It was another clear Saturday. It is clear a lot in Forlot. Not only can I enjoy this outside world with my friends - friend - but I can also enter houses without being wet or drowned in snow. I hate tracking water and snow in homes and other buildings. So not worrying about that during my rounds feels nice. Well, it would if I had any rounds.

This might sound crazy, but...I love dummies! No. One is not making me claim it. I am not being threatened. I looooooove dummies. I love dolls and puppets too, but not as much. I adore their realistic looks. Their painted smirks. Those old-fashioned clothes. The wooden skin. You may think that I am obsessed with dummies. I will not be much longer if I never get ventriloquism down.

I want to be a ventriloquist. Badly. I practice every day after school and all weekend. I use my stuffed animals. I do not own a dummy because dummies are rare here. Something about them being alive and wrecking havoc or falling in love with girls.

Glad that I am a boy. I am not in love with dummies. I do not want to be shipped with one.

The other reason that I do not have a dummy is thanks to my parents. Like mostly everybody else, they always are creeped out by the dummies. They hate them. They cannot understand why their only child was fascinated by them. Of all the careers out there, why did he decide ventriloquism? He could become a teacher. A doctor. A lawyer. A teacher. A mechanic. An artist. Even a writer like Ash J. Nope. He dreams of being a ventriloquist. A famous ventriloquist. He will never get the hang of it.

They are right about the last part. I cannot talk without moving my lips. I try and try. I watched many videos. I sit with a stuffed animal on my lap and try putting into practice what I learned. I have a short temper. Seconds into my practice, I grow frustrated and throw my toy. I then bury my face in my pillow or crumple to the floor. I cry and pull on my hair and repeat that I cannot do it. I cannot speak clearly without moving my darn mouth. I cannot be a ventriloquist.

This morning was one of those times. I was in my desk chair, facing my bedroom door and imagining my fans. Kids and adults from all over traveled here...just to see me. See me and my dummy perform. They waved their arms and jumped up and down and cheered my name.

"Clay! Clay! Clay!"

I sighed happily and said, "Ah. Music to my ears."

My teddy bear was on my knee. I held him by his neck. If he was alive, he would probably ask if I was planning to strangle him. I just did not want him to fall. Fall into the thrilling crowd. They would rip him to shreds! This is how famous we were.

I moved the bear's head to glance up at me and tried to not move my lips. "You will not think so once someone - definitely not me - throws you off this stage."

The audience laughed even though that joke was pretty lame.

I looked down at him. "Do not get any ideas."

I pointed his arm at me. "I would never dreeeeam of it. I am blessed to call you my friend."

The audience awed.

"That is kind of you to say. I am also blessed to call you my friend."

I imagined my bear frowning. "Do not do that."

"Do what?"

"What you just did."

I looked at the fans. Then back at him. "Uh...what did I just do?"

"How dumb do you think that I am?"

The audience erupted in laughter again.

"Well...you are a dummy."

More laughs.

I brought his face close to mine and talked low. "I dare you to call me that again. I will show everyone who the real dummy is."

The audience clapped and hooted. A few whistled.

I chuckled. "Big words coming from a little—"

"Do not say it."

"We have worked together for years. You really believe that I am scared of you?"

"You cannot stop thinking about me, so yes."

It was the audience's turn to chuckle.

"Just because I cannot stop thinking about ya does not mean that I am scared of ya."

I moved the bear's head to look back at our audience. I made him sigh. "I suppose that you are correct. So you must have a crush on me."

Half of the audience laughed. The other oohed.

"What?!"

I made my furry bear look back up at me and imagined him grinning. "Do not deny it. I know that you are gay. So does everybody else."

I opened my mouth wide and gasped. "I am not gay!"

This is true. I really am not gay. I have a crush on a girl who is in all my classes. She is the most beautiful thing that I have laid eyes on. But I have no chance with her. I am not out of her league. I am a pretty attractive guy. It is just that other handsome guys are into her as well. I can never speak to her because the guys surround her and do stuff for her and keep asking her to be theirs. It is overwhelming for her. I can tell by her expression. If she has a boyfriend - a sweet and loyal boyfriend - then maybe they will back off. I am sweet and loyal.

But how can I get her to notice me?

I moved my bear's head back to the large audience that resembled ants. "Admit it already. You have a crush on a boy. A boy more attractive than you, but he likes you. Tell us his name."

"I am not gay!"

"It is me!"

I threw my bear.