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Still riding my wave of improvisation inspiration, I pick up a cupcake and stuff the entire thing into my mouth. Tiffany’s eyes widen and she turns her head to hide the laugh she can’t hold in. Her shoulders are shaking. This is too good to be true.
    I deliver my next line—which is about how beautiful she is—with bits of chocolate spewing out. It’s disgusting, but hilarious. Tiffany has tears streaming down her cheeks from trying to hold in her laughter.
    Desperate to keep the riff going, I cram another entire cupcake into my mouth.
    This is when disaster strikes. Suddenly I discover that I can’t breathe, because there is a chocolate logjam in my throat. I only need a minute, I think, and I’ll get this. I try to give my next line, but nothing comes out. Tiffany starts to look alarmed. The audience is still laughing, but it’s starting to die down, as if some of them realize I am in trouble.
    Which is when Mikey comes barreling onstage from behind me, screaming, “He’s choking! He’s choking!”
    He grabs me around the waist and jabs his fists into my belly.
    I’ve been Heimliched!
    Those of you who know about the Heimlich maneuver will remember that basically it forces the air out of your lungs, blowing whatever is blocking your breathing out of your mouth.
    Those of you who have been staging this in your mind as you read will remember who is directly across from me.
    Those of you with even minimal powers of prediction will know what happens next. An unholy mix of partially chewed Hostess chocolate cupcakes spews out of my mouth and spatters all over Tiffany.
    I am filled with deeper horror than any I have ever known. Wrenching my way out of Mikey’s grasp, I bolt around the table to clean her off.
    Unfortunately, the table is close to the edge of the stage. Too close. Tripping over my untied shoelace, I hurtle headfirst into the darkness.
    My body makes some very unpleasant sounds as it lands.
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    Okay, I probably could have accepted the broken leg.
    I might even have been able to live with the memory of the look on Tiffany’s face.
    But when the ambulance guys came and put me on a stretcher, and everyone stood there watching as they rolled me out of the school, and Mikey followed after them to tell me that my fly had been open during the entire fiasco, I really thought that was too much.
    Anyway, that’s how I ended up in this hospital bed, staring at my right leg, which is up in traction.
    Tiffany came to visit a while ago. That would have been wonderful, except she brought along her boyfriend, Chuck. He goes to another school and is old enough to drive.
    Something inside me died when she introduced him.
    To make things worse (and what doesn’t?), it turns out that Chuck was in the audience yesterday.
    â€œYou were brilliant, man,” he says. “At least, until the part where it all fell to pieces.”
    I want to shove a Hostess cupcake down his throat.
    After they are gone, Mikey shows up.
    â€œTough luck, Murphy,” he says, looking at my cast.
    I try to remember that he is my best friend, and really thought he was saving my life when he Heimliched me.
    It is not easy.
    â€œCheer up,” he says. “It couldn’t get worse than this.”
    He’s lucky my leg is in traction and I can’t get out of bed. He is also lucky I don’t have a cupcake on me.
    After Mikey leaves, I make two decisions: (a) I am going to change my name, and (b) I never want to be thirteen again as long as I live.
    There is another knock on my door.
    â€œHello, Murphy,” says a soft voice.
    It’s Laurel.
    She smiles shyly. “Can I come in?”
    I’ve never noticed how pretty she is when she smiles. For a brief moment I think life may not be so bad after all.
    I am pretty sure, however, that this is a delusion.
    After all, my name is still Murphy Murphy.
    And I’m still thirteen years old.
    I don’t even want to