Set the Record Straight! Page 7

  I sat in her office while she called Mr. Trigg, and she put us all on speaker phone. They exchanged details, and Mr. Trigg apologized profusely, then he filled us in on what was happening.

  “Mr. Pfeiffer has been notified,” said Mr. Trigg. “And we’re having the school’s IT person get into the server to see if he can identify who is sending the e-mails, using e-mail forensics.”

  “I have the letters that were dropped off here,” Mom said. “I’ll bring them in tomorrow.”

  “Excellent,” said Mr. Trigg. “We can analyze the handwriting.”

  I knew that a small part of Trigger was loving the drama and the spy tactics. As bad as it all was, I had to smile again.

  “Mrs. Martone, on behalf of the school and the paper, and just personally, I apologize from the bottom of my heart for what has happened to Sam. I would never have wanted something like this to happen and I am simply mortified I was away when it did.”

  I worried for a second that he was going to cry. “Keep calm and carry on, Mr. Trigg!” I said desperately, and he chuckled.

  “You too, Ms. Martone. I’ll get back to you as soon as we have any more information.”

  “Thanks, Paul,” said my mother, and they both hung up.

  “Lovely guy,” she added, looking at the phone.

  I nodded. “Yup.”

  “You never were totally sold on this column,” my mom said, lost in thought.

  “No,” I agreed.

  “It’s going to be okay, Samantha,” Mom said. “We’re going to work this out. But you have to promise me that if anyone threatens or bullies you, you have to tell me as soon as possible. These things can escalate so quickly.”

  “I promise,” I said.

  The front door banged open.

  “Dinner!” yelled Allie. “What a wild goose chase you sent me on!”

  My mom and I looked at each other like the coconspirators we were. She winked at me, and we went up for dinner.

  Chapter 11

  JOURNALIST GRABS THE REINS, PULLS BACK FROM EDGE

  I went to bed early, and my mom stayed up, talking to Mr. Pfeiffer and then Trigger again. The next morning, she went in to meet with them, to bring the letters and register a complaint, and thank goodness, I didn’t have to go.

  At my locker Hailey was breathless.

  “Where have you been? I e-mailed and IM’d you all night last night!”

  “Oh, I had a lot of work, and my mom got a special dinner. . . .”

  “You of all people, offline! Anyway, I have major, major news!”

  Oh boy. I was tired of major news. “Is this about Dear Know-It-All? ’Cause I heard all about that already.” And the last thing I want to hear about is more school gossip.

  Hailey looked at me like I was nuts.

  Hailey continued. “What? No. I’m sick of that Know-It-All, anyway. No, this is way better. Are you ready?”

  I sighed. Maybe I was losing my taste for news. Gossip, for sure. “What?” I said.

  Hailey scowled at me. “You could try to be a little excited.”

  “Oh! This is good news? Okay, what then?” I made my voice peppier, and I smiled.

  Hailey looked at me suspiciously. Then the news was too good to keep in so she gave up. “Guess who Scott Parker’s cousin is?” Like Allie, she folded her arms across her chest and smiled a smug, closed-mouth smile at me.

  “Justin Bieber?” I offered. I couldn’t resist.

  Hailey rolled her eyes. “No, no, no. Amanda Huxtable.” She grinned.

  “What?” It took a minute to sink in. “Hailey, that’s such happy news! Woo-hoo! That’s the best news I’ve heard all week!” I grabbed Hailey in a hug and danced her around, then I let go.

  “Are you serious, Sam?” asked Hailey cautiously. “Are you really that happy for me?”

  “Yes, Hailey. I am really that happy for you.” I smiled to prove it.

  “Wow. Thanks!”

  “So what now?”

  “I was going to ask you that question.”

  “Oh . . . I . . . I don’t give advice anymore.”

  Hailey looked crestfallen. “What? But you give the best advice. Of anyone!”

  Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Yeah, right.” I turned to my locker to swap books.

  “I’m serious!” said Hailey.

  “Serious about what?” It was Michael. He’d come up behind us.

  “Hey, Mikey!” I said, turning around. I was happy to see him. I think my greeting caught him off guard, but he looked really pleased and smiled a big smile back.

  “So . . . I . . . Hey, want to go over everything this afternoon after school? Plot out the article?” he asked, seeming a little shy suddenly. Why, I have no idea.

  “Totally,” I said. “Why don’t we meet . . . You know what? Why don’t you just come over to my house. We’ll meet outside and walk home together, okay?”

  Now Michael was nodding and backing away, but he was still smiling. “Great. I’ll meet you out front. See ya.” Then he looked at Hailey. “What was so serious, by the way?”

  “Don’t you think Sam is good at giving advice?” Hailey said.

  I could feel my face starting to get pink.

  “Uh . . . I guess?” said Michael, looking confused.

  “Well, she says she’s not giving advice anymore, and I can’t figure out why. And I need her to give me advice on something.” Hailey narrowed her eyes at me. I looked away.

  There was a pause, and I looked back to see Michael studying me curiously.

  Then he shrugged. “Oh . . . well . . . Sounds like girl stuff. See you after school, Sam!” And he scooted down the hall, but not without giving me a worried look over his shoulder. Oh no. Did he know?

  I turned to my locker and calmly began to take off my fleece and hang it up.

  Hailey was standing there so quietly, I had to turn to look at her. She was smiling so hard, it looked like her face was going to crack.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You just asked him out! And he said yes!”

  “What? I did not! That wasn’t asking him out! He’s just coming over to my house!”

  “Well . . . you asked him in, then!” said Hailey, and we started laughing hysterically.

  I laughed so hard, it almost turned to tears, but I stopped just in time. I’d had enough of that for one week. Or one month, even. Journalist Grabs the Reins, Pulls Back from Edge.

  It felt good to be back in sync with Hailey. There was so much I couldn’t tell her about what had been going on in my life, and it was frustrating. I felt guilty I didn’t have much to offer her in return for her confessions about Scott Parker. Oh well, it would even out in the end. And soon I’d have Dear Know-It-All out of my life, and everything could go back to normal.

  The day that had started off so well grew less well as it wore on. Everywhere I went I heard people chatting about the Tired of Waiting post. It was incredible how many people she had reached with this one snippet of text. I felt self-conscious everywhere I went because I had to guard my reaction to the information. When the girls in my math class (sorry, numerics class) were discussing it, I had to act like I couldn’t remember what the column had been about, just to be safe. The only good thing was that people thought Tired was nuts.

  “I mean, get over it!” said a girl named Stacey who I knew from Hailey’s soccer team. I felt a little better after hearing that. Just a little.

  “Do you think that we’ll find out who Know-It-All is?” asked Isabella.

  “Probably,” said Stacey. “It sounds like Tired might already know who it is.”

  I shuddered. It was one thing to be the first Know-It-All to be found out. But what would Tired do if she knew it was me? Would she follow me home? Turn the whole school against me? My stomach started to hurt.

  I was dying to stop by to see Mr. Trigg, but he and my mom and I had agreed on the phone that we wouldn’t discuss anything about Tired of Waiting while we were at school. However, by the end o
f the day, I was so nervous, I couldn’t take it anymore. So I stopped by on my way out to meet Michael.

  “Hey, Mr. Trigg!” I called.

  “Ms. Martone! How lovely to see you!”

  I went over to his office and stood in the doorway. “How was your trip?” It was like we really were spies, saying lines that didn’t matter but that covered up the real business at hand.

  “Lovely, just lovely,” he said. “I saw Mr. Lawrence. He told me you two have had some very interesting developments in the lunch story.”

  I nodded. “We’re meeting after school today to map it all out and then we’ll pop by tomorrow to run it by you.”

  “Excellent.” He smiled. “Remember not to just condemn the food. Find out what goes into it, the process—all of it.”

  “Oh, we will all right. It’s really shaping up.” I stood there, not wanting to leave yet.

  There was so much for us to say to each other. I rocked from foot to foot and twisted my hair with one hand, which I sometimes do when I get really anxious. Mr. Trigg cleared his throat. There was no one else around. “Ms. Martone, thanks for trying,” he said quietly. “I’m working on your replacement now. Hate to see you quit, but wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I stood, rooted to the spot.

  Know-It-All would be over for me. I wouldn’t have to hide things anymore. I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone getting mad. But quit. Quit? Quit! I had never quit anything before. Even when I went to tennis camp with Hailey and was so bad that all I did was chase balls for most of the two weeks, I hung in there. I did want to end the bullying by Tired. But I didn’t want to quit something because of her. Besides, I didn’t remember actually quitting. It was my column. Mr. Trigg gave it to me.

  You know what? I wasn’t going to let this bully win! Before I knew it, I was blurting, “Mr. Trigg, I didn’t quit. I don’t quit. I’ll have a new column for you in three days.”

  I spun on my heel before he could say anything to stop me, then I rushed out the door without looking back. Outside of the school, Michael was waiting for me (thank goodness, because it meant I didn’t have to walk home alone). I was so confused about what just happened with Mr. Trigg, and really nervous that I accidentally asked Michael out, that I just started babbling. Michael listened with an amused smile on his face as we walked. I only wished I could tell him everything. Maybe someday I would, but not now.

  At home I opened the door and called “Hel-looo!” I figured Allie was there. She always got home before me. But today she wasn’t.

  “Samantha?” Mom called from downstairs.

  “Yes!” I called. “It’s me. And Michael,” I added in case she was going to talk about Know-It-All. She came up the stairs and looked surprised, then she smiled.

  “Hi, Michael!” she said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Martone.” Michael shook her hand, and she beamed. Mom was a sucker for good manners.

  “Sam, I have to run an errand, and I didn’t want you to be home alone. You guys okay here, just the two of you?” I could feel myself blushing. She didn’t have to make such a big deal about us being alone.

  “We’re fine, Mom!” I said, and I opened the door to shoo her out. We waved good-bye and I shut the door and then it was just the two of us. It was just a little awkward being alone in my house with Michael. He seemed awkward too.

  “Let’s . . . get a snack, okay?” I said, and we trooped up the stairs to the kitchen.

  “Cool multilevel house,” he said.

  “Thanks. What do you like? Cheese and crackers? A salami sandwich? Cookies?” What did boys like to eat? I knew Michael liked to bake cinnamon buns, but I didn’t have anything like that. I looked around the counter. “Oh! A Mrs. Moseby bar!”

  As soon as I spied those, it broke the ice, and we began chatting away, talking about Mary Bonner, munching on her bars, plotting out the article—smooth sailing.

  Just as we were at our most relaxed, in came Allie with a bang.

  “Well, well, well, who have we here?” she said, entering the kitchen. I glared at her. She knew perfectly well who we had here.

  Michael stood up to greet her (great manners as usual) and she all but patted him on the head. “You are adorable, just like everyone says!” She had a sly smile on her face, but thank goodness did not look at me to indicate that I was “everyone.”

  Michael was bashful, and deflected the compliment. He smiled slightly and looked away.

  “I know your brothers pretty well,” Allie offered, batting her eyes. “Nice guys.”

  “Thanks,” said Michael.

  And then, thank heavens, her phone rang and we were dead to her. But as she left the room, she called over her shoulder, “You still haven’t told me who Dear Know-It-All is!”

  Aaack! I have never wanted to be an only child so badly in my life.

  I laughed it off, but Michael looked serious.

  “Did you hear about that post yesterday?” he asked.

  “How could I not? It’s all anyone could talk about today. Bo-ring!” I was trying to play it off really casually and move on, but I noticed my hands started to shake. I sat on them.

  Michael looked at me. “That was some serious stuff. Scary, I think. I hope they catch the kid who did it.” He shook his head.

  I nodded, looking down, like I was having a sad moment for the people involved, but I didn’t say anything. I was worried if I opened my mouth, I’d blurt it all out. Or start to cry.

  Then, out of nowhere, Michael said, “Hey, the other day, when you were saying you were wrong about someone . . . Did you . . . did you mean me? Are you, like, not into us working together anymore?”

  I looked up in surprise. Michael was biting his lip and actually looked worried. He stared down at his fingernails.

  “No! What? Are you kidding? I totally love you!”

  Michael’s head snapped up like he’d been electrocuted. His eyes were wide with shock.

  Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Did I just tell Michael Lawrence that I loved him???

  Fix this! Fix this! I thought in desperation.

  Strangely enough, a smile began to bloom on his face. Maybe it was a nervous I-can’t-believe-what-a-nerd-you-are smile.

  Girl Prays for Lightning to Strike Her.

  I stammered, “I mean . . . I mean . . . I love working with you! You’re the best partner a girl could have!” I smacked my forehead and kind of fake laughed, shaking my head from side to side. “Writing partner!” I added. Ugh.

  Michael laughed too, in a kind of forced way. “Oh, right. Yeah. No. I know what you mean. I love working with you, too. Totally. Yeah. So . . .”

  “Anyway,” I said, chuckling. What I was really thinking was that there is not a bigger loser in all the world than me. Not one. Or, okay, one. Tired of Waiting was a bigger loser.

  “Yeah. Anyway . . .” said Michael.

  Awkward! Awkward! What to say? The gears in my head spun, not making any headway.

  “Hi girls!” my mother trilled, walking in the front door downstairs.

  “And boy!” I called, so thrilled for the distraction. Yep, there was a boy in my house. And he was there for me. Maybe this day wasn’t a total disaster after all.

  Chapter 12

  FATIGUE SETS IN AS BATTLE WINDS DOWN

  All in all, the afternoon with Michael went well. We mapped out the whole article, made a list (or I did; he just keeps it in his head) of loose ends we needed to tie up: a quote from Mr. Pfeiffer the principal, a tiny bit more research on state lunch regulations, and a few other minor details. It felt good to be hanging out together. It was like we had progressed to a new stage in our friendship or whatever it was.

  Allie was going to a homecoming pep rally that night, so my mom and I were free to talk. She filled me in on her visit to school. It had been brief. Mr. Pfeiffer and the IT guy had identified the computer where the e-mails were coming from, and Mr. Pfeiffer and Mr. Trigg were contacting the parents
of the girl to whom that computer was registered. Once they confirmed who Tired was, she’d probably be suspended because there was a zero-tolerance policy on bullying.

  Part of me felt really sorry for Tired, and I talked to my mom about it.

  “Imagine how lonely she is, using a newspaper column for advice, and then getting so vicious and relentless about it. I still feel guilty for starting the whole thing,” I said.

  My mother shook her head. “First of all, you didn’t start it,” she said firmly. “She wrote asking for advice, and she was the one who escalated it. You know, honey, this girl clearly has a lot of issues, and this whole incident, or series of incidents, was really just a cry for help. It wasn’t your advice that made her go a little cuckoo. She was already there. This was just a trigger.”

  I smiled at the word “trigger.” “I love Mr. Trigg, by the way,” I said.

  My mother nodded. “Yes, but I’m pretty mad at him right now, and I told him as much earlier. He made a bad judgment call giving you direct access to the mail and e-mail. He should always be filtering that stuff, no matter where he is. If he’s away, it can just wait. It’s too much responsibility, too much liability, for someone your age.”

  I hated to point a finger at Mr. Trigg, but she did have a point. “I guess you’re right,” I said. I sighed. I was tired of all this. Tired of Tired. Fatigue Sets in as Battle Winds Down.

  “I’m going to bed,” I said.

  “Love you, honey,” said my mom. “Sleep well.” She planted a kiss on my head, and I went up.

  I had an IM from Hailey.

  SP said hi to me today in the hall.

  I wrote back.

  You go, girl!

  But whatever you do, don’t ask him out, I added silently.

  Then I turned off my computer and went to bed. It was only eight thirty, but I fell asleep right away and slept all night.

  I didn’t see Hailey until lunch the next day. She was ecstatic. She gestured to her tray, where three plates of partially eaten cookies sat.