Set the Record Straight! (10 page)

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 of 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.

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.

“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.