Set the Record Straight! Page 8

  “Oh my gosh! Have you tried these?” she mumbled through a mouth full of crumbs.

  I looked closely. Compost cookies!

  “Why, yes I have,” I said. “I didn’t see them up there.”

  Hailey shook her head and finished chewing. She swallowed hard, forcing it. “They’re not part of the official school lunch. They’re a ‘bonus’ item, like a supplement, you can buy at that little table over there.” She pointed toward the door to the kitchen where the little table from Mary Bonner’s office was set up with its striped tablecloth. My eyes nearly popped out of my head! I jumped up and ran over. Carmen was manning the table.

  “Hey, Carmen!” I said. “What’s up?”

  “Hi, Sam! Well, Mary spoke with Mr. Pfeiffer about some new plans for the cafeteria, and one of the things they decided was that we’d offer a bonus item for sale at lunch every day. The revenue will pay for the ingredients for upcoming bonus items.”

  “Wow! Cool! How much for two cookies?” I asked.

  “A dollar,” said Carmen.

  Pretty good price. I bought the cookies. “This must make a lot more work for you guys,” I said.

  Carmen shook her head and beamed. “It doesn’t matter. Just seeing the kids’ faces when they’re eating something they love, it’s worth it. Of course we’re launching with cookies, but over the next few weeks we’re going to work our way into mixing it up with superhealthy snacks and side dishes, like kale chips and hard-boiled eggs. Maybe even some main courses, like veggie wraps and stuff. We figured we’d lure you all in early with treats and get you in the habit of stopping by this table!” She winked at me.

  “That’s great,” I said. “Well, good luck! And thanks. Bye!”

  As I walked away, Jeff was approaching the table. I saw him squint at Carmen’s name tag and say, “Hey, Carmen! I’m Jeff. I’d like to buy some cookies, please.”

  I had to smile. Now Bob, Carmen, Marcy, and Mary would be known by everyone. And all it took was trying out a new idea. Of course, it helped that they launched with the compost cookies!

  Back at my lunch table, Hailey had finished her cookie-based lunch.

  I looked sideways at her. “You know, you said yourself that the idea is that these bonus items ‘supplement’ the existing lunch.”

  “Well, my existing lunch would have been the cookies,” she reasoned. “So I’m just supplementing them with a few more. Anyway, guess what? I joined the chess club. I’ve always wanted to learn how to play. I think it will help with my soccer strategy, don’t you?” She was talking a mile a minute, wired on sugar.

  I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Wait, let me guess. Scott Parker is in the chess club, right?”

  Hailey was the picture of innocence. “What? I don’t know. Maybe. Well, yes. Okay, but that’s not the reason I joined. Not the only reason, anyway.”

  “Right,” I said, laughing. “So why did you join?”

  “Shut up. It’s going to be interesting.”

  “I’m sure it will be fascinating,” I said, still smiling as I ate some buttered rice.

  “Well, how’s your love life progressing? How was your date yesterday?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it a ‘date,’” I said, lowering my voice. “I did the dumbest thing.” I told Hailey about how I’d accidentally declared my love to Michael.

  Hailey covered her mouth with both hands, she was laughing so hard. “Oh, Sammy! You didn’t!”

  I shook my head. “Yes, I did. Can you believe it?”

  “That’s even more extreme than asking a guy out on a date!” she said, laughing.

  “Ugh. Don’t remind me,” I said. Oops.

  “Remind you about what?” Hailey asked.

  Oh, I really wanted to tell her everything! I hated the secrets between us now. “Oh, just—”

  And then who should walk by but Scott Parker, bless his little heart. “Hey, Hailey,” he said as he walked by. The way he said it was kind of flat, like he was greeting her out of duty or something, but for a shy guy like him, I knew it was a major step for him to speak first, and especially when Hailey was sitting with a friend.

  Hailey, however, was speechless. I kicked her gently under the table, and she got my drift. “Oh, hey, Scott! How’s it going?”

  “Good.” He nodded, and he kept walking.

  We didn’t move a muscle to watch him walk away, though I know we both wanted to—especially Hailey! Instead we raised our eyebrows really high and looked sideways at each other with big smiles on our faces. Thaw Begins in Frozen Crush.

  “Yay, Hails!” I said.

  “Do you think that means he likes me?” she whispered.

  “Seems like it!” I said cautiously.

  “So what do I do now?” Hailey was beside herself.

  I flashed back to my mother’s advice from a week ago (had it really only been a week? It felt like months). Keep your advice open-ended. Don’t tell people to do anything you wouldn’t do.

  “Just take it nice and slow,” I advised. “Let it develop naturally.” Whatever you do, don’t ask him out, I added silently.

  That night I sat down at my computer to write the Dear Know-It-All column without an idea of what I would say. It took a while (okay, I was procrastinating, checking all the news sites, reading blogs, including Mrs. Moseby), but when it came, it came in a big fat rush. I read it and reread it until my eyes were blurry. It was a little raw and unpolished, but I kind of liked it like that. I took one last read and then I pushed send, and off it went to Mr. Trigg for editing.

  Here is what it said:

  Dear Tired of Waiting,

  I am sorry things worked out for you the way they did, and I am sorry my advice to you was bad. Looking back, it seems like you ignored the fact that your crush didn’t like you right from the beginning. Then you took my advice, and it made things worse, and for that I apologize. But to turn around and bully me for it, both in private and in public, as well as anonymously, was cowardly, dangerous, and hurtful.

  I am doing the best that I can with this column. I give the best possible advice I can give, based on my very limited knowledge of a situation. I try hard, and I try to give active solutions. I try to be positive, and I try to be right. Sometimes I’m wrong, and I admit it. But I don’t hide behind taunting or bullying or public shaming. I know that there is a real live person writing to me, just as I expect people to understand the same about me on this end. Just because we’re all anonymous in this column doesn’t mean none of us has feelings.

  The worst thing in life is to not take chances or try new things. It leaves you stagnant, and you can’t grow or change the world in your own special way. Most people try, and some try hard, to change things they don’t like. Complaining might feel good, but it’s not productive. It’s better to try to be part of a solution than sit around criticizing something. Someone with more guts than you might have said, “Hey, I tried something, and it didn’t work. Let’s share this information so others can learn from it.” But no, instead you holed up and just tormented me from a distance. I can’t help someone like you.

  To everyone else out there, keep on trying to change the world for the better. Stay strong, and don’t let the bullies get you down. And no matter what, never suffer in silence.

  Yours truly,

  Dear Know-It-All

  Chapter 13

  JOURNALISTS EFFECT CHANGE FOR THE BETTER

  When the next issue of the Cherry Valley Voice came out, the school was electric with feedback. Everyone was talking about the Dear Know-It-All rebuttal, cheering when they read it, and high-fiving. I felt great witnessing it. And Mr. Pfeiffer told Mr. Trigg that three different kids had come to him to report bullying, and while he wasn’t glad to hear it, he was glad they’d come. Even more, they’d come with friends who were there for moral support. That detail made me feel even better. No one should suffer alone.

  The lunch article was a smash hit too, and since Mr. Trigg had agreed it should be part of an ongoing s
eries, we would continue to check back in. He also noted that it would help keep things moving and developing if the administration knew they were going to be held accountable for their progress in the paper every other week.

  What ended up happening, besides the creation of the bonus item every day, was Mr. Pfeiffer and the science department agreed to incorporate a greenhouse growing unit into next term’s Earthonomics class. We’ll be growing six kinds of herbs, and Mary will come in once a week to demonstrate recipes using the herbs. Then we’ll get to vote on what we like, and she’ll incorporate the recipe into the “bonus” item rotation. Journalists Effect Change for the Better.

  Michael Lawrence saw me in the hall and gave me a high five. “You did it again!” He smiled.

  “Well, we did it again!” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “We did. But you really did the right thing.”

  I froze. Did Michael know?

  “Just out of Earthonomics class,” said Michael. “It’s going to be way more fun in the next couple weeks!”

  Whew. I think.

  At the library I e-mailed Allie an electronic copy of the lunch article, with photos, so she could post it as a PDF download on the high-school website. With Mrs. Moseby’s website so popular over there, it made sense that the older kids should know about the other half of Mary Bonner’s life.

  Meanwhile, Mr. Pfeiffer and Mary are going to take this year (I know, it seems like a long time, but at least they’re trying!) to develop a new lunch plan that will pass government muster. I am pretty hopeful they’ll get it through, even if they have to do it in some kooky backdoor way—like the way Mr. Pfeiffer got the new curriculum approved. You’ve got to give that guy credit. He does try.

  And speaking of trying, the day after the latest issue of the Cherry Valley Voice came out, Hailey grabbed me in the hall and dragged me into the ladies’ room. She checked under every stall and under the sinks (which I thought was a little extreme) to make sure no one was in there. I flashed back to my Dear Know-It-All spy games and I gave a little shudder. Finally, feeling secure, Hailey began to whisper.

  “So I went to chess club yesterday, and guess who I got paired up against?”

  “Oh, Hailey, that’s great! How did it go? Was he—”

  “Shh! Stop talking!” said Hailey.

  I clammed up.

  “He told me an unbelievable story. So get this. There was this really aggressive girl in his Spanish class. I didn’t know who she was, and now I can’t remember her name. Miranda something. I think I blocked it out. Anyway, she was always following him around, and then she started leaving notes in his locker, and then little creepy pink teddy bears and candy and stuff. He didn’t like her to start with, but after a while, he started to kind of hate her. It was a little scary. . . .”

  Oh my gosh. I think I knew where this was going, but I couldn’t say anything yet.

  “So after a while, it’s like she became sort of a bully. Like a love bully. All his friends would kind of laugh at her, but Scott was scared because when he finally told her he didn’t like her at all, she just got more relentless. Then one day she asked him out on a date, and it really freaked him. He told all his friends, and they laughed it off, but she was angry, and then she felt like everyone knew. So she started to kind of stalk him and be mean to him, like on Buddybook and stuff like that. And that’s why his cousin Amanda would meet him to walk him home every day. Because he was scared, but he didn’t want to tell his friends.”

  I thought I was going to faint. I sank down against the wall and put my head on my knees. Oh my gosh.

  “Hey, Sam. Are you okay? Hey!” Hailey squatted next to me and patted my arm. “What’s the matter?”

  “Oh, it’s just . . .”

  I had to tell her! She was my best friend! She could keep a secret. No one would ever find out. I just couldn’t do this alone anymore!

  But the door to the bathroom banged open, and a group of sixth graders came in to check themselves in the mirror, and the moment passed.

  “I know it’s a scary story, but, come on, get up off the floor at least,” said Hailey.

  I stood weakly, and she brought me a wet paper towel and began patting my face and the back of my neck with it.

  The sixth graders were oblivious, so Hailey kept talking in a quiet voice. “Anyway, when the Dear Know-It-All came out the other day, Scott read it and it changed his life, he said. It gave him courage, and he decided he’d better at least try to do something about this bully. So he went to Mr. Pfeiffer’s office with Amanda and his best friend, Joe Proctor, and they told him the whole story. And now the girl is being suspended indefinitely, but she has to come to school to talk with a counselor once a week.”

  Oh no. Suspended indefinitely? I started to feel worse, but then I remembered that my mom did say Tired—or Miranda, rather—clearly needed help. I guess it was for the best. I really hoped she would get help. Boys could really make you crazy.

  “Wow. Poor Scott,” I said,

  Hailey nodded, serious. “I know. I feel so bad for him.”

  “So I guess that’s why he’s so cautious with girls,” I said.

  Hailey nodded again. “Uh-huh. He’s really sweet. Do you think it means he likes me, if he told me that story?”

  I thought for a minute. This poor guy had enough on his plate without some new girl crushing on him hard. “Hailey, it means you’re his friend,” I said firmly. “And that’s pretty darn great. For now, I think that’s the best you’ll get. Don’t push the poor guy.”

  Hailey stared off into space, lost in thought. “Yeah . . . I just hope I don’t get tired of waiting. . . . I may just have to ask him out,” she said.

  I turned to her in a panic. “Hailey!” I cried. The sixth graders all went silent and turned to look at us.

  But Hailey was laughing. “Kidding! I’m just kidding!” she trilled. “Let’s go.”

  I ran into Michael at the bonus table at lunch. We were both buying baked kale chips from Bob. (I know, kale sounds gross, right? But it’s actually really good as chips!)

  “Hey, Pasty!” said Michael. “Stocking up on some snacks to keep that tummy quiet?”

  “Oh, shush, you!” I said, but he did make me laugh.

  “Saw Trigger this morning. He’s pretty psyched about the lunch article.”

  “Oh, I have to stop by to see him. When’s our next staff meeting again?”

  “Tomorrow after school.”

  “Right. Well, I’ll pop in today, then. I can’t wait that long to hear what he thinks.”

  “Hey, what are you up to later? Like after school today? We have a short practice because they don’t want to tire us out before the homecoming game this weekend. I was thinking . . . Do you to come over and brainstorm some ideas for stories? I can make my world-famous cinnamon buns while we’re thinking. I know you work better when your stomach is full.”

  Was this a date? Was Michael Lawrence asking me out? Or was he asking me in? Uh-oh. I started to laugh.

  But then his face fell. “Or whatever, sorry. I’m sure you’re really busy and stuff, so maybe . . .”

  I swatted him. “Of course I’d love to come. It just made me laugh because of an inside joke I have with Hailey. Anyway, count me in! I’ll go to the library and knock off some homework while you practice.”

  Michael still looked nervous. “I hope the joke’s not about me?” he said.

  “Oh, no.” Lie, lie, lie. “It’s about . . . buns!” I blurted. Oh no! Even worse! And I felt my face turning red. “But not your buns! I mean. Oh gosh. Just . . . I’ll see you after school.” I turned on my heel like an idiot and raced off.

  “Bye, Sam!” Bob called after me. How mortifying. He’d witnessed the whole thing! But at least he wasn’t anonymous anymore.

  I turned around and waved with a dorky smile. “Bye, Bob! Thanks for the chips!”

  “Anytime!” he replied.

  I had fifteen minutes before my next class, so I took the opportuni
ty to pop into Trigger’s office.

  He was there.

  “Hey, Mr. Trigg!” I called, crossing the newsroom.

  “Ms. Martone! I’m so happy to see you! Do come in!” he replied.

  I went and stood in his doorway as I had countless times before.

  He pushed back his chair and clasped his hands across his middle. “Ms. Martone, what a wonderful issue of the Cherry Valley Voice we have this week. And much thanks are due to you.”

  I could feel myself blushing. “It was . . . an interesting process,” I said.

  “Not an ideal one,” said Mr. Trigg sadly.

  “Is the girl . . . is she going to be all right?” I asked in a whisper.

  Mr. Trigg nodded firmly. “Yes, in fact, she was relieved to have been brought in and given some help. Now she’s on a better track.”

  “I just feel so guilty all the time,” I said, wincing as I thought of the pain I’d accidentally caused Scott Parker.

  “Ms. Martone, none of this was your fault. It had been going on for quite some time before you got involved. And your reaction to all of it has done a world of good for this community. Look, weeding out the bad guys and calling them on their crimes . . . That’s what the very best journalists do!”

  “I guess,” I said. “It’s not exactly objective journalism.”

  “Pshaw!” said Mr. Trigg dismissively. “It’s journalistic activism, and you’re quite adept at it. I’d say you’re one of the lucky few who has found her calling at quite a young age.” He smiled at me. “Now, in the words of the immortal Winston Churchill, ‘Let us go forward together.’”

  I grinned. “Thanks, Mr. Trigg. Will do!”

  As I left his office, that same old poster caught my eye and gave me the usual thrill.

  “Your Courage, Your Cheerfulness, Your Resolution Will Bring Us Victory.”

  You’re darn right, I thought. I strode out the door to Earthonomics with a spring in my step. Life was good.

  That afternoon, I left the library with butterflies in my stomach. I was going to Michael Lawrence’s house! I ducked into the girls’ room, combed my hair, and checked my teeth in the mirror (to make sure there wasn’t any food stuck in them). I pinched my cheeks to brighten them, and I smiled at myself. I felt happier than I had in more than a week.