Digital Disaster! (9 page)

“I think you might want to pick another question,” he went on.
“This topic just seems too personal for you. I'm also worried you're
spending too much time on the letter and not enough time on the article.”

I let out my breath and sat down. This was not what I wanted to hear.
Newspaper Advisor Offers Up Tea and Bad News.
In fact,
he might as well have punched me in the stomach. Had I lost touch with reality? Why
couldn't I write this letter?

“I don't know why it works me up so much,” I said in a
high, whiny tone, even though I didn't mean to be. “I just work so hard at
everything I do and people like Rock Star make me mad.”

“I understand. But it's not your job to save someone or teach
them a lesson. Rock Star isn't everyone at the school. Most people are honest and
try their best. Rock Star just might not be sure how to do that. I'm not saying
it's okay, but maybe you know someone who hasn't always been honest but is
still a good person. Remember, we all make mistakes. Try to think of that person when
you write the letter. Put yourself in their shoes just a little bit. Or pick a different
letter.”

I thought about it for a second. Allie! Allie had cheated once.
She'd learned her lesson and now is probably a better student for it.

“Okay. I think I can do that.”

“Good. And remember, the article you're working on is a big
one. It needs your focus.”

I nodded, thanked Mr. Trigg, and hurried out of his office and off to
class.

After school I walked in the door and called out to my mother, “Mom,
are you here?” I hadn't told her Michael was coming over today. I hoped she
wouldn't be upset. But as long as she didn't have to drive me anywhere, she
usually was okay with my last-minute plans.

“Yes, in my office,” Mom called. I dropped my backpack in the
hallway and went into her office, a little room near her bedroom. She sat in her chair,
surrounded by papers, her computer, a calculator, pens, pencils, a highlighter, and a
little jar of Wite-Out.

“Got a little work, Mom?” I said, smiling. My work was nothing
compared to what was going on in this office.

“Do I ever.” Mom rubbed her eyes. “I like my work, but
sometimes there's too much of a good thing.”

“Sorry, Mom. I know how you feel. I have to finish this newspaper
article on the test scandal. Is it okay if Michael comes over and we work on
it?”

Mom's face perked up. “Of course,” she said in a knowing
way. “I wouldn't say no to that!”

“Mom, don't get all weird about it. We just have to finish the
article. It's not a date or anything,” I said, but in my heart I knew that
any time I spent with Michael had date possibilities. I was definitely excited to finish
the article, but he was also my friend. I needed a break from thinking about all these
serious issues and some more downtime. From the looks of it, so did Mom. That one night
at Rosie's hadn't quite cut it.

“I'm not getting weird. I'm too tired to be
weird,” Mom said, and glanced around her desk.

“Don't forget to breathe,” I said. “In through the
nose and out through the mouth.”

Mom took a deep breath. “Ahhhh, thanks. That does feel
relaxing.”

I went into my room and looked through my closet. I picked out a cool
white T-shirt with a sequined design of a butterfly on it and my favorite jeans. Then I
put on a little pink lip gloss and brushed my hair. There. I looked fresh and pretty,
but not like I actually spent time getting dressed for the occasion.

I went into the kitchen to see what I could offer Michael. I don't
think I could quite equal homemade banana bread, but I could make him my famous
microwave popcorn.

I decided to start the popcorn before he came since I was feeling a little
snacky, one of Michael's many ridiculous nicknames for me. If I felt hungry, I
wasn't going to be any fun. I popped a big bag and was just pouring it into a
bowl, lots of steam rising up into my face, when there was a knock on the door.

“Coming,” I yelled, and padded over in my bare feet. Allie had
also given me an Aqua Fantasy pedicure, so anytime I had the chance to bare my shiny
toes, I took it.

“Hi,” I said, greeting Michael at the door.

“Hey,” he said. “What smells good?”

“Not cinnamon buns or banana bread. So don't get too excited.
Just my famous microwave popcorn. I've been cooking all day.” I dramatically
swept my hand over my forehead. He looked like he had just showered. His hair was still
wet and he had that clean soapy/freshly laundered smell.
Crush
Smells Way Better Than Popcorn.

“A snack perfect for a snacky girl,” he said. I couldn't
help but laugh.

We went into the kitchen and sat at the counter, a big bowl of popcorn
between us, and got down to work. We showed each other what we had and started combining
and shaping the story.

“So do you think the main point of this piece is ultimately the huge
effect one kid's mistake can have on a lot of people?” I said after a while.
Then I took a piece of popcorn, threw it up in the air, and tried to catch it in my
mouth. It bounced off my nose and onto the floor.

“Let me show you how it's done,” Michael said. He threw
one up in the air and opened his mouth. Instead it bounced off his chin.

I couldn't help but giggle. “How on earth did you do that?
Show me your secret!” I asked, faking an amazed supergirly voice.

“Ha-ha,” he said, and tried again. This time it made it into
his mouth. “Score!”

Then I tried and scored as well. We both did it several more times, with
more popcorn landing on the floor than in our mouths.

“Okay, back to the question,” Michael said, as he helped me
pick up the popcorn. “I think so. Also it's about why having the retest was
actually important even though many students felt it was unfair. Sometimes what might be
good for the whole community is not always what the individual wants.”

“I think we covered both sides of both sides. Does that make
sense?”

“Perfect sense!” Michael said, and tossed up another piece of
popcorn, this time nailing it.

It was nice that we were so in sync about the story. It wasn't
always the case when we worked on a piece, but I had been through enough inner drama
with the subject matter and was glad that Michael and I ultimately didn't have any
major drama while writing it.

“I don't mind typing all this up and e-mailing you what we
wrote here so we both have it. Let's upload it tomorrow in the template and we can
tweak it online over the next few days. We don't go ‘live' until
Tuesday.”

“Are you sure you don't mind doing that?” he asked.

“No problem,” I said. “I'm an expert
typist.” I flexed my biceps. I didn't mind the extra typing. It actually
relaxed me.

“Thanks. Sounds like a good plan, because the day after the launch
happens to be the day of the class trip,” Michael said. “And I want to be
able to enjoy it without worrying about the issue.”

“Once again, I like how you think, Mikey,” I said.

“Always a pleasure to snack and write with you,” Michael said
as he held out his hand for a handshake and gave me his award-winning grin. My heart did
a little flip as I shook his strong hand.

The next day we put the story up and were able to cut and edit it right in
the
Voice
layout. It was much easier than I'd thought it
would be, and since we didn't have to get the story in days early and could work
right up until pub day, I finally found myself with a little time on my hands. Michael
seemed more relaxed about it too. We had only a few spots we wanted to tighten up and
that certainly could wait until next week.

I saw Hailey walking down the hall in front of me when I left the
Voice
office and Michael had already left for a late game he
had. “Hails!” I called behind her. She had just gotten done with soccer
practice and was ready to go home. “So glad I caught you. It's Friday! Movie
tonight? Or a sleepover?”

“Both!” she said, and linked arms with me. We walked straight
out of school into a day of freedom. On the way out, I saw Will Hutchins holding his
backpack tight on his shoulders.

“Hailey, hold on a sec,” I said. The girl may leave reporting
for a bit, but the reporter never leaves the girl.

She sighed at me and rolled her eyes. “You're obsessed,”
she hissed at me.

“A little,” I said. “Don't worry. I promise it
will be short.”

I walked ahead of her to catch up with him. “Hey, Will. Do you have
a minute?” I called to him as sweetly as I could. He peered at me out of his
hood.

“Yeah, I guess,” he murmured. “Are you gonna take
notes?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean do you want another quote from me for the paper?” he
asked.

Maybe I was obsessed.
School Reporter Comes
Dangerously Close to Stalking Student
. Not really, but after this I promised
myself I would back off. “No. The article's pretty much done,” I said,
trying to sound mellow. It was true, sort of. We certainly could add anything we wanted
up until Tuesday.

“No, I'm just interested in your point of view since
you're a student and . . .”

“And what?”

Good question. What was I going to tell him? You're a computer
expert and have acted suspicious during this whole incident and I want to see if you did
it?

I stood up tall and gathered myself for a second. “And you're
a computer expert,” I said slowly. “
And
you seem
to have some strong opinions on the subject. I noticed you were at the parent/teacher
meeting. What did you think of the outcome?” I asked, hoping I wouldn't
chase him away.

“I thought”—he paused and took off his
hood—“I thought that things are messed up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what I just said. It's too bad for everyone—the
hacker, the students, the teachers, the parents. It's just messed up.”

“So you do think a kid at this school was the hacker?” I
asked, slipping into investigative reporter mode.

He just looked at me. “I gotta go,” he said in a low tone and
hurried away.

Hailey walked up to me. “He's strange.”

“He certainly acts like he's hiding something,” I said,
shaking my head. “But I don't think I'm ever going to find out what it
is.”

“Maybe not,” Hailey said. “But it's not your job.
Right now your job is to have fun with me.”

“Yes, ma'am,” I replied, and we linked arms and sang
“Follow the Yellow Brick Road” while we skipped home like lunatics.
The Wizard of Oz
had been one of our favorites in elementary
school. Hailey and I have probably seen it together twenty times.

Hailey came to my house and a little later her mom dropped off
Hailey's stuff. Allie was at a friend's house, so we didn't have to
worry about her yelling at us to turn the music down or being nosy in general. First we
checked out Buddybook. I refuse to actually be a member since I'm afraid
I'll get nothing else done if I am, but I keep track of things through Hailey so
I'm not completely in the dark. We checked out Michael's page and sifted
through some cute baseball pics that some of the team members tagged him in. There was
one of him pitching that I kept going back to. He looked so intense and serious. I loved
how Michael really put his all in everything he did.

“Hey,” I said. “Do you know if Will Hutchins on
Buddybook?”

“Uh-oh. Here we go again,” she grumbled, but looked him up
anyway.

He was. There were lots of pictures of him and his dog and a few of him
skateboarding. He actually posted a lot, mostly song lyrics and inspirational sayings.
He had a lot of “buddies,” which surprised me, and he didn't keep his
posts private, which meant you could see them even if you weren't his buddy. They
were all public. He seemed like such a loner at school. This was another time things
weren't exactly as they appeared. His most recent post, which he made yesterday,
really caught my attention, though.

Getting close
was all it said. A bunch of
people, mostly kids in the IT club, gave a “thumbs-up” to his post, but
nobody made any comments.

“Huh,” Hailey said. “I wonder what that
means.”

“See? Now you're getting why I'm obsessed,” I
said.

“Well, I'll keep tabs on his posts for you,” she said.
“But now let's get ready for the movies!”

We tried on a thousand outfits, blasted our music, made up some really
awful dance moves, and acted just like two girls who didn't have a care in the
world.

Chapter 10

Missing Reporter Finally Found Having Good Time!