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Page 10
“Everything okay?” she asked. “You looked like you were being chased.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. You?”
“Yeah.” She looked at me strangely. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Oh goodness! I have to be careful! “Oh nothing. Just being polite!” Yikes. “Can I see the Dear Know-It-All?”
“Sure. Here.” She slid it over to me. I looked out of the corner of my eye for any signs of emotion, one way or the other, but Hailey’s face didn’t betray anything.
I bent my head and began to read what only Mr. Trigg and I knew I’d written.
Dear Unlucky,
You have done nothing wrong. The people we choose as our friends are the people we have the most in common with, so it’s no surprise that you and your best friend like the same person. In this case, I would say honesty is the best policy. You should tell your best friend how you feel. There is no “wrong or right” in this situation. Not everything is black or white; there is always a gray area to consider. If your friend is really your friend, then he or she will wish you all the best, and if it works out with the person you like, then your friend will be happy for you. That’s how I would feel if you were my friend.
Love is not fact based. It’s not something we can shut down when it gets out of our control, like a page on Buddybook. It’s just what happens when all the pieces fall into place. Good luck to you and your friend, and the person you both like. I hope it all works out for the best.
Your friend,
Dear Know-It-All
I finished reading and I looked up at Hailey. “Wow.” My voice was kind of scratchy so I cleared my throat. “Great column.” I looked around the cafeteria and noticed the kids at every table gathered around copies of the Voice. Were they reading my article? Were they reading my column? It was a weird feeling, but a great one.
“Sam,” Hailey began. Her voice was serious. “I . . . I have a confession to make. I wrote this letter. I . . . I had a crush on Michael Lawrence.”
“Hey, dudes!” Jeff Perry clattered his tray onto the table and sat down, with Michael Lawrence right behind him.
“What’s up, ladies?” said Michael.
Hailey and I looked at each other and started to laugh. Hard.
Michael winced. “Was it something we said?”
I felt bad. He was embarrassed, but I didn’t want him to feel that way. “No, totally not. It is not about you at all. We’re just laughing about my stupid sister, Allie. She’s obsessed with texting, that’s all.” I lied quickly so no one’s feelings would be hurt. Only a friend could tell you something you needed to hear. Hailey told me I hadn’t been so nice to Michael, so it was about time I started listening.
Michael relaxed and smiled back. “Oh. Got it.”
I really needed to talk to Hailey, and as much as I (we?) loved Michael, I had to leave and finish my conversation with her. “Guys, hate to eat and run, but . . .”
“We just got here!” protested Jeff. “And we have all this great stuff in the Voice to talk about!
Hailey was standing up and gathering her tray and things and I followed suit.
“Sorry, boys! Sometimes girls just need to be alone! Adios.” I waggled my fingers at them.
“Hey! Got something for you!” said Michael. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a scrap of white paper. “Here. Open it later. It’s about the paper.” He handed it to me.
I looked down but didn’t open it. “Okay. Thanks! See you guys!”
Hailey was waiting for me at the door.
She kept right on talking as if we hadn’t been interrupted, the words tumbling out of her in a great torrent. “What I wanted to say was . . . I’m over it. The crush. I’m so sorry. I just . . . I guess I felt comfortable around him and I was used to checking him out, you know, on your behalf. It was like I just talked myself into it. But now . . . I mean, this past week . . . I see how you two are perfect for each other. I mean, you share all these interests, and he’s so in love with you . . . and . . .”
“Wait, wait. Stop. Slow down. Okay. Wait. What?”
“Michael Lawrence. I had a crush. It’s over. Anyway, he loves you.”
“He does not!” I said. But I couldn’t stop the small smile that lifted the corners of my mouth. “Do you think?”
“Duh! Stealing your notebook, inviting you over, baking you cinnamon buns for goodness’ sake! And the way he looks at you!”
“Wait, you think he stole my notebook?”
“Totally.”
“Huh.” I hadn’t thought of that. But the cinnamon buns had given me pause.
“Anyway, I still do think he’s a really great guy, and I think you should be a lot nicer to him. He really likes you.”
“Wow. I’d never thought of it that way. Thanks Hails. You’re the best. And . . . and . . . well, I’m sorry if you liked him too. I guess that was kind of hard.”
Hailey shrugged and hugged me tight and ran off to her next class. All’s Well That Ends Well.
I went to the bathroom, and after I’d washed and dried my hands, I pulled Michael’s note out of my pocket.
“Great column, Pasty,” it said. Awww. Wait. Which column was he talking about? Our column? Or Know-It-All? Oh my gosh. Did Michael Lawrence know?
Oh boy.
After school the staff met at the Cherry Valley Voice office to go over our first edition. Everyone was talking and laughing and was in a good mood. Everyone at school had been buzzing about the paper, and there was a rumor that the PTA was going to talk about our article at the next meeting. Holy cow!
“Silence!” called Mr. Trigg. “Silence, people, please!”
Everyone settled down.
“First,” said Mr. Trigg, “I’d like to commend you all on one fabulous first edition of the paper. Excellent start!”
Everyone started clapping and cheering. “I believe our stalwart editor in chief, Susannah, would like to address the troops now.”
Susannah stood up. “Well, ditto to what Mr. Trigg said. Plus I’d like to call out a few special people who did some great work. Jeff Perry’s photos were fantastic.” Everyone clapped. Jeff looked really happy.
“And Michael Lawrence and Samantha Martone’s story really set the tone for the year. It was great journalism!” I was so proud, but also a little shy. Michael high-fived me. “It was good teamwork!” he called out. I knew I was smiling really, really hard. It felt like my face might crack, and I wasn’t even wearing a mud mask!
“And,” said Susannah, “I’d like to thank all the columnists who also got the year off to such a strong start, including a really great and thoughtful Know-It-All column, whoever he or she may be. It was kind and good advice, and I’m sure it helped a lot of people.”
“That’s true,” whispered Michael, leaning in.
“Um . . . what?” I asked.
“That it was a great column,” he whispered back. I looked at him. Was he just saying that or did he know?
“Yeah,” I said. “It must have been pretty hard to write.”
“Or be in that situation,” said Michael. “It takes a really good friend to write something like that.”
“Oh, that too,” I said. Now I was really confused. Boys. Just when you think you’ve figured them out.
Susannah was going over assignments for next week with Mr. Trigg. I was still trying to figure out if Michael knew that I was Know-It-All.
“So what do you say, Pasty?” said Michael.
“Um . . . what?”
Michael rolled his eyes. “You and me as a writing team for the next story? I don’t know how we’ll top this first one but . . .”
“Oh!” I said. “Oh, sure. Yes! That would be so great!” Then I stopped and laughed. “You know, Hailey wondered why they didn’t overhaul the lunch menu before the curriculum.” I don’t know why I said that. Maybe I was still thinking of Hailey a little bit. Plus she was sure helping me out with stories.
“Hey!” said Michael. “That’s i
t! That’s our next story! Why the tuna surprise is not a good surprise! It’s going to be groundbreaking journalism.” He put his arm around me. It felt really, really nice.
I laughed. I didn’t know if he was kidding or not. I just knew that I really loved him right then and there, even if I didn’t know if he felt the same way. And that the next time he invited me over for a cinnamon bun, I was definitely accepting.
Journalist Keeps Best Friend, Gains 500 Pounds on All–Cinnamon-Bun Diet. And Is Still in Love.
RACHEL WISE loves to give advice. When she’s not editing or writing children’s books, which she does full time at a publisher in New York, she’s reading advice columns in newspapers, magazines, and blogs, and is always sure her advice would be better! Her dream is to someday have her own talk show, where she could share her wisdom with millions of people at once; but for now she’s happy to dole out advice in small portions in Dear Know-It-All books.
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Jacket design by Laura L. DiSiena
Jacket illustrated by James Bernardin
Jacket illustrations copyright © 2012
by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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