The doorbell rang. I closed the yearbook and went to answer it. “Taylor? What are you doing here?”
He held up a DVD. “You told me to go to wrestling practice and then watch The Godfather, right? I did the first after school today. I was wondering if you wanted to join me for the second.”
****
Chapter Four
“Great news, Milo. I got permission to do a pre-election special. A simple broadsheet featuring each candidate’s platform and interview on either side. We’re generating interest in a school event, demonstrating our flexibility and initiative and, most importantly, showing demand for a student-led newspaper.”
Candice never sounded this happy. I squinted at my phone. “But?”
“I need your help printing. Can you get to school before first period?”
“I didn’t think there was anything before first period.”
“Welcome to my life. The custodian leaves the side entrance open for us. I’ll be in the computer lab. Got that?”
“Candice, you know this is inhumane, right? The Geneva Conventions cover sleep deprivation— Candice? Candice!”
And that is how I wound up at Bernhardt before sunrise on Wednesday morning. I squinted as I walked through the school. The halls looked dim even at midday. This early in the morning, the fluorescent light seemed even more inadequate, giving the old stone walls the insubstantial appearance of a stage backdrop.
I smirked as I passed the election posters. If the juniors weren’t overenthusiastic about the elections at first; they’d got behind them in a big way now. Posters were everywhere. Taylor’s were a mishmash of different styles. He’d refused to let his photo be taken, so his campaign posters were mostly text based, urging people to “Vote Taylor!”
Fern had, as usual, pulled hers out of the bag. A photo of herself holding the trophy she’d won for most valuable player on the hockey team, and her slogan, “Best for Bernhardt; Best for You.” Simple but effective. The uniform appearance of her posters contrasted effectively against the hodgepodge efforts of Taylor’s supporters. And Fern had a secret weapon. I paused to admire her knowledge of her target audience. Who at Bernhardt could resist a semicolon?
“What the—?”
I stared at the poster, shocked. Someone had scrawled over the poster in sharpie “Biggest Bitch.” “But that’s vandalism!” Who would do such a thing? And to Fern? She would be so upset when she saw it!
If she saw it. I tugged the poster down, ripping it in half and then in half again. It was only then I realized I should have kept it intact to show a teacher. Would there be anyone in the teachers’ break room at this hour? Clutching the ripped pieces, I turned—
And came face to face with Declan. “What are you doing?”
“Holy crap!” I collided with the wall. “Declan, where did you come from?”
Declan was shorter than me and in no way intimidating, but as he folded his arms, I wished I could take another step back. “Answer the question.”
“It’s not what it looks like. The poster— someone wrote on it.”
Declan’s frown grew. “Show me.” As I held up the pieces, his mouth tightened. “And you just found it like this?”
“No. It was on the wall. I took it down and tore it up. I didn’t think; I was just shocked anyone would do this!” I noticed Declan’s hand clenched a tightly rolled up paper. “Wait. You found one too? What’s going on?”
“Someone’s playing malicious tricks on Fern.” Declan showed me he held several posters. “I had a feeling something like this might happen, so I came to school early today to check. Good thing, too. Whoever this is, I think they got every single one of her posters.”
“That’s horrible!”
“I’ve only done half the school. You’ve got to come with me so we can get the rest before anyone sees them. I’ll take this side of the hall, and you do the other.”
“Right.” I hurried after him, toward the science wings.
Declan worked quickly, his jaw set as he methodically took down every offending poster. I glanced over my shoulder at him as he worked, trying to remember if I’d ever seen him so serious. “Not a word about this in your paper, Milo, or to anyone, especially Fern.”
Declan was that worried about her? Maybe I’d misjudged the Spirit Squad. This much concern for a friend was above and beyond the school’s dictums. “Wait. Yesterday, when you told me you’d recorded the interview— you thought it was me bullying Fern!”
“You were the most likely candidate,” Declan said unapologetically. “No one in the school has a bigger reason to have a grudge against the Spirit Squad than you, what with, well… Boomer.”
“Tons of people have reason to dislike the Spirit Squad,” I reminded him. “And yeah, I’m mad about Boomer, but if it was me, don’t you think I’d go after Boomer?”
Declan didn’t say anything.
I stopped. “Is Boomer getting harassed?”
“Look,” Declan said, grabbing my arm. “I don’t know, so don’t get any stupid ideas. This has been going on awhile, and I noticed Boomer’s been acting odd, so I wondered… But this is none of your business. Or the paper’s business, Milo. You got that?”
Slowly, I nodded. “Got it.” It stung, but Declan had reason not to trust me. “So what will you do? Tell the teachers?”
“With how useless they are? No, I’m taking care of this my way. So if you don’t mind, I have a lot of posters to replace.” Declan turned, walking away.
I bit my lip. Declan was a jerk. The way he’d forced me and Candice out of the newspaper room was proof of that! But if he’d thought that it was me bullying Fern… “Hey, Declan? Do you have a good copy of Fern’s poster on you now?”
“Why do you ask?”
I nodded toward the computer rooms. “Because the newspaper club has a meeting now, and we have free access to the copiers for our special edition.”
****
Forget parachuting, skinny-dipping or Black Friday sales. Nothing is more adrenaline inducing than fighting a print deadline down to the very last second.
I ran down the hall at full tilt toward the doors. I could see students already making their way up the steps toward them. Hastily, I placed my prints in the newspaper stand. Declan had come back after putting up his posters to help me and Candice, and the three of us had each raced to a different entrance. As I straightened the papers, I heard the bells chime and the doors thrown open.
“Out of the way, Freako.” I was roughly shouldered aside.
I drew back against the wall for safety, rubbing my arm. I did not recognize the senior, but from his use of that nickname, he had to be a member of the football team—
I paused. If he was Logan’s friend, why had he taken a copy of the paper?
“There it is!”
I flattened myself back against the wall as the stand was swarmed by girls. The paper was circulated, the girls turning quickly to the part that most interested them. “Nothing about a girlfriend— Milo! Is it true what it says about Alexis?”
Wow. Suddenly the wall had gotten crowded. “Personal space!”
“You wouldn’t make that up, right?”
“Of course, he wouldn’t! He’s on the newspaper! That’s why no one likes him.” Madison tucked her hair behind her ear carelessly. “‘When questioned about his romantic life, Taylor only had this to say— that he respects and admires Alexis’s independent spirit too much to want to tie her down to the role of ‘girlfriend.’ He is planning to devote himself to his studies, and if successful, the role of class president.’ You questioned him, Milo?”
Even pressed up against the wall and with no space to breathe, I had enough professional pride to be injured. “That’s a direct quote.”
Madison smirked, tucking her copy of the paper into her bag. “Let’s go.”
As the girls walked down the hall, I heard a chorus of “All the Single Ladies” break out.
As the crowd around the newspaper stand thinned, I co
uld see a familiar figure on the steps. “Taylor!” I grabbed my bag and turned back to the door only to bump into Emily.
“Geez, I’m so sorry—” I paused.
Emily was usually serious, but I’d never seen her this intently focused, even before an exam. She took a deep breath, her hands toying with the rolled up copy of the newspaper she held. As I watched, she took a second deep breath and walked out the door, heading directly toward Taylor.
Taylor smiled as he saw her, slowing his steps as she approached. I couldn’t hear what they said, but I didn’t need to. Emily looked down, nervous as she played with a strand of hair. Taylor was his usual charming self. He nodded and smiled, the action reflecting in his eyes.
With difficulty, I forced myself to step away from the door and walk toward my first period class. Not everything that Taylor did was newspaper business.
****
Taylor was late to AP English. He was nearly late to Drawing.
The nervous energy that had sustained me all morning had evaporated. I was lying on the desk, using my sketchbook as a pillow, when I heard a scrape as the chair next to me was taken.
“Are you hoping that Ms. Cox will be so happy you’re not talking that she lets you sleep through drawing?”
I opened my eyes. Not many people look good from below, but Taylor was one of those lucky few. “I think it’s worth a try.” I paused. My plan would only work if I didn’t talk.
…but there was a reason I was on the newspaper. “That’s your second near miss this morning.”
“What?” Taylor was unpacking his bag.
I sat up. “You were almost late. Not all teachers are as relaxed as Mr. Perry.”
“I know. I got told off by the Chemistry teacher. This was actually my fourth near miss.”
“What’s going on? It’s not the like the future class president to be late.”
“That’s exactly what the Chemistry teacher said.” Taylor winced. “I’ve been rushed off my feet since I got to school.” He glanced at me. “You didn’t happen to write that I wanted a study partner did you?”
I shook my head. “No. Why?”
“I’ve had at least twelve girls and one guy offer to tutor me this morning alone,” Taylor said, positioning his sketchbook on his lap. “I figured it was something to do with you and your newspaper.”
“Not everything that happens to you is my fault.”
“No,” Taylor agreed. “Just most of it.”
I paused. How was I supposed to argue that with Taylor smirking at me? “A lot of presidential candidates would be grateful to have such enthusiastic and unbiased press coverage.”
“I’m sure. Though on that note, I can’t give you a campaign update tonight, Milo. I’ve got plans.”
I shouldn’t have bothered sitting up. “Chemistry with Emily, right?”
“No. It’s— a thing. For my parents.”
“A thing?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain. Take it from me that it will be long, boring and not as much fun as watching Casablanca with you.”
“Very little is as fun as watching Casablanca with me.” I paused a moment to study Taylor. “How has someone who has the world’s best films right there in his living room never got around to watching any of them?”
“When you—” Taylor stopped himself. He shrugged, turning his attention back to his art project. “I guess it’s just not my thing.”
I watched him work on his sketch, frowning. That wasn’t what he’d been about to say. But what on earth was so bad about watching movies?
****
Lunch was an amazing performance. Taylor collected his tray and walked across the cafeteria, apparently blind to all of the girls trying to get his attention, until he reached Alexis. “Is this seat taken?”
Alexis only needed a moment to gain composure. “It’s a free country.”
Taylor sat down, leaning slightly toward her. A moment later, Alexis laughed. The rest of the table shared their mood of hilarity. All eyes were on them for the remainder of lunch.
“Seriously. He has to be magic. He doesn’t just turn Alexis down in a way that allows her to save social face, but he sits with her at lunch so everyone can see they’re totally cool.” I shook my head. “Who does that?”
Lily rolled her eyes. “God, Milo. You like him so much; why don’t you ask him on a study date?”
I removed my gaze from the Feministas to give Lily my best hurt look. “My interest in Taylor is purely professional. I’m a journalist; he’s a story.”
Lily smiled sweetly at me. “And what happens when he’s no longer your story?”
“Wow. Just because you hate everything isn’t any reason to bring me down.”
“On the contrary, what better reason is there?” Lily replaced her iPod buds with a smirk, effectively ending the conversation.
It was an odd day. Lily usually ignored me, preferring to blot out lunch entirely with the help of her iPod and dog-eared copy of Interview with a Vampire, but here she was, with questions about the accuracy of the election special. Another tribute to Taylor’s magical prowess? Turning back to look across the cafeteria at Taylor’s table, my gaze fell upon the Spirit Squad.
Taylor’s magic was not felt at that table. Logan glared at the back of Taylor’s head, speaking out of the side of his mouth to his friends. They laughed loudly, but I noticed Boomer frown.
Declan ignored them completely, talking energetically to Victoria and Maria, who listened with their usual studied disinterest. Fern nodded occasionally, attention clearly elsewhere. Probably planning her campaign speech for tomorrow. I had to hand it to her. There was no way I would look as Fern did if I had to make a speech in front of the entire junior class the next day. Fern said good-bye to her friends and was immediately met by a male student offering to return her tray for her. I smiled. Taylor wasn’t the only one with magic.
No helpful person of any gender offered to take my tray, but I was so practiced at avoiding people that I stepped over the jock’s foot as he tried to trip me without breaking stride. I knew my luck wouldn’t hold, however. Talking to Taylor in drawing had given me a burst of energy, but that had faded. The cafeteria food needed time to charge my spent batteries. If I could just find someplace quiet where I could steal a nap…
I stopped in front of the classroom we’d used for the interview yesterday. It was empty, but would it be open? Mr. Nesbitt was dangerously close to retirement and had gone an entire semester calling us by the names of the students he’d taught last year. If anyone would forget to lock a door, it was him.
Mr. Nesbitt’s memory did not fail me. The door swung open, and I stepped into the empty classroom—
“Milo?”
“Fern! I didn’t know anyone was in here!” I stopped still.
Fern stared back at me. Her eyes were red and there was a smudgy trail down her cheeks. Her mouth opened, but she made no sound.
A loud clatter called my attention to the students in the hall. I shut the door behind me. After a moment, I locked it.
Fern breathed out. “Thank you. I mean, I know I must look terrible, right now—”
“Not at all,” I lied. “Fern, what happened?”
“Nothing happened!”
“Was it the posters?”
Fern’s face fell. “How did you know?”
Too late. I remembered Declan’s instruction to say silent. “I saw one when I got to school. Declan and I went around taking them down and replacing them, but we must have missed one.”
“No.” Fern pressed her lips together and shook her head. “It was pushed through my locker. I only found it now.” She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “You and Declan? He didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“He didn’t want you to know. I guess he didn’t want you distracted on the final day of your campaign.”
“That is so like Declan, Milo, you don’t even know.” Fern took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Before my eyes, she was transf
orming back into Super-Fern. Only the red-rims of her eyes and smudged mascara indicated there was anything amiss. “And you helped him? That’s awfully sweet of you, Milo.”
“Of course. Did you know that in Australia, Milo is a chocolate-flavored drink? So I have to be sweet. It’s in the fine print.”
“What, on your birth certificate?” Fern managed a convincing smile. “I’d better look up mine. Don’t want to find out that I’m contractually obligated to live in a forest.”
“It could be worse,” I told her. “You could wind up as a store display in one of those awful home ware stores in White Plains.”
“Relegating me to a mall? Wow, Milo!”
I smiled, relieved. Fern sounded much more like herself. “Seriously though, are you okay?”
Fern nodded. “It’s all right. Whenever something horrible like this happens, something nice always happens to make it right. Knowing that you and Declan worked really hard to take care of me, that’s really special.”
How was it possible that someone could be this together? “Where did you learn to be mature? Seriously. I want the ISBN.”
Fern laughed again. “It’s not maturity. I sort of suspected something like this would happen. I know I can’t make everyone happy and that trying to only wears me out, so I have to focus on what’s important to me— and what’s important is that I have friends like you, Declan, Maria and Victoria behind me. That’s way more important than someone’s jealousy.”
I nodded, trying to squish down my envy. Friends who made the haters seem negligible?
But Fern wasn’t finished. “That’s what I really admire about you, Milo. That you’re so strong and independent, and you do your own thing no matter what people say or think.”
“I do?”
“Standing up to Coach Burns took a lot of guts.”
“And got your boyfriend kicked out of school.”
“It’s no one’s fault but Carson’s that he got kicked off the team. Trust me. You did the right thing.” Fern sighed, standing up. “I wish I had your courage. If I didn’t care so much about making people happy, I might have been able to make him listen to me.” Fern bit her lip as the noise in the hall indicated that people were leaving the cafeteria. “I look a mess, don’t I?”
“A hot mess?”
“I’m not sure that helps.” Fern took out a small purse from her bag and spread the contents out on the table.
The Biggest Scoop Page 6