“Hey, wait a sec!” It was Nick, chasing after me with my hoodie, which I’d left in the car.
He caught up to me and handed me the hoodie.
“Tomorrow we get vindicated,” he said.
“Ha, so dramatic,” I said. “But I hope you’re right.”
“Well, either way, it was fun serving time together. Again.” Nick smiled. “And hey—even if she is being a jerk this year, I kind of feel bad for Marcy. I mean, I’m not sure what I’d do if you started trying to cut me loose.”
“Nick-ay! We’re moving out!” Moe yelled.
Nick gave me a little wave, then turned and trotted back down the step.
And okay, Louie, I’ll admit it: I think that time maybe my ears turned a little red.
I was only in homeroom for about thirty seconds the next morning before Ms. Vanwickle showed up and said she would watch the class again because Mr. Smeed was needed in Principal Olin’s office.
“I’m sure some of us can guess what this is about,” Smeed said, looking at Nick and me as he smoothed down his tie. “I happened to glance into the courtyard this morning. Not exactly a stellar cleanup job, was it?”
Nick looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I knew what he was thinking: Smeed didn’t know about the security camera yet. I pictured him walking into Ms. Olin’s office and being confronted by a police officer who was broadcasting video of the real perpetrators on the office wall.
Look what you’ve done! Ms. Olin would shout. We have persecuted innocent children because of your false accusations!
I know that was probably a lot to hope for. But ten minutes later, when Nick and I were called into Ms. Olin’s office, there was an actual police officer sitting there. (I realize this brings the total number of police officers I’ve met during my first year of middle school to three. And it’s only November. I hope your tally is considerably lower, Lou.)
The policeman and Ms. Olin weren’t the only people in the room. Mr. Wyatt and Mr. Solo were there too, and so were Smeed, Elaine, Sarah, and Syd. In fact, there were so many people that they weren’t sitting in Ms. Olin’s actual office; instead, everyone was gathered in the waiting area outside her office. And since this area has big windows that look onto the main hallway, you can imagine how many people were slowing down and staring. It was like we were in a giant fishbowl. With the principal, assistant principal, and a police officer. I think a circus would have drawn less attention.
“Come in,” Mr. Wyatt said, hitching his khaki pants even higher than usual over his Meridian Middle School golf shirt. I walked in as Rob Vinson was slowing down and peering in at the crowd. “You’re going in there, Little Gus?” he asked. “Good luck!” He gave me a light chuck on the shoulder.
“Mr. Zambrano, Ms. Reynolds, there are seats right up here,” Mr. Wyatt said. Great. Since we were the last ones to arrive, we had to sit in the front. Nick and I squeezed past the other kids to get to two folding chairs right by the front desk. There we had a perfect view of the police officer, who was fiddling with some electronic equipment.
“This is Officer Delgado,” Principal Olin said. “He’s going to see if the footage from the camera in the courtyard can help us get to the bottom of the graffiti situation.”
Officer Delgado looked up from the ancient-looking black box on the desk in front of him and gave us all a small nod. The look on his face reminded me of Dad when he’s trying to figure out why the printer is glitching. It was the face of someone who would prefer not to have an audience while he tackles a frustrating problem.
Nick must have felt bad for Officer Delgado too, because he raised his hand and asked, “So…you haven’t watched the video yet?”
“No one has,” Officer Delgado said. “The camera is about twenty years old and it’s seen some weather. I’m working on it.”
“To be honest,” said Principal Olin, “we’d forgotten the camera was there. It was installed long before I was principal here, and I’ve never had to use it. But in any event, we thought we’d ask you all here in case there’s anything you need to tell us while we wait,” Principal Olin said. “Mr. Solo says you have reason to believe this video will exonerate you.” I think she could tell by our faces that we weren’t sure what that meant. “Clear your names. Prove your innocence.”
“It will,” Nick said. “But if you can’t get the video to work, does that mean we’re still punished?”
She didn’t have a chance to answer. “You don’t have to watch the video,” a shaky voice from the back of the room said. “I can tell you who did it.”
All the bodies in the room turned at once, the way the seagulls at Longwood Beach all pivot in our direction whenever one of us opens a bag of pretzels. But this distraction was way more interesting than a bag of pretzels. This was Marcy, standing in the doorway and looking at the floor as she fiddled with an earring. Not a silver hoop, I noticed, but a small gold butterfly. I wondered why no silver today.
“Come in, Marcy,” Principal Olin said. Marcy ventured a few small steps forward, but with the room as packed as it was, it was hard for her to get all the way to the front.
“What is it, Miss Shea?” Mr. Wyatt boomed across the room. “You have something to tell us?”
Marcy looked up at him, and I could see her face was red and her eyes were shiny. She was scared. Principal Olin must have noticed too, because she said, “Actually, Mr. Wyatt, perhaps we should speak with Marcy in private.”
She opened her office door and waved Marcy, Mr. Wyatt, and Officer Delgado in.
“I knew it!” Syd whisper-hissed as soon as the door was closed.
“Knew what?” Sarah whispered back.
“It was those girls! Those silver girls or whatever you call them. They would totally do something like this. They’re just mean.”
He was right, of course. He was right about all of it. But I knew Sarah was thinking the same thing I was thinking: that it was too much to hope Marcy was swooping in with a confession. That she would actually throw herself and her Silver Sisters on the mercy of the principals and the police in order to save us.
As we’d soon find out, we were on target with one thing. Marcy wasn’t turning in the names of her friends. She was only turning in herself.
* * *
“You’re kidding,” Mom said when I called from the office phone to tell her I didn’t have to repeat detention that day after all.
“Nope. After Marcy left the office, Ms. Olin came out and apologized to us—me, Sarah, Nick, Elaine, and Syd. She said they had new information that cleared our names, and that we didn’t have to finish the cleanup.”
“And the new information was from Marcy?”
“Well, Ms. Olin didn’t say that, but she didn’t have to. This happened right after Marcy went into her office.”
“So Marcy did the graffiti?”
“Yeah, she must have. I’m sure it was her and Addison and Heidi. Probably Amber too.”
“Wasn’t Heidi the one who refused to do the Binaca bet because she wouldn’t gamble?” Mom asked.
“Yeah, but Addison wasn’t there when that happened,” I explained. “She’ll do anything Addison says.”
“I see,” Mom said. “Well, this is who you suspected all along, isn’t it?” Mom asked.
“Pretty much.”
“Wow. Well, I’m glad you’ve been cleared, but I’m sorry to hear that about Marcy.”
“Yeah.”
“What did Mr. Smeed say?”
“Not much. He doesn’t like being wrong.”
“Yeah, I suspect he doesn’t. Oh, hey”—Mom remembered something—“now that you don’t have detention after school today, can you go over to Ama’s? Dr. Chen texted me and said she could use the help.”
“Okay, sure.”
“How close are you to your contact-lens goal?” Mom asked. “I tho
ught I’d see if Dr. Sherman could see you in the next couple of weeks. Maybe Dad and I can even foot part of the bill for you.”
I looked up and saw Syd making a circling Get on with it motion with his hand; he was waiting to call his parents.
“Sure, Mom, but I have to get going now. I’m on the office phone.”
“Okay, hon. Dr. Chen will text you when she’s on her way to pick you up.”
As I handed the phone receiver to Syd, I did some calculations in my head. Mom and Dad wouldn’t even have to contribute that much to round out the amount I needed for contacts. I couldn’t wait to tell Sarah.
There was one more thing I needed to do before I left the office. I’d been thinking about what Keira had said about the Gooser, and about how he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with hurting so many people. I took a blank piece of paper from the front desk and wrote a quick note:
Dear Principal Olin,
I think you should know that Ronald Gosley pinches girls’ bottoms in school. And out of school too. A lot. It hurts. Someone should do something about it. Thanks.
I slid the note into Principal Olin’s office mailbox. I didn’t sign it. I guess I was afraid of what might happen if he found out I was the one who reported him. But at least I’d done something. Keira was right. Someone had to.
I had to wait until lunch to tell Sarah the good news about my contact-lens fund. She had already been shooed out of the office by the school secretary, Ms. Wester, and now Ms. Wester was shooing me to first period.
Sarah was waiting in the hall by the courtyard at lunchtime. “Do you want to eat there today?” she asked. “You know, with the graffiti still on the wall?”
I looked through the doorway at the pitiful headless characters. I wasn’t sure. Would it be like we were sitting there with a mark on us for everyone to see? Like a KICK ME sign on our backs, only way bigger?
“Why are you guys just standing here?” Nick gave my ponytail a little tug as he zipped past into the courtyard.
“Come on, I’m starving.” Another zip from Syd, joining Nick by the crab apple tree.
“Okay…,” Sarah said. “We just aren’t sure about eating out here with…that.”
“What, the ‘fantastic mural’?” Nick called from the tree. “Come on, who cares about that anymore?”
“Yeah,” Syd said. “Besides, it’ll be gone tomorrow after Marcy does her detention this afternoon.” He gave a little cackle.
“Come on,” I said to Sarah. As usual, the thought of eating in the courtyard—even with the graffiti on the wall—was better than facing Addison and Heidi and their crowd in the cafeteria.
“Where’s Elaine?” Sarah asked as we stepped through the courtyard door.
“I’m here.” Elaine popped up behind us, a little pink-faced and out of breath. I was glad she’d heard Sarah asking where she was. I think she needed reassurance that we actually did want to hang out with her.
“Oh, hey,” Sarah said. “Why are you all out of breath?”
“I just ran here from where I was hiding under the stairwell.”
“Why were you hiding under the stairwell?” I was a little nervous to hear her answer. Elaine could be a question mark sometimes.
“Well, I was kind of eavesdropping. On Marcy and Addison. They were talking about the graffiti.”
This got the boys’ attention. “What were they saying?” Nick asked.
“Marcy was saying something about how it wasn’t right that we were being punished, and Addison said something like ‘Who cares? It’s not like those losers have anything better to do.’
“Then Marcy said, ‘You know what I mean, Addison.’ And you know how Addison is usually all cool, like she doesn’t care about anything? She wasn’t that way just now. She was like, ‘You better not say another word to anyone about this, Marcy.’
“Then Marcy said, ‘I told you, Addison; I didn’t say anything about you guys. I’m the one doing detention. You’re safe.’ ”
“Then what?” I asked.
“Then nothing. I heard one of them start to walk down the stairs, and that’s when I ran here.”
“Wow. So what does it mean?” Syd asked.
“It means Addison’s not getting in trouble even though she was part of it,” I said. “Knowing her, it was probably all her idea. But Marcy wouldn’t tell on her.”
“Too scared of her, probably,” Syd said.
“Or just didn’t want to rat out her friend,” said Elaine.
“Ugh, but Addison already is such a rat herself.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “That news has been out for a while.”
* * *
Language arts felt different that day. Addison and Heidi walked in without Marcy. She arrived alone a few minutes later, and they didn’t even say hi to her. When she went to her seat, they twisted toward each other like snakes. As they whispered and shot occasional glances at Marcy, she faced away from them, looking out the window as she fiddled with one of her butterfly earrings again. They were still wearing their silver hoops.
If Ms. Barakat noticed anything was off, she didn’t show it. At least not right away.
“Okay, class,” she said, firing up her laptop. “Today a new poem. ‘Mariposa’ by Edna St. Vincent Millay. Mariposa is a Spanish word. Who knows what it means?”
She looked around the room, and her eyes landed on Marcy. “Ooh, a clue!” she said. “Someone has little mariposas on her ears!”
Marcy put her hands up to her earrings again. “Me?” she said. “Oh…b-butterflies?” From the way she stumbled on the word, I could tell she wasn’t sure she had the right answer. And Addison and Heidi thought this was uproariously funny.
It was hard to tell what happened first, but in the space of a few seconds, Addison mimicked “b-butterflies,” Heidi started choking because she couldn’t hold back her cackling, and Marcy’s hand shot into the air.
“Ms. Barakat,” she said in a strangled voice without waiting to be called on, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Of course, Marcy, go ahead.” Ms. Barakat looked at Addison and Heidi as Marcy walked out. She took a deep breath as she clicked on her laptop to put the poem on the Smart Board. “Addison, can you read the first stanza, please?”
As Addison took a deep breath to clear her giggles before she read, Ms. Barakat held up her right hand as though she’d just had another thought. “Also, can you and Heidi please stay after class for a few minutes?”
Addison gave a little nod and started reading. Heidi turned about ten different shades of red.
* * *
Marcy still wasn’t back fifteen minutes later, and Ms. Barakat sent me to the bathroom to check on her. I wasn’t sure I was the best choice for that job, given all that was going on with the graffiti that week, but it didn’t seem like a great time to argue with Ms. Barakat.
When I walked into the bathroom, only one stall was occupied. I peeked under the door and saw Marcy’s black ankle boots. I cleared my throat a little.
“Marcy?”
No answer.
“Hey, Marcy, I know you’re here. Ms. Barakat wanted me to check and make sure you’re okay. It’s Augusta.”
“I know it’s you, Augusta.”
“Oh, okay. Well, um…are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m great.”
“Okay…I’ll let her know.”
I couldn’t just leave, though. Of course I knew she wasn’t really great. But I also didn’t know what to say next. Part of me felt like I should thank her for admitting to the graffiti and getting us off the hook, but why would I do that? Why would I thank her if she was the one who painted those stupid pictures in the first place? Why did she even do it? That’s what I wanted to know first.
“Hey…Marcy…about the graffiti…”
“I didn’t do it.”
That wasn’t what I’d expected to hear.
“What do you mean, you didn’t do it? Everyone knows you did it. You told Ms. Olin you did it.”
“I didn’t do it. I know you didn’t do it. And neither did I. And that’s all I’ll say.”
“Wait…why are you doing detention if you didn’t do it?” The stall door opened and Marcy stepped out. She was blowing her nose on a piece of toilet paper and her eyes were red; I could tell she’d been crying. She looked down as she threw the toilet paper away and washed her hands.
“I’m doing detention because I know who did do the graffiti,” she said. “And I know it wasn’t you guys. And it’s not right for you to take the fall.”
“Yeah, but it’s not right for you to take the fall either if you didn’t do it!” I said. “I know it was Addison and Heidi and Amber. Everyone knows. You’re doing this so they won’t get in trouble, aren’t you?”
“I said I’m doing it so that you guys wouldn’t have to,” Marcy said. “I’m trying to do something nice for you, if you’ll let me. Geez, Augusta, does anyone ever know where they stand with you?”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but it didn’t matter. Marcy dried her hands, chucked the paper towel in the garbage, and walked out on her own. I wondered how long I could wait in the bathroom before Ms. Barakat sent someone to check on me.
“Ugh, Addison and Heidi are the worst,” Sarah said in math after I told her about my bathroom conversation with Marcy. “Amber too. Why is Marcy even friends with them?”
“That’s the thing…I don’t know if she is anymore. They weren’t talking to her in language arts. And she’s not even wearing the silver hoops today. She said she did this for us, because it wasn’t right that we were being punished for something we didn’t do.”
“Wow, seriously?”
“Yeah.” I debated whether to tell Sarah the next part. “She said something else weird…that I wasn’t letting her do a nice thing, and that people never know where they stand with me. What does that even mean?”
The 47 People You'll Meet in Middle School Page 16