there’s a love triangle . . .”
“And this horrible innkeeper, who puts cat meat in the stew, and overcharges for everything, and steals from the patrons.”
“Does he have fake hair?” asked the Ashley.
“Probably. He’s a revolting human being who takes advantage of the needy,” said Shannon.
“That’s our boy,” said Lena, who’d spent more time with Ed than the rest of us combined.
“Master of the house!” I sang. My voice wasn’t as strong as Shannon’s, but at least I could carry a tune. “Quick to catch your eye! Never wants a passerby to pass him by. Servant to the poor! Butler to the great! Hypocrite and toady and inebriate!” I set down my pen, considering. “Wow. We don’t even really need to change it.”
“What’s an inebriate?” asked one of the girls.
“A drunk.”
“Didn’t Ed do meth?” asked Aubrey.
I shrugged, but Lena was nodding. “Oh, yeah. He came back here weighing eighty pounds and missing all his teeth. He shows a picture at the lecture.”
“Not the one about finding your purpose?” I’d seen that already, and I was certain that if a shot of Ed weighing eighty pounds and minus teeth had been on offer, I’d have remembered it.
“No, no, he does another one. It’s called ‘Finding Your Bottom,’ ” said an Ashley.
I burst out laughing. Mary was laughing, too. “What?” Lena asked.
“ ‘Finding Your Bottom’?” Aubrey asked. “My grandmother always used to say that someone was so stupid he couldn’t find his own ass with both hands and a flashlight.”
“How did Ed find his bottom?” Shannon asked. “Where did Ed find his bottom?”
“He was in San Francisco, giving blow jobs for drug money,” said Lena.
“As one does,” I murmured, and thought, again, how different I was from the drunks and druggies who populated this establishment, and how every anecdote, every personal revelation, every Share, was just another argument in favor of my not being here. Stick it out, I told myself.
“Hey,” I said. “Did you guys see the movie Pitch Perfect? or Mamma Mia? Think there’s anything there? Or, wait! Here’s one for Michelle: If you change your mind, I’m the first in line . . . I’m the one you’ll see . . . No one gets around me!”
“Gonna make some rules to break, have you pee in my cup,” sang a Xanax addict named Samantha, who’d wandered over to our table, drawn by the singing. “Gonna turn my flashlight on, gonna wake you up.”
“I think,” said a girl named Rebecca, who was so quiet that the most I’d heard her do was announce her name in Share, “that we should do a skit about applying to work here. Like, ‘Do you have a heartbeat?’ ”
“Have you been to college?” asked Mary. “No? Do you know what college is?”
“This is never going to happen,” said Lena.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because!” She rolled her eyes. “Do you honestly think they’re going to sit here and let us make fun of them? They’re stupid, but they’re not complete idiots.”
“So we don’t tell them,” I said. “We’ll just spread the word quietly. We’ll tell everyone that we’re holding a talent show in the cafeteria during Meditation after lunch on Saturday.” And then, I thought, when the staffers inevitably got wind of what was going on and hurried to shut it down, I’d stroll out to the parking lot, cool as Captain von Trapp facing down the Nazis, and let Dave drive me to Ellie’s party.