by Robin Caroll
Sam scooted to the edge of the chair. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Trees, I really am, but I can’t tell you.”
“You can’t tell me who received this alleged email or who can verify the trace back to one of the computers here on my campus?”
Sam shook her head. “I can’t reveal my sources, Mrs. Trees. I’m trying to be a responsible reporter. The information is factual. I’ve confirmed my allegations. You can take my word for it.”
“Take your word?” Mrs. Trees shook her head. “No, Samantha, I don’t think I can do that. I’m afraid I must insist you tell me who received the email and who traced its origins.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you either.”
“Can’t or won’t?” No softness lined even a single wrinkle in the principal’s face.
“I can’t reveal my sources, Mrs. Trees. No one would ever talk to me again if I did. It’s critical to my career for people to know that if I say I won’t use their name, then I won’t.”
“Your career?” Mrs. Trees flashed Sam a humorless smile. “At this point, Samantha, I would think you’d be more worried about not getting suspended than a career at least half a decade in the future.”
Suspended? Sam’s mouth went totally dry.
“At least show us the email, Sam,” Ms. Pape all but begged. “We can have someone run a trace as your source did. It’s a way for us to verify the proof.”
Sam appreciated the paper’s teacher-sponsor’s trying to help. “I can’t. The person was adamant that they not be revealed.”
Mrs. Trees pulled out a piece of paper and began writing. “If you won’t tell us, you’ve given me no other choice.”
Sam stared at the paper, heat flooding her face and pulse ringing in her ears. “You’re suspending me?”
Mrs. Trees signed the form, pulled off the top copy, and passed it across the desk to Sam. “Beginning tomorrow.”
Air wouldn’t enter her lungs. Sam couldn’t focus on the writing. “For how long?”
“That depends on you.”
“What?”
“You can return as soon as you like. As soon as you’re ready to tell us the truth.”
Sam found her voice and her backbone. She jumped to her feet. “You can’t do this, Mrs. Trees.”
“I can. The student handbook that you signed at the beginning of the year states that even if you don’t agree with the rules of this school and this school district, you must adhere to them.” Mrs. Trees stood as well. “It is in the interest of student safety that you reveal this information. To not do so puts other students at risk.”
Sam opened her mouth to argue, then decided not to. She was, after all, just a kid.
“You may go back to class.” Mrs. Trees sat back down. “For today.”
Ms. Pape stayed put.
Sam reached for the door knob.
“And Sam?”
She glanced back to Mrs. Trees. “Yes, ma’am?”
“If you decide to reconsider your decision during the course of the school day today, come see me. I’d hate for this suspension to cause you to lose your spot on the cheer squad.” She glanced at Ms. Pape. “Or your place on the school paper.”
This could not be happening!
“Can she do that?” Makayla asked in third period. “Isn’t it like coercion or something, which is illegal?”
Sam rubbed the back of her neck. She was pretty sure there were measures in place to protect all journalists, even those in middle school, against pressure to force them to reveal their sources. She’d certainly research that tonight. “She sure acts like she can do it.”
“She’s just trying to scare you, right?” Makayla’s deep brown eyes were wide. “She’s just bluffing, hoping you’ll come forward by the end of the day.”
“I don’t know. I hope she isn’t.”
“What are you going to do?”
Sam grinned. “Don’t worry, Mac. I’m not going to drag you into this mess.”
“Thanks. I mean, I don’t want you to get in trouble . . .”
“It’s not your fault, Mac. You practically begged me to tell Mrs. Trees yesterday. Even on the phone last night, you told me to tell her. I just wanted to write the scoop.” Which may not only have cost her the editor position next year, but also cost her place on the cheer squad. She blinked back the tears starting to burn her eyes. “I should have listened.”
Makayla nodded. “My mother will have a hissy fit if she finds out. She’s already acting all crazy over my grades and that whole homeschooling spell she went through last month. But I don’t want to make you take the fall for all of this. I especially don’t want you to get suspended.”
Sam swallowed. Her father was going to kill her. Maybe Mom would know if what Mrs. Trees was doing was legal.
Just another reason Mom shouldn’t leave. Sam needed her here. Needed her help. Her advice. Her support. Without it, there was the very good chance Dad was going to go ape crazy. He’d ground her at the very least. As a cop, he was a stickler for following rules.
Makayla grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed. “I have karate after school, but call me when you can and let me know what’s going on.”
“If I’m not grounded.” She had to shake this off. Sam smiled at Makayla and let out a long breath. “But I did find out something else.”
“What?”
“Billy Costiff, Melanie Olson, Felicia Adams, and Aubrey all take EAST, so all of them would have logins to the computers.”
Makayla glanced at the keyboarding teacher, Mrs. Forge. Their teacher was at least fifty years old. Her short, gray hair looked like she’d been electrocuted because it stuck out all over her head. And those glasses she wore? They made her eyes look bigger than a big, ole bullfrog’s.
“Sam, how do you know that?” Makayla asked.
She grinned. “It’s probably best I don’t tell you. That way, you can honestly say you have no idea. Just in case you’re ever asked or anything.”
Makayla shook her head. “Do you really think Aubrey is a suspect?”
“With the way she’s been treating Nikki, I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
“Jealousy is a very strong emotion.”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, Mac. If you were nominated and I wasn’t, I’d be so excited and happy for you.”
“But being on homecoming court isn’t important to you. It is to Aubrey.”
Sam just couldn’t wrap her mind around how being popular was so important. Yet, Makayla was right that being popular was very important to Aubrey. “Well, everybody’s a suspect right now.”
And would be until Sam could check out their alibis. She’d start on that tonight. Unless her dad killed her first.
CHAPTER TWELVE
God, I got myself into this mess, but please, please, please help me.
Sam had held out all through the ride home from school with Mom, making dinner with her, and having Dad help with some math homework. Now, as the three of them sat silently around the table eating, Sam knew she couldn’t put it off any longer.
“Mom, Dad . . .” The tension was still so thick.
Both of them looked up from their plates.
No easy way to say it. Might as well just get it out there, then try to soften the blow with an explanation. “I, um, got suspended today.” She set the suspension form on the table between them. “It starts tomorrow.”
“What?” Dad’s face went red as Mom snatched up the form.
“Suspension for violation of rule 102, defiant behavior,” Mom read Mrs. Trees’ notes. “And for failure to report knowledge of violation of rule 314, unauthorized accessing or attempting to access computer files, and failure to report knowledge of violation of rule 306, bullying.” Mom laid down the paper. “What’s going on?”
Dad grabbed the form before she could say anything. “It doesn’t say how many days you’re suspended.”
“Let me explain.” And as carefully as she could, she told them everything. When she had finished, she gulp
ed down the rest of her tea.
“She can’t do that!” Mom warped into full Freedom-of-the-Press-defender mode. “Unless this principal utilizes legal channels, she lacks the authority to force any student journalist to reveal confidential information.”
“Your principal said you were suspended until you told her who was being bullied and who traced the email origin back to the school’s computers?” Dad asked.
“This is classic violation of so many rights that I don’t even know where to begin.” Mom stood and paced, gripping her constant-companion-cell-phone and reading from it. “Without a court-issued subpoena ordering disclosure, you, Sam, are protected by the First Amendment or Arkansas state law from having to disclose your sources, and you are under no obligation to respond to demands.” Even wearing yoga pants and socks, Mom looked ready to do battle. “And for her to mention the possibility of losing your place on cheer squad because of this suspension . . . that’s nothing more than intimidation.”
“Let’s back up a minute,” Dad said. “Is this person who got the email the same person you talked to me about being bullied?”
Sam nodded.
“So they’ve gotten notes at their home, texts, something put in their locker, and now an email?”
Again she nodded.
“Sam, I told you bullies don’t stop. This proves my point. This bully is getting more aggressive. You need to tell me who this person is so I can talk with her parents and intervene before it’s too late.”
Mom spun and stared at Dad with wide, wide eyes. “What? You’re just as bad as the principal, Charles. She isn’t at liberty to tell you who it is. The person has told Sam to keep her name out of it. Sam has to respect her wishes.”
Dad stood, carrying his plate to the sink, then leaned against the counter and stared at his wife. “Joy, this isn’t just about protecting a source, this is about protecting a kid. You’ve read enough to know that when bullies become more and more aggressive, as this one clearly is, violence can easily follow. I’m trying to keep a kid safe.”
Mom shook her head as Sam carried her and Mom’s plates to the sink. “But it is about protecting a source. This girl specifically told Sam to keep her name out of it. If Sam reveals her identity, she’s betrayed the girl’s trust. The girl will be furious, and Sam’s reputation as being trustworthy will be shot.”
Way to go, Mom!
“Which is more important: keeping her safe, or keeping her identity as secret?” Dad pushed off the counter and raised his voice. “The two are exclusive of each other. You can’t have both. So it comes down to is it more important for this girl to be safe but upset, or for Sam to keep her secret, even if it means harm comes to the girl?”
Tears burned Sam’s eyes. Both Mom and Dad had valid points, but what was worse was that they were arguing. Over her. Sam couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry. Please stop fighting.”
Mom and Dad went silent, turning to stare at her.
“I’m sorry I got suspended. I’m sorry I can’t tell who she is, but I’ll try to get her to let me tell you at least, Dad. Her parents know and think the bully will move on to someone else soon. I’m sorry I can’t tell who traced the IP address.” Sam’s voice cracked. “Just please, please quit arguing.”
“Oh, my sweet girl, I’m sorry.” Mom crossed the room and pulled Sam into a hug. “We aren’t mad at you. We’re not fighting. We’re just debating.”
Sam pulled away, swiping at the tears that had escaped. “No, Mom, y’all aren’t debating. You two are arguing. Y’all have been arguing ever since you got home. I feel like I’m supposed to pick sides, but I can’t. I love you both.”
Dad turned Sam into his own hug. “Sweetheart, we love you, too. I’m sorry if you feel like you have to pick sides. Neither of us would ever put you in such a position. Not on purpose. I’m sorry. Just know that your mother and I are praying about this issue. Together.”
“I didn’t even realize we’d put so much pressure on you,” Mom said. “I’m sorry, my sweet girl.”
“It’s not just this.” Sam wiped her eyes. Why couldn’t she stop crying? “I don’t want you to go for six months, Mom, but I don’t want you to stay because me or Dad guilt you into it because then, later on, you’d resent us for holding you back from this great opportunity. I want you to stay, but I want you to go, too.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “But I’m really glad you’re praying about it together. That makes me feel a lot better.”
Sam took another step back. “And on this, I’m sorry Mrs. Trees suspended me. I don’t think she should be able to, but I don’t know since she cited rules and stuff. Either way, I can’t tell anyone who it is because I promised I wouldn’t.” She met Dad’s stare. “You’ve always told me that a person is only as good as their word. I can’t break that. At least, not yet. I don’t think she’s in danger, and neither does she or her parents.”
“Sam, bullies can escalate their methods so quickly — ” Dad started.
“I understand what you’re saying, Dad, which is why I’m trying to help her figure out who the bully is.”
Dad shook his head. “Which might very well put you in the bully’s crosshairs, too, Sam. Did you stop to consider that?”
No, she hadn’t. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, but if it were, at least then I would have evidence I could give you and Mrs. Trees.”
Dad went back to the suspension form and scanned it. “This part: for failure to report knowledge of violation of rule 314, unauthorized accessing or attempting to access computer files — you can ask whoever did the tracing to let you give the principal that information, though.”
Sam shook her head. No matter what, she would not pull Makayla into this. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Mom’s gaze locked with Sam’s. She knew Makayla was a computer whiz and that whenever Sam needed technical information, Mac would supply it.
“Why not?” Dad frowned. “You didn’t do anything wrong to get the information, did you? Did the person access computer files of the school’s computers?”
“No, sir.” She licked her lips. Makayla hadn’t broken any laws or rules to trace the information, but guilt strangled Sam as she remembered looking up the EAST students on Mrs. Trees’ computer. That was certainly a violation of rule 314.
“If you got the information through legitimate avenues, why can’t you provide that tracing information?” Dad asked.
“Because I can’t.” She wouldn’t tell on Makayla. Her mom would seriously freak out. Probably pull her out of Robinson and home school her. No, Sam couldn’t put Mac in such a position, and she knew Mom wouldn’t say anything.
Dad sighed. Long. Loudly.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I really am. I’d tell you if I could.”
“I understand why your principal is so frustrated,” Dad groaned.
“Being frustrated isn’t a license to suspend someone covered under the Arkansas shield law,” Mom said.
“What, exactly, is the shield law?” Dad asked.
Mom lifted her ever-present iPhone and read. “Any editor, reporter, or other writer for any newspaper, periodical, or radio station is protected from revealing his or her sources unless the party seeking disclosure can show that the article was written in bad faith, with malice, and not in the interest of the public welfare.”
Dad cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think Sam wrote with malice or bad faith, and exposing bullying for the crime it is, well, that’s certainly public interest. Especially to middle school students.”
“Of course not,” Mom said. She ran a finger over her phone’s touch screen to scroll. “The shield law does not specify whether the source must be promised confidentiality to be protected. In 1978, the Arkansas Supreme Court held that the state’s shield law applied to both civil and criminal proceedings. The court also stated that even where the bad faith/malice requirement is met, the party seeking disclosure should also make a reasonable effort to obtain the information by alter
native means.”
“What does that mean?” Sam asked.
“Did your principal try to find out who was being bullied by any other means than asking you?” Mom asked.
Sam shook her head.
“Did she have anybody check out those computers in the EAST lab to see if a breach was detected?”
Again Sam shook her head. “Not that I know about.”
Mom looked at Dad. “I’m betting she made no other effort, aside from questioning our daughter, to obtain any of this information, which puts her actions against Sam in direct violation of the shield law.”
He nodded.
Mom smiled at Dad. He smiled back at her. They both wore those goofy looks like when they cuddled on the couch. Gross.
Sam shuddered before they turned totally mushy. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re going to school tomorrow,” Mom said. “I’ll be taking you and will meet with your principal first thing.”
The fun was about to begin.
“Sorry I missed your call.” Sam leaned against her headboard and rubbed Chewy’s belly. “I was having a serious discussion with my parents,” she said into her iPhone.
“About getting suspended?” Nikki asked.
“Yeah. Dad flipped, but it’s okay now.” Sam stopped petting her dog and drew her knees to her chest. “You heard about it?”
“Yeah. Listen, I wanted to thank you for not giving my name to Mrs. Trees. Especially since she suspended you for not telling. My mom would be mortified if my name was brought into the mess and if it hurt my chances at homecoming queen.”
That would be why Mrs. Cole would be mortified? Not that someone was bullying her daughter? Sam licked her lips. “It worked out. Mom says she can’t suspend me, so she’s bringing me to school tomorrow and will talk to Mrs. Trees.”
“I’d love to hear that conversation,” Nikki said.
Remembering the look in her mom’s eyes when she went all defender-of-Freedom-of-the-Press mode, Sam laughed. “I don’t know that I want to be there. It probably won’t be pretty. Mom says all reporters, even school paper reporters, are covered under the state shield law. I’m sure she plans to inform Mrs. Trees all about that.”