A World of Trouble (31 page)

I look at her hand. Think about it. I'm still twiddling my thumbs when there's a knock on the door.

“Ah, Annika?” GS George calls out. “We have a bit of a . . . situation? Outside? With one of the Kilter Karts? It's kind of stuck at a hundred miles per hour—with Abe inside.”

Annika jumps up. “Don't go anywhere.”

“I won't. Promise.”

There's that word again.

Annika leaves. My K-Pak buzzes. I take the mini computer from my backpack and open the new message.

TO:
[email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT:
You, the Person

Dear Seamus,

What do you do when the person your parents want you to be isn't who YOU want to be? That's an excellent question. When you find out the answer, let me know.

In the meantime, it might help to remember that our parents were once kids themselves. Whenever
I'm unhappy with my mom or dad, I always picture them half as tall with freckles, braces, and only their stuffed animals for company. And that makes it much easier to get past any anger, hurt, or frustration I might be feeling. At least for a little while.

That said, DO you know the person you want to be? If so, do you have any tips for figuring it out? Because I'm thirty years old . . . and I'm still not sure.

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

With kind regards,

Miss Parsippany

I close the note. Put my K-Pak in my backpack. Take it out when it buzzes again.

No new messages. I exit K-Mail, then open it again. Still nothing.

That's strange. I definitely heard buzzing.

Autopilot raises my eyes to the far end of the table . . . where Annika's K-Pak sits unattended.

I shouldn't look. I
know
I shouldn't look. But she just said she took away her access to other accounts. Was she lying? In the midst of clearing the air?

If this is going to work, I have to know. So I stand up. Tiptoe down the side of the table. And press the flashing digital envelope on Annika's K-Pak screen.

As it turns out, Miss Parsippany's note didn't reach Annika's computer.

But another one did.

TO:
[email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT:
My Son, Seamus Hinkle

Dear Ms. Kilter,

Hello. How are you? I hope the spring semester is off to a lovely start.

I hope you don't mind my writing. To be honest, I've been going back and forth about whether I should ever since my son, Seamus Hinkle, returned to Kilter last month. In the end, I decided I must. It's in everyone's best interests, but especially Seamus's.

You see, you kindly accepted my son late last semester upon learning he accidentally (supposedly)
killed his substitute teacher with an apple in the school cafeteria. I was so elated by this acceptance, I sent him off without waiting for official confirmation of his teacher's passing. Since then, I've learned that, unfortunately, the teacher survived. Which means, unfortunately, that Seamus is not a murderer.

If I know my son, and I think I do, he's already shared this information with you. It didn't sit well with him when he learned the truth himself while home for the holidays, and I'm sure he wouldn't feel right continuing at Kilter under false pretenses. That'd be like cheating on a final exam, which, also unfortunately, isn't something Seamus would do.

I expect this news will likely affect your estimation of my son's Troublemaking qualifications. I understand, but I ask—no, I beg—you to keep in mind all of his recent accomplishments. Seamus might not be a natural-born Troublemaker, but he's a fast learner. And I know he has what it takes to succeed at Kilter.

Also, he can't come home. For lots of reasons,
but mostly because we've given away his room. To another talented young man named Bartholomew John Baker. Perhaps you've heard of him?

Thank you in advance for your time and consideration.

With great respect and admiration,

Judith Hinkle

I look up. White spots swirl across my vision. I close my eyes. Open them. Close them. The spots multiply. I try to replace them with images of Mom, Dad, and Annika as kids, but instead I see Lemon. Abe. Gabby. Elinor. Even little Molly Lubbard of Hoyt, Kentucky.

Who do I want to be? The jury's still out on that one. But I have a pretty good idea of who I
don't
want to be.

The kind of person who lets any bully, young or old, walk all over him, pick him up, and throw him back down for someone else to do the same.

Which is why I close Mom's e-mail. Delete it from Annika's K-Mail account.

And join my friends outside.

DON'T MISS OUT ON ANY OF THE MISCHIEF!

THE BAD APPLE

A WORLD OF TROUBLE

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ALADDIN

An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division

1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

www.SimonandSchuster.com

First Aladdin hardcover edition May 2013

Copyright © 2013 by Tricia Rayburn

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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.

Designed by Karina Granda

The text of this book was set in Bembo.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Burns, T. R., 1978–

A world of trouble / by T.R. Burns. — First Aladdin hardcover edition.

p. cm. — (Merits of mischief ; book 2)

Summary: More mischief and trouble abound during Seamus Hinkle's second semester at Kilter Academy, where the students earn credit for behaving badly and the adults are keeping huge secrets.

ISBN 978-1-4424-4032-6 (hc)

[1. Behavior—Fiction. 2. Boarding schools—Fiction. 3. Schools—Fiction. 4. Tricks—Fiction. 5. Humorous stories.] I. Title.

PZ7.B937455Wo 2013

[Fic]—dc23

2012031542

ISBN 978-1-4424-4034-0 (eBook)