High School Musical: The Road Trip Blog Tour: Excerpt + Giveaway

 

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL: THE ROAD TRIP by Melissa de la Cruz Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

 

HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL: THE ROAD TRIP
Author: Melissa de la Cruz
Release Date: May 4, 2021
Publisher: Disney-Hyperion
Formats: Hardcover, eBook
Pages: 272

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle, B&N, iBooks, Kobo, TBD, Bookshop.org

An original novel inspired by the hit Disney+ television series HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL: THE MUSICAL, by the #1 New York Times best-selling author of the Descendants series, Melissa de la Cruz.

Join everyone's favorite Wildcats from the Disney+ smash hit original series High school Musical: The Musical: The Series in this novel by New York Times bestselling author Melissa de la Cruz.

On the heels of their wildly successful run of High School Musical, the gang learns of a can't-miss opportunity—a High School Musical convention in the next state. There's something for everyone: panels about mounting your next hit show, cafeteria-tray-dance workshops, Wildcat cosplay, and even a special appearance from the pooch who played Sharpay's dog (well, one of her puppies, that is).

Ready to hit the road, the crew immediately begins making plans. Nini can't wait to use the weekend to show how much she cares for Ricky (especially since they just got back together). Kourtney debates signing up for a singing workshop (especially if she's maybe, just maybe, considering auditioning for the next show), and Gina and Ashlyn decide it'll be the perfect trial run for living together (especially because Gina has never actually had a friendship last this long). Carlos can't wait to help Miss Jenn prep for the spring musical, even if Seb has to stay behind to help with the family farm. But car breakdowns, late starts, and a lost E.J. throw a wrench in their plans. 

Will the East Highers get the weekend getaway of their dreams? Or will the bumps on the road get the better of them?

Praise For HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL: THE ROAD TRIP:

A breezy and fun read, the book contains chapters that offer pithy first-person accounts from each character, including quirky Miss Jenn; Carlos and his boyfriend, Seb; recently reunited couple Nini and Ricky and their BFFs, Kourtney and Big Red; popular senior E.J. and his songwriter cousin, Ashlyn; and talented triple threat Gina. The plot includes references to the series and themes straight from the musical: nurturing your talent, showing others how much they matter, and acknowledging the importance of teamwork. Although race isn’t mentioned overtly, the characters are cued as racially diverse, following the casting of the TV show. Fans will appreciate the inside jokes, but explanations in the text make it accessible even to those unfamiliar with the program.

A lighthearted and charming read.—Kirkus Reviews.

 CHAPTER ONE

CARLOS

Let me bring you up to speed.

High School Musical: The Musical—over. Huge success. HUGE. Kiss-and-cry backstage, then in the foyer with all our dumbstruck parents still waving their glitter signs and autographed programs, their hair crazy with Robotics Club confetti.

Cast-party time. Plan A is go crazy at Ashlyn’s—part deux—but cast + crew + hangers-on = way too many people. Wouldn’t want anything smashed, broken, or spilled. So Miss Jenn suggests we do what East High musical casts have always done: go to Denny’s on West 500th and pretend it’s a diner on the corner of Hollywood and Vine.

If we can make our school gym into a theater and a skateboarder into our star, then we can turn a Denny’s in Salt Lake City into Radio City Music Hall—especially when E.J.’s father is paying for all the milkshakes and onion rings.

We’re all there (in this together, right?) screeching and singing and making Miss Jenn do her Is that the last apple? line again when my phone dings. It’s not my sweet Seb, because he’s holding court nearby—still in his Sharpay makeup—reprising his big number with the help of some built-in plastic seating and E.J.’s knee.

It’s something much, much better. An HSM alert!

Picked out the colors for your dressing room yet?

One week till the HSM Convention in Jackson Hole!

What. The. Wildcats.

How did I miss this? I’ve been so consumed with our own show—choreography, drama, homecoming, Miss Jenn almost getting fired, the theater burning down, break-ups, make-ups, more drama, having to go on as a last-minute understudy and say things like bro—I haven’t been paying attention to my HSM alerts. I didn’t want to mess with the flow and now: Oh no!

“Miss Jenn.” I grab her arm and she twirls so fast she takes out half the basketball team with her mermaid waves. “We have to do this.”

She stares at my phone, her blue eyes wide.

“Next weekend?” she says, and pulls out her own phone. It has a green cover to remind her of when she was the understudy for Glinda in Wicked—I think it was in Peoria. Miss Jenn is pretty speedy with Google searches: You’d never guess she grew up in the old flip-phone days when people still used paper maps and never took pictures of their food.

“Panels,” she says, scrolling with one pink fingernail. “Vocal workshops. Choreography workshops. Cosplay. And . . . oh! Oh!”

“What is it, Miss Jenn?” She looks like she’s about to faint. That, or hyperventilate.

“Lucas Grabeel,” she whispers. “Lucas Grabeel is going to be there, in person. Not a dream, Carlos. Actually in person!”

“Um, a dream?” I ask, and Miss Jenn whips her phone away.

“I have to go.”

“Now?” There are more curly fries coming. Nobody leaves a party when curly fries are on the way.

“I mean, we have to go. To Jackson. Help me up.” Miss Jenn elbows Seb off his perch and waves her hands to get everyone’s attention. This doesn’t work.

“Hey! Everyone! Quiet!” E.J. shouts in his best captain-of-everything voice, but that also doesn’t work. Some of the chorus-line tap-dancing doesn’t work, though it does bring the manager out to ask us to “Mind the floors, kids.” And Gina leaping so high in the air she practically brushes the ceiling with her fingertips—no, that doesn’t work either.

Finally Kourtney clambers up next to Miss Jenn and starts singing “I Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” at the top of her voice. Everyone’s whooping and clapping and then Kourtney stops mid-line.

“Miss Jenn has something to say.”

“Speech! Speech!”

“Not a speech,” says Miss Jenn. I haven’t seen her face this pale since the day the principal wanted to fire her. “An opportunity. You know how I always say to trust the process?”

More clapping and whooping. We have to shush everyone all over again.

“Well, sometimes you have to trust providence as well. You have to trust fate. You have to trust that the universe will provide.”

“Has she got a Broadway callback or something?” Seb mutters in my ear.

“You’re not leaving, Miss Jenn?” calls Nini. It’s the first time she’s taken her eyes off Ricky since we got here.

“Not leaving, Nini. Going. We’re all going.”

“To Disneyland?” asks Big Red, and everyone laughs.

“To Jackson Hole,” Miss Jenn announces, and no one’s laughing or whooping now.

“Skiing?” someone says, but no one looks too enthusiastic. They’re all thinking about the curly fries, which are—let’s face it—more exciting than Miss Jenn’s announcement. She’s selling it the wrong way.

“You guys, wait!” I shout. “It’s a High School Musical convention—in Jackson Hole. Next weekend!”

Now everyone’s talking. People are practically bouncing off the walls. I wish they’d put this amount of energy into their dance rehearsals.

“It would be the most amazing thing ever,” Ashlyn says. “Meet-and-greets with some of the original cast and crew? Wow.”

“But how would we get there?” Natalie asks. I hope she’s not planning to bring her emotional-support hamster. The last thing we need is for that thing to escape in another state.

“Yeah,” says Ashlyn. “I mean, E.J. can drive because he’s old, but—”

“I can drive the school van,” says Miss Jenn. “Mr. Mazzara gets it all the time for his robotics whatnots. I’ll send permission slips to all your parents. I mean, they have to say yes. After seeing you all on the stage tonight—”

“Well, the gym,” says Natalie. “Strictly speaking.”

“It’ll be a theater field trip,” Miss Jenn continues. “A celebration of our amazing show. Research and nourishment for our creative souls.”

She starts wobbling on her high heels with excitement, and Ricky helps her down from the chair. He’s beaming so wide, his face almost splits in two.

“We have to make it happen,” he tells her, and the dog tag around his neck glints in the fluorescent light. Since when does Ricky Bowen wear necklaces?

“Do you think Principal Gutierrez will agree?” Nini asks. Her face is still shining from the night’s success. I mean, we did kill out there tonight. “Will we have to take time off school?”

“We really can’t,” Natalie tells Miss Jenn. “We have tests, and after school we have to rehearse every day.”

Natalie’s a killjoy, but she’s right. We’ve promised to do a charity show on Christmas Eve to raise money; we have to help rebuild the school’s burnt-out theater, after the fire that was (whisper) caused by Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara.

“And it will take us so long to get there,” Natalie says.

“Five hours,” E.J. reads from his phone. “That’s the driving time. It’s nothing. I’ve driven farther for archery lessons.”

“Plus two hours when we get stuck in the snow,” says Ashlyn. “You know, after the blizzard rolls in.”

“We’re driving a few hours north,” I tell her, “not taking the Donner Pass.”

“So we leave right after school next Friday,” says Miss Jenn, eyes fixed on some distant spot, as though she’s about to begin a power ballad. “And if we limit ourselves to one rest stop, we’ll make it in time for some of the opening sessions that night.”

“It ends on Saturday night,” Kourtney says, scrolling down the site that practically every one of us is reading right now. “That’s a shame. The final session is a group sing-along.”

“We don’t need to sing it,” Ricky agrees, grinning at Nini. “We just lived it.”

For someone who totally missed the boat on the phenomenon that is HSM—i.e., did not grow up watching it with his mom, singing it in the car, and reenacting dance moves on the down-low in our high school cafeteria—Ricky is all about it now. I used to think his feet were glued to his skateboard. Maybe it’s because being in the musical brought him and Nini back together, and he’s already thinking about

the spring musical and his next chance to stare into her eyes under the spotlight. He better watch out: E.J. may be over his selfless kick by then. Seniors in their last semester can get grabby with roles. They come over all sentimental about leaving school and this being their Last Chance Ever. Ricky should be on his guard. I mean, hasn’t he seen HSM3?

Miss Jenn mutters something about going back to work right away to e-mail all our parents and break into the admin office to book the van. I hope she’s joking about that last part. She’s out the door before we can stop her.

“There’s even a songwriting workshop,” Ashlyn says to no one in particular, smiling at her phone. “I have to do that. I have to.”

“I don’t see any stage-makeup workshops,” Kourtney says, and Nini mock-punches her.

“You need to go to one of the singing workshops,” she tells Kourtney. “People need to hear your voice. You know what Miss Jenn told you—she said you were the best singer in Utah.”

“Northern Utah.” Kourtney rolls her eyes. “And she didn’t say anything about southern Wyoming.”

“Gina, you can come?” Nini says, and hugs her close. Things are way more chill between the girls these days. That’s the magic of musicals, people! “You don’t have to go back to DC right away, do you?”

Gina does some weird thing with her head that makes her look like one of those fake head-bobbing dogs in the back of old people’s cars. She and Ashlyn exchange glances.

“Maybe,” she says. “I hope so.”

“Road trip!” shouts Big Red, and everyone starts leaping around and shouting again. At this rate they’ll have no voices for the convention next weekend, whether they want to join the sing-along or not.

It’s only then that I notice something strange. Seb hasn’t said a word, and he’s not looking at his phone.

“Can you go?” I ask him. Seb looks down at the floor.

“I don’t know,” he says. “It’s a really busy time on the farm now. We have the last stock sale of the year on Saturday. It was a big deal for so many of my family members to come see the show tonight. I don’t know if they can spare me that day.”

Just like that, my excitement disappears. Not even an HSM convention will be fun if Seb isn’t there to hang out with.

“Hey,” he says, and takes my hand. “Maybe something’ll work out. Remember what Miss Jenn always says.”

“ ‘Trust the process’?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head and smiles up at me. “ ‘Is that the last apple?’ ”

We both laugh, but what I think is this: How can all these Cinderellas go to the ball? We’ve got to make some magic happen, people. This isn’t a game. It’s High School Musical.

Okay—it’s High School Musical: The Convention. We’re going to Wyoming, not a palace, and we need a van, not a pumpkin coach. A boy can dream, can’t he?

Melissa de la Cruz (www.melissa-delacruz.com) is the author of the #1 New York Times best-selling Descendants series, as well as many other best-selling novels, including all the books in the Blue Bloods series: Blue Bloods, Masquerade, Revelations, The Van Alen Legacy, Keys to the Repository, Misguided Angel, Bloody Valentine, Lost in Time, and Gates of Paradise. She lives in Los Angeles, California, with her husband and daughter.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Tumblr | Goodreads | Amazon

 

(3) winners will win a finished copy of HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL: THE ROAD TRIP - US Only.

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Tour Schedule:

Week One:

5/1/2021

jillpiscitello

Excerpt

Week Two:

5/2/2021	YA Books Central	Excerpt
5/3/2021	Living in a Bookworld	Excerpt
5/4/2021	BookHounds YA	Excerpt
5/5/2021	Perusewithcoffee (blog)	Review
5/6/2021	Musing of Souls	Review
5/7/2021	Kait Plus Books	Excerpt
5/8/2021	The Book View	Review

Week Three:

5/9/2021	onemused	Review
5/10/2021	Lifestyle of Me	Review
5/11/2021	Emelie's Books	Review
5/12/2021	Midnightbooklover	Review
5/13/2021	Fire and Ice	Review
5/14/2021	Shelf Love	Review or Excerpt
5/15/2021	Jenguerdy	Review

Week Four:

5/16/2021	Margie's Must Reads	Review
5/17/2021	Amani’s Reviews	Review
5/18/2021	two points of interest	Review
5/19/2021	Haunted By Books	Review
5/20/2021	booksaremagictoo	Review
5/21/2021	fictitious.fox	Review
5/22/2021	The Reading Wordsmith	Review

Week Five:

5/23/2021	Momfluenster	Review
5/24/2021	michellemengsbookblog	Review
5/25/2021	Rajiv's Reviews	Review
5/26/2021	Struck by Stories	Review
5/27/2021	Fyrekatz Blog	Review
5/28/2021	BiancaBuysBooks	Review
5/29/2021	Do You Dog-ear?	Review

Week Six:

5/30/2021	A Dream Within A Dream	Excerpt
5/31/2021	Lady Hawkeye	Excerpt

Review: The Queen's Assassin by Melissa de la Cruz

The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1)
Author: Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: YA Fantasy
Release Date: February 4, 2020
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers

Description:

Caledon Holt is the Kingdom of Renovia's deadliest weapon. No one alive can best him in brawn or brains, which is why he's the Guild's most dangerous member and the Queen's one and only assassin. He's also bound to the Queen by an impossible vow--to find the missing Deian Scrolls, the fount of all magical history and knowledge, stolen years ago by a nefarious sect called the Aphrasians.

Shadow has been training all her life to follow in the footsteps of her mother and aunts--to become skilled enough to join the ranks of the Guild. Though magic has been forbidden since the Aphrasian uprising, Shadow has been learning to control her powers in secret, hoping that one day she'll become an assassin as feared and revered as Caledon Holt.

When a surprise attack brings Shadow and Cal together, they're forced to team up as assassin and apprentice to hunt down a new sinister threat to Renovia. But as Cal and Shadow grow closer, they'll uncover a shocking web of lies and secrets that may destroy everything they hold dear. With war on the horizon and true love at risk, they'll stop at nothing to protect each other and their kingdom in this stunning first novel in the Queen's Secret series.

Perfect for fans of Sarah J. Maas and Red Queen, this is the first novel in a sweeping YA fantasy-romance duet about a deadly assassin, his mysterious apprentice, and the country they are sworn to protect from #1 NYT bestselling author Melissa de la Cruz. 

The Queen's Assassin is the first book in a lush new YA fantasy duology that fans are going to love. I've read some of the author's other work, so I knew the writing was going to be fantastic. The description had me a little hesitant because it kind of sounds like a lot of the other books out there right now. And it is - to a point. There are some key points to the plot that are basic for this story archetype, but the author puts her own magic into the book to make it stand out from the rest. I'm glad I decided to give this one a shot because I ended up liking it way more than I thought I would.

The main characters - Shadow and Cal - were both realistic and easy to connect with. They each have positive traits as well as obvious flaws and they both make lots of mistakes. Shadow is headstrong, brave, daring, smart, and determined to make her own fate instead of accepting the one she was born into. Cal is the master assassin to the Queen, which makes his life not his own either. He has to finish a quest - find the scrolls - before the blood oath that binds his family to the royal family can be broken. He also follows the Queen's every order - including getting rid of people who threaten the throne. When Shadow and Cal meet, it's the usual frustration and annoyance with each other, working together for a common goal but barely being able to stand the other one. Which then grows into a beautiful romance as they get to know each other more and experience more obstacles and experiences together on their journey. I normally don't like a strong romantic aspect in a book that's supposed to be about something else because it always feels like the romance part takes over the story and overshadows everything else. I didn't feel this way with this book. The romance was always going to be a part of the story and I felt it was woven into the plot effortlessly and didn't take over the entire story line. The author struck a perfect balance between the two that I really enjoyed.

The writing style is always a big deal for me personally as a reader. I almost always prefer the first person point of view. The great thing about this novel is that it's told from both Shadow's and Cal's perspective. Shadow's part of the book is told from the first person POV with her as the narrator. We get to really know her on a deeply personal level throughout the book and by the end of the story I felt like we were really close friends. We get to see inside her mind - her hopes and fears, dreams, memories, desires, and innermost thoughts. This helped me connect with her immediately from the beginning and only grew throughout the book. Cal's side of the story is told from the third person POV, which I didn't like nearly as much. I loved the fact that the author chose to tell the story from their alternating viewpoints - which was fantastic! - but I think if Cal's part of the story was told in the first person POV as well, it would've been basically perfect. I loved getting to know Cal throughout the story but (again) I wish his part was written in the first person as well so we could really connect with him on the same level as Shadow. 

Although the majority of the book was easy to predicate - which is fine because it wasn't meant to be a mystery - there were some interesting twists I didn't see coming that made things really exciting. There's also political intrigue, secrets, treason, and so much more woven into the story. I will admit that the ending killed me. I guess I didn't realize how deeply I had fallen into this world and connected with these characters until the ending. It hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt every emotion in my heart. I don't normally physically react to a book, but while reading the ending and after I had finished - I cried. I couldn't help it. I hated the ending because it broke my heart. This is the first book in a series so I'm really hoping that things will change and be the way they should be (in my mind). I hate having to wait so long until the next book releases because I need to know what's going to happen and what's ahead for our heroes. I very highly recommend this book for fans of YA fantasy, romance, and for fans of the author.

 

Surviving High School Blog Tour: Excerpt + Giveaway

Welcome to my stop on the SURVIVING HIGH SCHOOL tour! Today I have a great excerpt from the book to share with you - and don't forget to enter the giveaway! To follow the rest of the tour, click on the banner above.

Surviving High School

Author: Lele Pons & Melissa de la Cruz

Genre: YA Contemporary

Release Date: April 5, 2016

Publisher: Gallery Books 

Description:

Vine superstar Lele Pons—“one of the coolest girls on the web” (Teen Vogue)—teams up with #1 New York Times bestselling author Melissa de la Cruz (The Isle of the Lost) in this lovable debut novel about the wilds and wonders of high school that’s as laugh-out-loud addictive as Lele’s popular videos.

Ten million followers and I still sit alone at lunch. Lele is a bulls-eye target at her new school in Miami until, overnight, her digital fame catapults the girl with cheerleader looks, a seriously silly personality, and a self-deprecating funny bone into the popular crowd. Now she’s facing a whole new set of challenges—the relentless drama, the ruthless cliques, the unexpected internet celebrity—all while trying to keep her grades up and make her parents proud.

Filled with the zany enthusiasm that has made Lele into Vine’s most viewed star, this charming novel is proof that high school is a trip. From crushing your crushes (what’s up with that hot transfer student Alexei??) to throwing Insta-fake parties with your BFFs and moaning over homework (GAH) with your frenemies, high school is a rollercoaster of exhilarating highs and totally embarrassing lows. Leave it to Lele to reassure us that falling flat on your face is definitely not the end of the world. Fans of Mean Girls will love this fun and heartwarming fish-out-of-water story.

1

Aaar, That’s Quite a Black Eye, Matey

(0 Followers)

The first thing you need to know about me is that I wasn’t always the gorgeous, sexy, cool, breezy blonde you know today. I know, I know, it’s shocking. The truth is, it wasn’t so long ago that I was an awkward outcast wearing braces and last season’s clothes two sizes too big. “No!” I can hear you disagreeing. “Lele has always been perfect.” Well, you’re right, I have always been perfect, but that’s an- other story for another time. Let me take you back to the dark days so you can see that once upon a time my struggle was deep and my struggle was real:

I’m sixteen and it’s my first day at Miami High. The hallways are long and the student body is . . . intimidating. See, my last school (St. Anne’s School for Girls) was small—you might even say cozy, intimate. Oh, right, and Catholic. I come from a small Catholic school and a sheltered Catholic family; until today all I’ve known are the sweet, familiar faces of the same twenty kids I grew up with, plus everything that’s ever happened on the Disney Channel (#TBT Zenon: The Zequel #NeverForget).

My parents, Anna and Luis Pons, decided, abruptly and unjustly, that I should move to a bigger school so I could meet more people, broaden my horizons, blah blah blah, before I go to college. Didn’t anyone tell them you can get into college from any old high school just as long as you have a dope internet presence? Welcome to the twenty-first century, Mom and Dad, please take a seat.

Okay, I didn’t mean that, sometimes I let sassiness get the better of me. Obviously college is a good and important thing—but is it for me? I’m super eager to become an actress and would get so impatient having to put that off for an extra four years, so I don’t know. I’m ready to put on a show for the world; I’m ready to seize life by the horns and make jazz hands.

Anyway, I’m a good Catholic girl and I respect my parents’ wishes (look, I do my best, okay?), which is how I got here, day one at Miami High, epicenter of pretty girls and some of the most unrealistically good-looking guys you will ever see.

I wake up late (typical) and fail to get my first-day outfit down the way I had envisioned. The frilly white blouse, black pants, and knee-high boots that Rihanna had pulled off so effortlessly have me looking less like a pop star and more like a pirate. But I figure, hey, YOLO, right? And head out to Hot-Guy High in disguise as Captain Jack Sparrow. (I know YOLO is dated, but come on, you only live once! Heh.)

First things first: my schedule. A lady who looks like an old potato with glasses and unevenly applied lipstick hands it to me at the front desk.

“Welcome to Miami High,” she says, like she’d rather kill herself than even open her mouth to speak these words. She smells like strawberry candy and cloves, and it’s a little too much to handle first thing in the morning to be quite honest. Anyway, here it is, my educational fate for the next ten months:

1st period: English
2nd period: World History 3rd period: Calculus
4th period: Gym

5th period: Marine Biology 6th period: Spanish

Right away, I stand out like a sore thumb. And yes, I get the looks. You know what I’m talking about: those evil stares kids love to give that say “Ew, who the F is she?” In first period, English, a boy with spiky blue hair throws a crumpled ball of paper that bounces off my head. During second period, world history, a kid with a backward baseball cap calls out, “Hey, why do you talk so weird?” When I explain to him that I have a Venezuelan accent, he calls back, “I dunno, it sounds like you just don’t know how to talk.”

“You mean speak,” I say.
“Huh?”
“You mean to tell me that I don’t know how to speak. Grammatically, I mean. It’s speak, not talk. In this context.”
“Oh my God, what a freak,” the boy mutters to a cluster of equally jaded, pimple-faced boys who laugh and nod their heads.

In third period, calculus, a redheaded girl with glasses approaches me to say, “Everyone here dresses kind of more . . . subtle. Just so you know. For tomorrow.” Then she scuttles away to join her gaggle. Everyone has a gaggle. Except me. Lele Pons, lost and friendless, small fish in a big pond. Sigh. Here we go, junior year, I think to my- self, then drown my woes in an ice-cold Pepsi.

After third period comes lunch. Now, reader, I don’t know how long it’s been since the last time you were in a public school cafeteria, but let me tell you: it is one of the single most frightening places in the world. Literally, high school cafeterias deserve their own season of American Horror Story. Reader, please let me have the honor of describing the diverse array of atrocities within the Miami High cafeteria:

--Lunch ladies: Mean, scowling women who seem to hate their lives and hate us just for being who we are. One with a name tag that reads “Iris” yells at me for not having my money ready in time. Then yells at me more for not having my money transferred onto a One Card (which apparently is like a debit card specifically for gross high school cafeterias?)

--Hairnets: The lunch ladies wear hairnets that get sweaty and oily and make me think of nets used to catch fish—I can’t look at their heads without imagining fish out of water flap- ping around desperately for their lives. Appetite = gone.

--Inedible food: This food is practically criminal. I honestly, honestly don’t know what it is. It looks like a mound of Styrofoam covered in gravy and topped with cubes of something that could or could not be chicken. It comes with a side of “tangerines” that are actually just shreds of tangerine floating in corn syrup.

--Atmosphere: It smells bad; it’s loud; there isn’t a fair amount of oxygen to go around.

--High school kids: Never will you see as many high school kids packed into one place as in a cafeteria. If you’ve seen Mean Girls, then you know about the clique labels (sexually active band geeks, preps, girls who eat their feelings, hot Asians, etc.), but at Miami High there’s none of this. At Miami High, nothing is simple. Everyone is clumped together, each clique infringing on the personal space of the one next to it, so that you can’t tell where the jocks end and the nerds begin. School administrations won’t ever be able to abolish cliques, but they can force them to sit together, and this nightmare is the result. Unlike in Mean Girls and also Every High School Movie Ever Made Ever, where the main character and often new girl doesn’t know where to sit because none of the cliques will welcome her, I don’t know where to sit because there are literally no places to sit. Even if a clique were to welcome me, I would have to sit on someone’s lap. Dear God, this place is a zoo.

With nowhere to sit and no desire to eat my food, I toss my cardboard tray in the trash and hurry outside to get some air before I have a panic attack or accidentally stab someone out of fear and confusion. I sit down outside with my back against the wall and count down the minutes until this weirdness is over. But of course a watched pot never boils, and there’s no rest for the weary. A very professional woman in a blue blazer and patent-leather heels and a Hillary Clinton–type haircut clicks by clutching a walkie-talkie like she’s headed to diffuse a bomb. When she sees me, she comes to a startling halt.

“Excuse me, why are we outside?” She sounds vengeful and thirsty, like she wants to suck my blood.

“Ermm . . . I don’t know why you are. I am outside because I couldn’t breathe in there.”

“That doesn’t matter; you know the rules. No students allowed outside the cafeteria during lunch hour.”

“Oh, see, this is my first day. I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you know. Get back in there so I don’t have to write you up.”

“Write me up? Like in jail? I really don’t want to go back in.”

“Listen, I don’t know how they did things at your old school, but we don’t make exceptions for Miami High students. If I treated you like a princess, I’d have to treat everyone like a princess. You’re just going to have to eat inside like everyone else.”

“Because I want fresh air I’m asking to be treated like a princess?”

“Please don’t take an attitude with me, I haven’t written up anyone today and I don’t want to start now.”

“Good Lord.” I’m practically laughing at this point, the absurdity of this woman and the situation is too much to handle. “I guess I’ll have to start a rebellion.”

“No need to be so dramatic. Stop by the main desk after school to pick up an off-campus form. Have your parents sign it and you’ll receive off-campus privileges during lunch. You don’t have to eat in the cafeteria, but you can’t be on campus. It’s for safety reasons.”

“Thank you. I’m so glad I didn’t have to turn this into something dramatic.”

She huffs and clicks away, her head leading her body so that she was practically a diagonal line. Gotta admire that delusional determination.

The bell rings and I’ve never been so excited to get back to class. I notice a kind-looking African American girl walking back on campus with impeccably braided hair and indisputably nerdy glasses.

“Hey,” I call to her, “do you go off campus for lunch?”

“Oh, yeah, there’s no way I could survive going in there every day.” She gestures to the cafeteria.

“It’s disgusting, right? I thought maybe it was just my imagination.”

“No, girl, you’re right on track.”
“For the first time in my life, maybe. I’m Lele Pons.”
“I’m Darcy Smith. Nice to meet you. Make sure you get an off- campus pass ASAP, you seem nice and I would hate to lose you to that place.”

Note to self: get an off-campus pass or perish. Note to self: I don’t like this school.
 Note to self: But I sort of like Darcy.

Fourth period is gym. Coach Washington is this boxy-shaped woman with a bowl haircut and two silver teeth. Oh, and she’s missing the pinkie finger on her left hand. She passes out these ugly neon uniforms and then marches us to the locker room where we are actually supposed to get naked in front of each other. Ew. Being a Catholic, I’m modest, and I try to be as discreet as possible—I don’t even know these girls’ names yet, and I don’t want their very first impression of me to be this beige Nike sports bra. But it’s too late. A slender-though-curvy brunette with big, bright brown-green eyes and fluttery eyelashes spots me in the crowd and, sensing my weakness, pounces.

“Hey, new girl.” She smirks. “I think my grandma has that same bra.”

“Congratulations on knowing so much about your grandma’s underwear,” I say right back, without thinking. The room goes silent and Bright Eyes raises her eyebrows at me in a way that, I have to admit, freaks me out a little. Have I messed with the wrong chica? She shuts her locker door slowly and deliberately, as if sending me some kind of warning sign, then flips her hair and turns to leave. “Yo’ mama wore this bra last night,” I mutter to myself and whoever is still listening. Great one, Lele, great one.

Out on the field, Coach Washington takes roll and I learn that Bright Eyes actually goes by the name Yvette Amparo. Washington pronounces my name like “Lee Lee” and I just absolutely have to correct her. That’s the second thing you need to know about me: I can really lose it when bitches call me Lee Lee. Some dimwits even call me Ley Ley or Lilly. Does nobody know how to read? It’s Lele . . . like, Leh Leh, or like “you can stand under my umbrella ella ella eh eh eh,” except if you add some L’s: “You can stand under my umbrella ella ella Lele Lele.” That’s how you can remember it whenever you’re struggling. Leh, like heh. I try to explain this all to Coach Washington, but she loses patience quickly and moves on.

I gotta tell you, tackle football seems a little intense for a first- day sport. Couldn’t we just stick to something safe, like jumping jacks? Apparently not. Apparently gym teachers in large public schools enjoy torturing their students. As soon as Coach Washington puts Yvette and me on opposite teams, I know I’m going to have to take her down. That’s the third thing you need to know about me: I’m a physical person. I’m not saying I’m not smart, I’m just saying I prefer to use my body to work out issues. You know, go on a run, have a solo dance party, punch someone if necessary. I’ve seen the way boys resolve their discrepancies: a little roughhousing and it’s all in the past. They’re like lions in the wild. But us girls, for whatever reason, we’re expected to talk it out like little ladies. Gah!

Anyway, so we get out on the field and I’m all in. Suddenly it’s like if I don’t win this game for my team, I will have officially failed my first day. If I win, however, I’ll be my own personal hero and will triumph over the brutal awkwardness leading up to this moment. As soon as Washington blows her whistle I’m running and jumping and diving and clawing my way through the field with so much enthusiasm that I forget I don’t actually know the first thing about tackle football. Oops. Through my veil of adrenaline I can see someone toss Yvette the ball, and I go for it. Maybe I shouldn’t, maybe it’s wrong, but I throw my body on top of her, tackling poor skinny Yvette to the ground. But she doesn’t go down easily. She puts up a fight, thrashing her head all around until CLONK, her skull knocks into my face with the weight of a bowling ball. I bite my lip, trying not to scream. Stars spin around my head cartoon-style and Coach is blowing on that stupid, shrill whistle.

“Okay, okay, time out. What’s going on here?” she says, ramming her hands together perpendicularly in the “time out” gesture.

“Lee Lee attacked me.” Ugh.

“I didn’t attack you; I tackled you. Like how you do sometimes in tackle football. Which we are currently playing.” I put my hand to my right eye, which already feels bruised. Yvette gets all huffy and Coach makes me sit down, and then I get huffy all by myself in a corner, mad at Yvette and Coach Washington and the kid who threw a paper ball at my head earlier and my stupid parents for making me come to this evil, awful place.

By the time I’m changed back into my regular (a.k.a. pirate) clothes, my right eye is completely swollen shut. Bitch gave me a black eye!

“You know you look like a pirate, right?” Yvette snarls, sauntering out of the gym.

“Arrrrr!” I holler after her. I want to make her walk the plank.

At home my parents ask me that awful question every kid dreads hearing, the question that sounds like nails on a chalkboard: “How was your day?”

“Fine,” I say. Then I change my mind, suddenly inhabited by the spirit of honesty. “Actually, it was terrible. The place is ginormous and everyone thinks they’re so cool.”

“Oh, Lele”—my mom says my name perfectly, always a comfort, albeit slight—“I’m sure none of them are as cool as you.”

“Thanks, Mom, I’ll make sure to tell them my mom thinks I’m super cool.”

I go to my room and collapse onto my bed, groan into the pillow, kick my feet a little bit for dramatic effect. After my self-pity party I decide I’ve suffered enough for one day. It’s time to shake it off like Taylor Swift, time to let it go like Elsa.

It’s time to go to my happy place: Vine. In Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Audrey Hepburn says that nothing very bad can happen at Tiffany’s, and that’s exactly how I feel about Vine. Nothing very bad can happen on Vine, at least not to me. Vine is the one place I feel untouchable. I sign into my account and type in the title of tonight’s Vine: “The Advantages of Being a Boy.”

Lele Pons was born in Caracas, Venezuela and moved with her family to Miami when she was five years old. She got her start when she created a page on the video-sharing app Vine in December 2013. Originally intended as a fun outlet to showcase her creativity, her vines evolved into comedic sketches and pulling practical jokes on family and friends. Her following grew from five thousand local followers to more than ten million by November 2015. 

Today she is one of the most recognizable names on social media, and has been featured in Vanity Fair, The New York Times, Teen Vogue, Time, and more. Lele has been nominated for three Teen Choice Awards, a People’s Choice Award, and a Streamy Award. In 2015, she was invited to the White House by First Lady Michelle Obama to help launch her campaign for disadvantaged kids to go to college. Lele graduated from high school in 2015 and currently resides in Los Angeles, CA.

Melissa de la Cruz is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of books for readers of all ages, including the Witches of East End, Blue Bloods, and Descendants series. 

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