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Authors: Gordon Korman

BOOK: Don't Care High
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“But everyone's counting on you!” protested Sheldon.

“On me,” Mike repeated.

“Exactly. So you have to go to the science fair with us on Wednesday afternoon. That's all.”

Mike thought about it for a long time. Then he said, “No.”

“Oh, please!” Paul blurted. “We
need
you to be there! You have no idea how much we need you to be there!”

Mike looked haunted. “I won't have to do anything there?”

“Not a thing,” said Sheldon quickly. “Nothing at all. We'll do everything.”

“Well, then, I guess I can go.” There was a pause as Sheldon and Paul looked at him, awaiting more. “I should eat lunch now,” said Mike, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Sure!” said Sheldon. “No problem. We'll get right out of your way. Thanks a lot, Mike.”

On Wednesday morning, the principal urged all students to drop by the science fair after classes when the prizes were to be awarded. Sheldon did him one better, however, spreading the word that Mike expected a good turnout for the judging, which was to begin at one-thirty.

“The fair is open to the public,” Sheldon reasoned, “so we'll get a gang in there to ooh and aah over Mike's project when the judges are looking. It can't hurt to stack the audience a little.”

As the head of the science department, Mr. Schmidt was obligated to drive Sheldon, Paul and the project to the Midtown Community Center. Clearly, though, he did not wish to be associated with “The Sewer System,” and once inside the building, made himself extremely scarce. He avoided all his colleagues — apparently afraid that they were going to laugh at him — promised to be back for the presentations, and disappeared.

Mike wasn't due to arrive until one, but Sheldon and Paul had everything set up by eleven-thirty. There was light traffic among the booths, mostly adults, and Don Carey High School's first entry in forty years was the centre of much attention. The boys took some kidding, and smiled bravely through a lot of sewer jokes. The fair officials were shocked by the project. Anything at all from Don Carey High was completely unexpected; the end result of so much work was astonishing.

Paul let Sheldon field the questions about Mike, which Sheldon did casually by saying, “Oh, Mike'll be here soon. He's just tied up somewhere — busy man, you know.”

Many of the spectators had heard about Mike's brief sojourn as student body president, and expressed an interest in meeting him.

“That's really impressive,” commented one teacher. “It's quite an accomplishment to get that kind of enthusiasm from Don't Care — uh — your school.”

“I hope you get a chance to meet Mike,” said Sheldon glibly. “He's not what you'd expect. He's very quiet.”

At noon, Mr. Morrison arrived, his face flushed with excitement as he attended his first ever extracurricular activity as a Don Carey staff member. He stood proudly in front of the booth, hailing all the people he knew and making sure all were aware that Don Carey had an entry this year. In his opinion, this science fair was the first step on the school's road back to respectability, and he was aching to see the entry win a prize.

In another half-hour, Paul began to notice some of the Don't Care students among the browsers. These were the usual prominent citizens in the Mike Otis scheme of things: Wayne-o, the LaPazes and the WOW Connection. These people stayed away from the booth, though, to avoid being seen by Mr. Morrison, who might have wanted to know why they were not in class. He did see them eventually, but was so overwhelmed by the school spirit that had brought them there that he greeted them happily.

One o'clock came and went, and there were about twenty Don't Care students in circulation, but no Mike.

“I knew it!” Paul moaned. “I knew he wouldn't show up!”

“Shh, Ambition. He'll be here. Don't worry. He probably just got lost. Why don't you go to the door and look for him?”

Paul made his way to the hall's main entrance and poked his head outside. He gaped. The stairs, the sidewalk and the lawns were teeming with Don't Care students — it looked like the whole school was there. A group of bewildered centre security personnel had set up a rope barrier and were going through the motions of crowd control. But the students were peaceful. They swarmed behind the barrier and waited patiently for developments. At the head of the group was the massive Slim Kroy. He held his tuba high, like a standard, and all rallied behind it.

Rigid with shock, Paul hurried back to Sheldon and related the situation.

Sheldon broke into a broad grin. “What a great school we go to!”

“Shel, I don't think you realize the seriousness of the situation! It's one twenty-five, Mike's not here, and there are thousands of people out there who are going to blame us for the whole thing!”

Suddenly, a great cheer went up outside the building, and there was a rush to the front door as the stirring strains of Slim Kroy's
Mike Otis Tuba Solo
wafted into the hall. And then he stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the bright afternoon sun — the student body ex-president and true leader of Don't Care High.

A murmur went up in the main hall as Sheldon and Paul both hurried over and hustled Mike to the project. Paul was too relieved to speak, but Sheldon babbled ecstatically about “The Sewer System” being the best effort in the place and no one else having a chance.

“Isn't it a beauty?” said Sheldon proudly.

Wayne-o sidled over to Mike. “The way I see it, you can't lose. There are only three other really classy-looking projects here. One's about solar energy, which is a big yawn; there's another called ‘The Abiotic Synthesis of Organic Compounds,' which is a burn-out because who can understand that kind of stuff?; and the third is called ‘You Can Live Beneath the Sea,' which is about settlements on the ocean floor. It's okay, but who's going to want to live beneath the sea with all that sewage dumped there? You're a cinch.” To Paul he added, “Look how cool he is! Not a nervous bone in his body! A normal man would be sweating his guts out in this spot.”

“I see what you mean,” Paul agreed weakly.

The head judge approached. “Ah. ‘The Sewer System.' Quite a popular little entry you've got here.” He checked the photographs and smiled at Mike. “Okay, first of all, do you certify that this is your own original work?”

“No.”

A gasp went up in the immediate vicinity, and Paul knew that it was all over. After that one little syllable, nothing anyone could say or do would save the hundreds of man-hours of work. The plug was pulled on “The Sewer System.”

“What he means to say,” Sheldon put in quickly, “is that we're… uh… a very cooperative school at Don't Care — Don Carey, so any one student's work is the work of the whole school, and —”

The judge ignored him and addressed Mike once again. “You had help?” There was no answer, so he asked, “What percentage of this project is your own work?”

Mike reverted to his stock answer. “I didn't do anything.”

“Modest!” croaked Sheldon. “He's being modest! What a guy!”

“Do you understand the consequences of what you're saying, Mike?” the judge asked.

“Probably not,” said Mike blandly.

The judge shook his head. “Well, I'm afraid I'm forced to disqualify this entry.”

“Wait a minute here!” Mr. Morrison stormed onto the scene. “You can't disqualify this fine project just because of a… technicality!”

“I think this is more than a technicality,” said the judge haughtily.

“But this is our first entry in forty years!”

The judge looked at him unkindly. “Well, then, someone at Don't Care High had plenty of time to see to it that it was done correctly!”

“It's not Don't Care High!” In a rage, the guidance counsellor grabbed the brimming bucket of blue-dyed water that was to be used in the working model and sloshed it into the judge's face.

The judge then sacrificed what was left of his dignity and took a swing at Mr. Morrison, who ducked, and the man's fist made contact with a cage of twenty-five white mice. The cage sailed through the air and split in two as it hit the floor, its occupants scrambling in all directions.

Wayne-o sprinted to the door. “Mike's been disqualified!” he shouted to the waiting crowd. “After all his hard work, he's been disqualified!”

Slim Kroy was the first to react. “We've got to see him right away!” He leaped over the barrier and thundered into the hall. The rest of the students poured in after him, their one concern to reach the ex-president and console him in this moment of injustice.

May I have your attention, please. Here are the day's announcements.

Based on the number of classes that suffered from absenteeism yesterday, plus some eyewitness accounts, I conclude that many of you were present to watch our school participate in the Citywide High School Science Fair, which was postponed — a term I use in favour of “eradicated.” You will be pleased to know that no one accused our students directly of wanton destruction. But, in retrospect, it should be obvious to everyone that when you cram upwards of two thousand people into a hall designed for five hundred, the occasional beaker is bound to get broken. And when this is allowed to happen for an extended period of time — for instance until the police arrive — it is conceivable that there should be very little left of eighty-two projects. Thus, we are now the first school which, upon placing its first entry after a long leave of absence, is emphatically invited never to return. Oh, yes, it's also nice to know that, in the face of adversity, our staff can be depended on to react with efficiency and calm. “Let he who is without sin cast the first bucket of blue water.” That's all. Have a good day.

Mr. Morrison sat at his desk, acting extremely nonchalant, and making no comment about the announcement. He examined his fingernails and racked his brain for something to say that did not relate to the previous day's happenings, in which he had played such a major role.

Sheldon and Paul sat at their desks holding a spontaneous contest over who would be first to break out laughing. Paul had resolved to treat the matter grimly, but one look at Sheldon's face dissipated his intentions on the spot.

Wayne-o stood up. “Mr. Morrison, I want to say that you were just great yesterday, standing up for Mike like you did.”

Mr. Morrison flushed bright red. “It was a very foolish thing, and —”

“No it wasn't! It was amazing! What a shot! Anyway, I want you to know that I'm proud to be in your homeroom.”

A burst of applause crackled in the room. Mr. Morrison didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He had disgraced himself and his school, and thereby received his first ever demonstration of student appreciation. What a muddle, but it all felt rather good. He permitted himself a smile. That judge was an insensitive clod anyway. He deserved to be blue.

Please excuse the interruption. In all the excitement about the science fair, I neglected to mention a matter so vital that it's a wonder it slipped my mind. The girls' basketball team plays its first scheduled game against Laguna High School in exactly one week's time. Coach Murphy informs me that we have no players. This is unfortunate, since the players are often one of the deciding factors in a basketball game. Last minute tryouts will be held this afternoon after classes. That's all.

“Well, I guess we blew our big chance for glory at the science fair yesterday,” said Paul as he and Sheldon headed for English class. “The girls' basketball team doesn't seem bound for greatness.”

Sheldon looked thoughtful. “Oh, I don't know about that. How much do you want to bet that we win that game at Laguna?”

“Any money,” grinned Paul. “We don't have any players, and even if we did, I've heard Laguna's one of the best teams in the city.”

“I predict a burst of enthusiasm in basketball here at Don Carey High School.”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“Haven't you noticed lately what a keen interest Mike is taking in the sports program?” asked Sheldon innocently. “When the girls at this school find out that Mike intends to sponsor this team personally, I figure the tryouts'll be mobbed.”

Warning bells went off inside Paul's head. “Aw, Shel, you don't have the nerve to do that again — at least not so soon after yesterday's disaster.”

“Yesterday wasn't a disaster — it was a triumph. Okay, so we didn't win. But neither did anybody else. I think of the whole science fair as one big tie, which is pretty good when you consider Mike isn't used to competition like that. And no one can say we have no school spirit after that great turnout. If we can get a crowd like that at the basketball game, poor Laguna will be too psyched-out to play. And all we have to do is convince Mike to show up.”

“He's bound to remember what happened yesterday and say no.”

“But we know how to handle him now,” argued Sheldon. “If he doesn't respond to reason, you'll just beg and grovel like you did last time. Anyway, the important thing is to get the team out this afternoon. No team, no game.”

* * *

In chemistry class, Paul was taken completely off-guard when Daphne Sylvester spoke to him. This event was so unexpected that at first he was not able to take in her words. “Pardon me?”

“I said I've noticed that you and Mike Otis are pretty good friends.”

“Well… uh… I guess so,” Paul stammered warily.

Daphne's normally vacant eyes assumed a dreamy expression. “Is he really as wonderful as everyone says he is?”

“Oh yes,” Paul choked. “He's wonderful all right.”

“What's he like?”

“He's very — intense.”

Daphne sighed. “Do you think there'd be any way that I could get to — you know — 
meet
him?”

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