Digital Disaster! (12 page)

I wanted to jump up with joy. I didn't, of course, but I couldn't help
beaming. I glanced around and everyone was nodding and calling out things like, “Good
job, Sam!” Except for Will Hutchins. As usual, he kept his eyes straight ahead, his face
shaded by his hood. I looked at him a little more closely and noticed a small smile on
his face. Interesting. I really hoped that what Michael heard was true, that we were
actually going to find out what happened!

I floated through the rest of my day. The paper was out—check. Second math
test taken—check. Now all I had to do was get through the rest of the day. Then it would
be Spring Fling. During my last class of the day—which also happened to have Michael in
it—our teacher reached into her desk and pulled out a pile of papers and asked a student
to hand them out. “This is being handed out to all students at the same time,” she said.
“Please read it carefully and share it with your parents.” I grabbed mine, my heart in
my throat, and my eyes raced over the words.

Dear students and parents,

The recent security breach of the math department's computer files has been
traced back to a student at our school. This student has been suspended for three weeks
and will begin a mandatory counseling and tutoring program in order to help this person
make better academic and ethical decisions in the future. At this time, the school will
not be pressing charges. Our systems are now much better protected and should not be
vulnerable to any security breaches in the future. Much appreciation goes to the IT
consultants who were brought in to resolve the matter, along with all the members of the
IT club, led by Will Hutchins, for their assistance in the research and in rebuilding
our system. I hope we have learned as a school that no one wins in a situation like this
and that we can work together to continue to be honest, upstanding citizens of Cherry
Valley Middle School. Please address any further concerns you have about this matter to
me.

Sincerely,

Principal Pfeiffer

Michael and I met each other in the hallway, each gripping the notice.

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” he said.

“Probably. This means Will didn't do it,” I said in a low voice. “He's in
the IT club. He was on the good guy team this whole time. Huh. I guess you can't jump to
conclusions until you really know the facts.”

“Spoken like a true reporter.”

“Do you think we'll ever know who it was?” I asked.

“I guess we will, eventually. It can't stay a secret forever. People will
figure it out. I don't think anyone I know well was absent today.”

“Me neither.” I did feel some sympathy for the hacker now that it was all
over. He or she was probably pretty scared and confused right now. Hopefully they would
get the help they needed. It wasn't going to be an easy road for them.

When we walked out of school together, I saw a few people go up to Will
and pat him on the back. His hood was off and he looked happier than I had ever seen
him. Once again, I learned that things are never exactly how they appear.

The next day the sun was shining and it was a little warm for spring,
perfect amusement park weather. After all that had happened I was ready for a day off.
It seemed like everyone was, and we were all smiling and joking. Hailey and I walked
around, stuffing our faces with cotton candy and soft pretzels and trying out all the
wimpy rides. I wasn't sure if my stomach could handle anything serious after all the
junk I had eaten. I was kind of excited about the prospect of the Ferris wheel with
Michael. Hailey and I had worked out a plan so we'd all be standing in front of it at
the same time.

But then we saw Michael standing in front of the Triple Terror Roller
Coaster. He came over to us with a gleam in his eye.

“Hey, Paste, want to go on it with me?” he said, pointing behind his back
at the monstrous black and red roller coaster, which sped backward, forward, and went
upside down. I had never been on anything close. I shook my head.

“Don't tell me the girl who's not afraid to ask anyone anything if it's
for the paper is scared to go on that?”

I gave Hailey a helpless look. This wasn't the Ferris wheel plan at
all.

“You go, girl,” Hailey said, a giddy thrill in her voice.

“What about you?” I asked.

“Someone needs to take pictures!” She whipped out her digital camera,
running over to a nearby bench.
Best Friend
Abandons Ship!
Before I knew what was happening, Michael grabbed my arm and
led me up the steps toward the line. This was not what I'd imagined. Well, the arm
grabbing was. But not the pulsing fear that was running through my body.

I held on to Michael's arm for dear life as we twisted backward, forward,
and upside down. I knew I was holding his arm, but I wasn't holding it and getting a
nice warm feeling. I was getting a terrified “oh my goodness what have I done please get
me off” feeling. When I got off, my head was really spinning and the color had drained
from my face.

“You okay?” Michael asked, now truly concerned. “Let's find you a seat.
Gosh. I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you sick.”

“I'm fine,” I said in a shaky voice. Then he put his arm around me and
guided me to a bench. His arm around me made my knees buckle even more and kind of blew
the Ferris wheel fantasy out of the water. If only I hadn't felt like I was going to
throw up. Michael and Hailey sat with me for a while as I tried to settle myself. Then
Hailey decided to go on a few rides with Jenna and Kristen and left me sitting alone
with Michael.

After a while Michael asked me if I wanted to get up and walk around for a
bit. “You look a little better,” he said.

“I'll try.” Maybe moving around would make me feel less nauseous. I wasn't
going to let anything ruin my Spring Fling. I deserved this! We went over to the game
section. There was a game where you had to throw a baseball at a moving catcher's mitt.
Michael went right over to it. I followed.

“Watching me play isn't going to make you sick, is it?” Michael asked,
still worried.

“Don't be silly. Go play.” I pointed to the game. He went over and let his
baseball expertise take over. Every ball he threw landed hard in the catcher's mitt. He
missed only the last one. The man running the game handed him a huge pink-and-yellow
stuffed elephant. He took it and proudly offered it to me.

“If this doesn't make you feel better, I don't know what will!” he
said.

“Awww, but I already have one,” I responded.

He looked crestfallen.

“I'm kidding!” I said, taking the elephant.

“If you're making jokes, then you must feel better,” he said. He smiled
and his bright blue eyes sparkled at me. “Working with you is always a great
roller-coaster ride, Pasty!”

“You too, Mikey,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, but inside I was
thrilled. I clutched the elephant and noticed that I didn't feel that sick anymore. “I
think my new friend cured me.” I held up the elephant. Then I gave it a little hug. I
wished I could give Michael Lawrence a hug, but I wasn't sure I should. Plus, I still
felt a little queasy.

I realized that maybe my plans didn't always go as I
expected. You can picture something in your mind right down to the last detail, but that
doesn't mean it's going to happen exactly that way. There will always be twists and
turns. But sometimes the revised version is even better than the original.

Extra! Extra!

Want the scoop on what Samantha is up to next?

Here's a sneak peek of the seventh book in the Dear Know-It-All
series:

Black and White and Gray All
Over

 

Foreign Stranger Steals Girl's Life!

 

I don't want to brag, but I think my dream of becoming a reporter
one day is well on its way to really happening. I write a lot of articles for the
Cherry Valley Voice,
my middle school newspaper (okay, not just
I—I write with my supercrush, Michael Lawrence). But our last few articles
especially have gotten a lot of praise. Kids stop me in the hall and say things like
I really liked what you wrote about Pay to Play
or
Way to go on your coverage of the cheating scandal!
It's
totally cool and it feels great!

I also get lots of anonymous compliments because I write the advice column
called Dear Know-It-All for the paper. No one at school, and I mean
no one
—not even my best friend, Hailey Jones—knows that I am the
Know-It-All this year, but I do overhear kids saying really nice things about the
Know-It-All responses (My responses!) in the paper. All this, plus Mr. Trigg, the
faculty advisor for the
Voice
, has taken to automatically
giving me and Michael the plum assignments. He calls us the Dream Team, his “star
reporters.” I love it! Of course, I'd love anything officially linking me
with Michael, Mr. Cutie himself.

Sadly, my nearest and dearest just don't get it. Like yesterday, I
was tutoring Hailey for her grammar exam (she's dyslexic, and I always help her
with her studying for tests), and I said something flat out, just a fact, and she got
annoyed with me. All I said was, “You're lucky your best friend happens to
be the best writer in the school.” I'm not making it up. It's a fact.
But Hailey told me I need to get over myself. I mean, maybe Michael Lawrence is as good
a writer as I am, but it's not like he's going to tutor Hailey, right? I was
just making conversation, stating the obvious. I don't know why she got so upset
about it.

Then at dinner I was telling my mom and my older sister, Allie, about a
new writing camp I'd like to attend this summer and how I have to be nominated by
a teacher at school in order to apply. I said it's a total no-brainer because Mr.
Trigg will do it for me. After all, besides Michael, there's really no one on the
newspaper staff who's as good as I am. It's just a fact. But Allie was all
snide and said, “Oh, sorry! I forgot about all those Pulitzer Prizes you've
won,” and my mom (
my very own mom!
) told me not to get a
big head. Whatever, people. I am all about facts, and this is just a fact: I'm a
great reporter.

Today we have our staff meeting for the next issue, when Mr. Trigg will
dole out the assignments for our new articles, and I can't wait. I know I'll
get to work with Michael again (hello, quality time with my crushie!) and I know
I'll get a juicy, hard-hitting article to report, and I know Mr. Trigg will sing
my praises in public like he always does.

I got to the newsroom a little early in order to get a good seat and save
a spot for Michael, who always dashes in at the last minute. I snagged the little sofa
just inside the door—the best spot—and I spread out my stuff to keep people
away from Michael's half of the sofa. Then I pulled out my latest fresh notebook
and began making a list of things I need to do after school today, including stop by the
Dear Know-It-All mailbox to collect any new letters and check my bank balance to see if
I can afford to buy two new long skirts—kind of my new trademark look—since
Allie pointed out that mine are all trashed at the bottom hems. I hate to shop and find
it totally boring, plus it kills me to spend money on clothes, but Allie insists on it
when the things I own get too dingy.

The newsroom filled up, and sure enough, just as Mr. Trigg came out of his
office and strode to the front of the room, Michael popped in the door. He looked at me
on the sofa and gestured to the empty spot (as if it wasn't him I was saving it
for!). I nodded and quickly cleared my things, and he settled in right next to me,
totally cozy. I had to take a moment to think,
This is one of the
happiest days of my life
.