And okay, maybe I feel the smallest tinge of jealousy for whatever’s making him grin so hard. And okay, maybe I tell myself it’s an old Jauncy video.

And maybe that conjures up memories of a different time.

A better time.

Because what if Beowulf and the dragon had put aside their differences and become a renowned comedy duo?

55

Two Years Before the Funeral

I clicked an inactive tab on Q’s laptop.

We were supposed to be researching sea lions for science class, but of course we were watching highlights from last night’s NBA games.

“Yo, what’s this?” I asked, as I took a bite into some leftover tostadas Mr. Barrantes had made the night before. “Q’s Comedy Hour?”

And Q’s face had erupted in panic. “Don’t click that . . .”

But it was too late.

It was a TuberOne video he’d posted.

And it was just Q in front of the camera, sitting at his desk, telling jokes. And listen, I always knew Q was funny, but this . . . this was different.

He was beyond funny.

He was freaking hilarious.

“You kinda remind me of Donald Glover,” I told him. “Like his old stand-up stuff.”

And his face lit up. “Yeah? You don’t think it’s corny?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Donald’s funny, but I was kinda going for someone else.”

“Well, I was gonna say Kendrick Fallon, but I d—”

Q grinned extra wide. “You got it.”

“You wanna host a TV show?”

Q shrugged. “Maybe. Or, I don’t know, maybe write jokes for Kendrick. I heard an interview where he said that’s how he got started in comedy. Writing jokes for other people.”

I smiled. “I could totally see you doing this.”

“Yeah? You just saying that?”

“Bro, I don’t just say stuff. You know me.”

And then Q had gotten this weird look in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad you feel that way because I was thinking you’d want to team up together. Be a comedy duo.”

“I’m not nearly as funny as you.”

Q laughed. “We’re just different funny. You’re like observational humor. But that’s still funny.”

I still wasn’t sure. I wasn’t seeing it. “I don’t know, Q. What if kids at school find our videos and think we’re stupid?”

“No one will ever find them. I’ve made thirty already and you had no idea.”

He had a point. It was almost like this secret life Q’d been leading without me. Alter-ego Quincy.

“Okay, but if we’re gonna do this, we’ve gotta make it good. I mean, what if it went viral? Q, this could be your ticket. You could be Kendrick one day.”

“Let’s not get carried away, but . . . thanks, man.”

I took a giant bite of tostada, guac juice running down my chin. “So, what should we call ourselves?”

“Jauncy,” Q said with zero hesitation.