Revenge of the Geek (24 page)

I opened up a new window and ran a Google search on Enzo Lowry.

“Here’s his Wikipedia entry,”I said, scanning over it. “It says he committed suicide in 2009. He was thirty-two.”

“That’s so sad. He was so young,”Hannah said.

“And so incredibly talented,”I added, continuing to read. “Apparently he wrote one book before he died, and it was a critical hit but hardly sold any copies. That’s why he became suicidal.”

“Nora probably thought she was safe copying from him,”Emmett said.

“Now that I’ve found this, what do I do?”I asked.

“You bust her,”Hannah said.

“Do you think I should confront her? Or go straight to Candace?”I asked.

“There’s no point in confronting Nora. She knows what she did. She just didn’t think she’d get caught,”Hannah pointed out.

“That’s true,”I said. I hesitated. “But I’m not sure I want to go to Candace, either.”

“Why not?”Hannah asked.

“She intimidates me,”I admitted. “Plus, she knows that I wanted my short story to be published. If I’m the one who tells her about Nora, won’t it look like sour grapes?”

“You could do it anonymously,”Hannah suggested.

I shook my head. “Tempting, but no. That would be cowardly.”

“Who’s the faculty adviser for the magazine?”Emmett asked.

“Mrs. Gordon,”I said.

“Tell her,”Emmett suggested.

I nodded slowly. Mrs. Gordon was exactly the person I should talk to. She was kind and supportive and had always had an open-door policy with her students.

“I think you’re right,”I said. “I’ll talk to Mrs. Gordon.”

But before I talked to the faculty adviser, I decided to first talk to Dex. I sent him a text to see whether he was available. It took him a bit longer than usual to respond. While I waited, I used some of my nervous energy to clean up my desk, which looked like a bomb had exploded on it.

My cell phone chirped at me. I checked it, and there was a message from Dex saying he was online and ready to talk. I signed onto Skype and called him.

“Hey,”Dex said. He smiled, but looked concerned. “Is everything okay? We weren’t supposed to talk until after dinner.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Is this a bad time?”I asked.

“Sort of. I was in a study group at the library,”Dex said.

“Where are you now? Outside?”I asked. “I can see the trees behind you.”

“Yeah, I’m sitting on a bench outside the library. Do you want to see the campus?”Dex asked. He turned his laptop slowly around, giving me a passing view of Brown Academy. It looked very pretty, with lots of rolling green spaces, leafy trees, and redbrick buildings covered in ivy.

“Very nice,”I said, when he was back on camera again. “Do you want to go back to your study group? You can call me later.”

“No, I’d much rather talk to you,”Dex said, smiling at me. Even over the Internet, I could see the light in his eyes.

“Good. Because I need your advice on something,”I said.

“I’ll do my best,”Dex said.

I filled Dex in on what I’d discovered about Nora that afternoon.

He whistled. “That’s really bad,”he said. “Couldn’t she get kicked out of school for that?”

“Yep. Geek High has an honor code. If you violate it, you can be expelled. And plagiarizing would definitely be considered a serious violation,”I said.

“I wonder why she did it. She had to know there was a risk she’d be caught,”Dex said.

“I don’t know. I guess she must have just really wanted the attention. Or maybe she just really wanted to beat me out,”I said.

“But she didn’t beat you. Not fair and square. How could she take any pleasure in winning if she knows she didn’t deserve it?”Dex asked.

“Who knows?”I said, shrugging.

“So what part of this do you need advice on?”

I hesitated. “I was thinking I should tell the faculty adviser for
The Ampersand
about this. But if I do that, Nora’s going to get in serious trouble.”

“Sure she will,”Dex said. “But that’s not your fault. You didn’t make her cheat.”

“But the only reason I uncovered the fact that she did cheat was that I’ve been jealous of her. First, it felt like she was taking over my friends. Then she got her short story accepted over mine,”I said.

“So what? You think you had impure motives?”Dex asked, looking skeptical.

“Well, didn’t I?”

“No way. You had a gut instinct and you followed it. And you were right,”Dex said.

“Do you think telling the faculty adviser is the right thing for me to do?”I asked.

“I think you have to. If you know the story has been plagiarized, you can’t let
The Ampersand
go ahead and publish it. That would be unethical, too,”Dex said.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,”I said.

“That’s what you have me for. Keeping you on the straight and narrow.”Dex grinned mischievously.

I smiled back at him. “Thanks, Dex.”

Chapter Twenty-six

D
ex was right—knowing what I now knew, I did have an obligation to the magazine to make sure that Nora’s plagiarized story wasn’t published.
It’s something I really should tell Mrs. Gordon in private
, I thought. Mrs. Gordon had told everyone on
The Ampersand
staff to feel free to call her at home if they ever had any questions or comments. So, feeling shaky with nerves at what I was about to do, I called her. Mrs. Gordon answered on the fifth ring.

“Hi, Mrs. Gordon. It’s Miranda,”I said.

“Hello, Miranda! To what do I owe this pleasure?”she asked.

“I have something I need to talk to you about in private. It’s actually pretty important,”I said.

“Can you come over now?”Mrs. Gordon asked.

Ten minutes later, I was in Bumblebee, driving over to the Gordons’house. Mr. and Mrs. Gordon lived in a small, one-story cottage on a quiet, sunny street near school. When I arrived, Mrs. Gordon was outside, planting impatiens in a pot on her front porch. When she saw me pull in, she smiled and waved, and then brushed her dirt-covered hands down the front of her jeans, leaving behind two muddy stripes.

“Hello, Miranda. Come on in. Can I get you a lemonade? I’m having one,”Mrs. Gordon said as she led me into the house.

The Gordons’house was a lot like Mrs. Gordon—bright, cheerful, and endearingly sloppy. A pudgy yellow Labrador met us at the front door. After happily sniffing me and licking my hand, he followed us into the living room and settled in on a plump green dog bed, already covered in shed hair. Each of the living room walls was painted a different color—vivid pink, yellow, turquoise, Popsicle orange. The furniture was all shabby, but looked comfortable. Newspapers and magazines were stacked up on the coffee table, along with a jumble of incongruous items—a battered leather dog leash, a calendar that was two years out of date, what looked like a fishing lure. The clutter made the room seem even more homey.

It’s the perfect place to curl up with a good book
, I thought as I sat on a floral couch, sinking down into the cushions.

Mrs. Gordon returned with two sweating glasses of lemonade, handed me one, and then took a seat in a wing chair opposite me.

“Thank you for seeing me,”I said.

“My door is always open,”Mrs. Gordon said. “And I know you well enough, Miranda, to know that if you say something is important, it definitely needs my immediate attention.”

These words of encouragement made me feel braver about what I was about to do. I took a deep breath and decided to blurt it out.

“I found out that Nora Lee plagiarized the story that she submitted to
The Ampersand
,”I said.

The smile faded from Mrs. Gordon’s face. “That’s a very serious accusation,”she said.

“I know,”I said, nodding. “But it’s true.”

I handed her the story Nora had claimed to write and the original copy of “One Afternoon,”which I’d printed off
The New Yorker
Web site. “‘One Afternoon’was written by Enzo Lowry and was originally published in
The New Yorker
a few years ago. Nora’s story, ‘Lamp Light,’is an almost word-for-word copy of ‘One Afternoon.’”

Mrs. Gordon put on a pair of reading glasses and began looking over the two stories I’d handed her. I sat quietly, not wanting to interrupt her. Finally, Mrs. Gordon put down the papers. As she read, her expression grew even grimmer. She took off her reading glasses and rubbed her temples, as though she had a headache.

“I’m sorry,”I said, feeling guilty that I’d dropped this mess in her lap.

“Don’t be. I’m glad you brought it to my attention. Can you imagine how much worse it would have been if we’d gone ahead and published it?”Mrs. Gordon said.

I nodded. “That’s why I felt I had to tell you.”

“Can I ask how you found out about this? Did Nora confess it to you? I know you and she are friends,”Mrs. Gordon said.

“Actually, we aren’t friends anymore. And, no, she didn’t tell me. To be honest, I made a copy of her story without telling anyone, because I wanted to see whether it was better than the short story I submitted. I was jealous that Nora had beaten me,”I said. Shame cut into me, deep and hot. But I felt that I had to admit to what I’d done.

Mrs. Gordon nodded. “And once you read it, you recognized it?”

“No. I just didn’t think it seemed like something a teenage kid would write,”I explained.

“Yes, I can see that. In fact, now that you point it out, it seems obvious,”said Mrs. Gordon. “The protagonist is a middle-aged man going through a divorce. That’s not a topic most high school students would choose to tackle.”

“Plus, it was really, really good. Scarily good. It was written by someone who obviously put a lot of work into it. And that seemed odd to me, since Nora has never mentioned that she writes,”I said.

“You had a gut feeling that all was not as it seemed,”Mrs. Gordon said.

“Basically,”I said. I hesitated. “What are you going to do?”

“This is a very serious matter. I’ll meet with Headmaster Hughes first thing tomorrow to discuss it,”Mrs. Gordon said.

“What will happen to Nora?”I asked.

Mrs. Gordon shook her head sadly. “That, I can’t say. But, as you know, the school takes violations of the honor code very seriously. And this is one of the more serious honor code violations that I’ve come across in my entire teaching career.”

I was surprised to discover that I was actually feeling sorry for Nora. Geek High was a small school, and news traveled quickly. By this time tomorrow, everyone would know that Nora Lee was a cheat. That wasn’t going to be easy for her to live down.

I wouldn’t tell anyone, I decided. Not even Finn and Charlie. They’d find out—everyone would find out, eventually—but I didn’t want to be the one who started the rumor.

I stood. “Thanks again for seeing me,”I said again.

“Anytime, Miranda,”Mrs. Gordon said.

After dinner, I put Willow’s leash on and led her toward the back deck. My dad was in the kitchen, putting dishes in the dishwasher.

“Are you going for a walk?”Dad asked.

I nodded.

“I’ll come with you,”he offered.

“Okay, sure,”I said, even though I would have preferred to be alone. I needed to clear my head after all the drama of the day. But I didn’t want to hurt my dad’s feelings, so I waited while he loaded the last few dishes and then turned on the dishwasher. When he was finished, we headed out the back sliding-glass doors, onto the deck, and then down the long flight of wooden steps to the beach below.

It was still light out, although the sun was sinking in the sky. The beach was largely deserted, except for a flock of small birds darting to and fro on the wet sand near the water’s edge. The low, rhythmic rumble as the tide rolled in instantly calmed my rattled nerves. For the first time in hours, I was able to breathe deeply.

“You were very quiet at dinner tonight, Miranda,”Dad said.

Dad, Peyton, Hannah, and I had eaten Chinese takeout. I’d been too busy drowning my sorrows in crisply fried egg rolls, kung pao chicken, and vegetable fried rice to say much of anything.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be,”I said.

“Rough day?”Dad asked.

“You can say that,”I said. I told him about my discovery and subsequent meeting with Mrs. Gordon.

Dad whistled, which made Willow’s ears prick up.

“That is tough. But it sounds like you handled it well,”Dad said.

“I guess. Honestly, I sort of wish that I hadn’t found out. That I wasn’t the one who put it all in motion. I guess that makes me a big coward,”I said.

“No, I think it’s understandable why you would feel that way. But you have to remember, the easy option is rarely the best one,”Dad said.

I smiled. “Dad’s words of wisdom?”I asked.

“Hey, you should take what little I’ve got,”Dad said.

Willow tugged on her leash as she bent forward to sniff at a discarded sandwich wrapper.

“Yuck. Litter,”I said, picking it up and stuffing it in my pocket, to be thrown out later. Willow looked up at me, clearly perplexed as to why I’d taken it away from her.