Set the Record Straight! (9 page)

Finally, I said, “Mr. Trigg. It's Sam Martone.”

“Ms. Martone! Whatever is the matter?” Mr. Trigg's voice was full of concern.

“Mr. Trigg, my . . . my advice backfired, and the person I gave it to is, um, kind of stalking me.”

“Stalking you! Whatever do you
mean
?” I could hear the alarm in his voice.

“Well, first she sent me some mean letters at the Dear Know-It-All mailbox. Then she sent me a bunch of mean e-mails. Like, forty-two in a row last time I checked . . .”

“Forty-two e-mails! That's outrageous! I've been so busy since I got back, I haven't had a chance to check the Dear Know-It-All e-mails yet.”

“Well, there may be more. I stopped checking a few days ago. But today she posted something on the high school's Buddybook wall that I should ‘come out, come out, wherever I am.' I shuddered, just thinking of it again.

“My goodness!” Mr. Trigg shouted. “You're being cyberbullied! I'm calling Mr. Pfeiffer, and we'll get to the bottom of this! Oh, Ms. Martone, I wish you'd told me earlier!”

“But you were away! I didn't want to bother you!”

“Ms. Martone, this is a very serious matter. This is the very sort of thing you
should
bother me about! I hope you've told your mother!”

“Well . . . now I wish I had, but I thought I could handle it. Then when I knew I couldn't, I just kind of ignored it. But I guess that only made it grow bigger.”

“Oh dear me, deary me! Alrighty, please, by all means, get your mother up to speed. I will speak with Mr. Pfeiffer, and then I will give her a ring on this number. . . . This is her mobile phone, correct?”

He pronounced it “MO-bye-ul.” I had to smile a tiny bit. “Yes.”

“Oh, and Ms. Martone, I am so very, very sorry that this happened to you. I am sorry that your term as Dear Know-It-All was so fraught and so brief. Now let's both run along. I don't want you
to worry. You've done nothing wrong, and we're going to help fix this.” And he hung up.

I sat in the hedge, staring at the MO-bye-ul in my hands. Then I realized he had said my term was “brief.” He assumed I was quitting. That I was done with being Dear Know-It-All. Huh. I guessed I was. I waited to feel a huge relief, a weight lifted off my shoulders, but it didn't come. Maybe later it would, after I'd spoken to my mom and the grown-ups had sorted this out and dealt with it all. I was sure I'd feel better then.

Right?

Allie was in the kitchen in a flash when I opened the door. “How did it go?” she asked. Then she stopped dead in her tracks. “Wait! Did he make you cry? That little rat! I'm calling his brothers.” She turned to stomp back up the stairs.

“No! Stop, Allie! I . . . chickened out. That's why I'm crying. I just . . . I chickened out.” I shrugged and tried to look forlorn, so she'd feel pity instead of rage. It worked.

“Poor baby,” she said, hugging me again. Wow,
between my tears and her hugs, we were breaking all sorts of records around here. “But maybe it's better. That outfit is all wrong.”

My mom came in, freshly showered and changed into what she calls her “cozy clothes”: leggings, a T-shirt, and socks. Her hair was up in a wet ponytail.

“Allie, I need to talk to mom now. In private, please,” I said.

Allie looked at me and then at Mom, then back again. Finally she shrugged and said, “Whatever,” and left.

I looked at Mom and said, “Can we go for a walk?”

“Love to,” said my mom.

Once outside, and well away from Allie's window, I spilled my guts. I told my mom everything, and she just listened, asking a question here and there for clarity, but mostly just making appropriate noises. She was furious at Tired, and upset that I hadn't come to her sooner. When I finished she said, “Oh, honey,” and she wrapped me in a big bear hug and rocked me from side to side. It felt good, but I didn't want anyone to see us.

“Later, Mom,” I mumbled into her shoulder.
“Save this for home. I don't want anyone to see us and get suspicious.”

“Right,” she said, pulling away. “Look straight ahead and act natural,” she added. I looked at her quickly to see if she was teasing me, but maybe she was getting into the spy thing just like Mr. Trigg.

“So you'll call Trigger when we get home?” I confirmed.

“Trigger?” My mom looked at me with a smile. “Oh, Mr. Trigg. Of course. And then I'm calling the principal. This is pretty serious, Samantha. I'm concerned.”

“Oh, Mom, no, don't. It's not that bad.”

My mom stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face me. “Yes it is that bad. It is, Sammy. What are you waiting for? For this person to track you down and . . . and, well, who knows what? This is a bully, Sam. A bully. She needs to be stopped. And she needs help. I'll be calling the principal, and maybe even the police, for both of your sakes.”

“The police?” I shrieked. “But they can't come to the house. Allie will find out.”

My mother was about to say,
Forget Allie
, I could tell. But then she reconsidered. “Fine. We won't blow your cover. But I'm going to school first thing tomorrow.”

Oh boy.

“And I'm calling Mr. Trigg the second we get home.”

When we got home, my mom sent Allie to get takeout for dinner and an ice-cream cake for dessert, which is my favorite. I guess Allie thought I looked so pathetic that she didn't even complain. “That ought to keep her out for a while,” my mom said sternly. I smiled.

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.

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.