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Authors: Rachel Wise

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Pfeiffer allowed a small smile but he was still suspicious of us. He
nodded. “Go on.”

Michael continued. “I just wanted to get your comments on the
state funding of the change. I pulled up these documents.” He stood and laid them
on Pfeiffer's desk. “They indicate that the funding for the changes was
actually funding for teacher development that was kind of redirected to this
project.”

Pfeiffer sat up and flipped through the pages.
Then
he looked up at us. “Impressive research.” For the first time, he smiled.
“I'm glad that our school newspaper staff is so dedicated.”

“Can you explain the funding?” asked Michael.

Pfeiffer was relaxed now. “Yes. The way that money for public
education is allocated is through a very political process involving budgets and unions.
It can be ugly, sneaky, and disheartening. We have wanted to make these curriculum
changes for a very long time but were unable to fight the teacher's union to get
money for kids rather than the teachers. In the end, we were able to reach a compromise
wherein the teachers technically got the money, but what it really was for was to teach
them a new way of teaching. It allows them to explore more reading and writing-based
materials and it supports them in their learning to teach in this new way. So while it
looks kind of tricky on paper, it's just a back door way of getting the money we
need but making everyone happy along the way. You know, sometimes in politics, like in
life, not everything is black and white. Sometimes there are gray areas to
consider.”

Michael was the one who was impressed now, and I
had to admit, I was too.

“So you kind of trick the government into giving you the money you
want, for the project you want, and everyone ends up happy?”

Pfeiffer was beaming now. “Yes.”

I made some notes and then it was my turn. “The other thing we
were wondering about was when you said at the meeting that it's a ‘work in
progress,' do you think you should have waited to unveil the new curriculum until
it was totally ready?”

Mr. Pfeiffer's face darkened, like a cloud passing over the sun.
“I didn't say that,” he said.

My heart skipped a beat. “Yes you did.”

But Mr. Pfeiffer was shaking his head. “I never said such a thing.
It's not true. We were all ready with the roll out.”

Michael interrupted. “With all due respect, Mr. Pfeiffer, you did
say it.”

Pfeiffer was growing angry, I could see it. “Kids, I am all for
encouraging young journalists, and I think Mr. Trigg is doing a terrific job with the
paper. But putting words in my mouth is going too
far. Now,
I'm happy to answer any other questions you might have. I have”—he
lifted his cuff and looked at his watch—“exactly two minutes until my next
meeting, so is there anything else?”

Michael and I looked at each other. This was not good. A Work in
Progress was going to be our headline.

Finally, Michael looked at Mr. Pfeiffer. “That's it,
sir.” He stood up and put his hand out for a handshake. “Thank you for your
time.”

“Glad to be helpful,” said Mr. Pfeiffer gruffly.

“Thanks, Mr. Pfeiffer,” I said.

In the hall I let out a huge sigh. “Phew. That was intense. What
do you think?”

Michael rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Man, I don't
know. I remember him saying it. And it's such a bummer because that was our
headline and our thesis.”

“Back to the drawing board,” I said.

“Ugh. I barely have any time tonight,” said Michael.

“I can take a stab at reworking it,” I said. “We sure
can't put it in if he's denying saying it. I just
wish
we could prove it. I mean, facts are
facts
.”

“Remember what he said, not everything is black and white.
Sometimes there's a gray area to consider.”

“Humph,” I said. “There's no such thing as gray
areas!”

Michael laughed. “I've gotta run. Let's touch base
later.”

I nodded. “Definitely.”

He went one way and I went the other, and who should I bump into,
literally, but Hailey.

“Oh my goodness. Sorry!” I said, bending to pick up the book
I'd knocked out of her hand. I handed it back to her and our eyes met. Hailey
looked miserable. I didn't know what to say.

“Why didn't you answer my note the other day?” she
asked.

“What note?” I said, but as I spoke I remembered. Darn!
“Oh. I just . . . I didn't know what to say.”

“Well,
are
you mad at me?” she
asked.

“I . . . I'm not mad. No. I'm just . . . frustrated.
That's all.”

Hailey almost looked relieved. “Why? What did I do?” she
asked.

I sighed. Nothing. Everything. How could I possibly
explain? “It's nothing . . . black or white,” I said, trying out Mr.
Pfeiffer's figure of speech. “It's just . . . I don't know. I
was kind of annoyed over the weekend.”

Hailey looked perplexed. “Well, are you still?”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “I guess not.” Not on
an everyday basis, anyway. I'd spent so much quality time with Michael during the
past few days that I didn't really feel like Hailey was ahead anymore in the fight
for his love. Plus, let's face it, she was my best friend. Between Michael and
Hailey, who would I really choose? “I'm sorry,” I offered.

Hailey shrugged. “It's okay. I just can't be in a
fight with you because I'm failing all my classes and I need your homework
help.”

“Really? In the past two days?”

“Kind of. All this reading and writing we had due yesterday.
It's just not my thing.”

I flashed back to the dad asking the question about reading levels at
the PTA meeting. I wondered what Pfeiffer was doing to support the kids who needed
help.

“Have you told your teachers? I mean,
I'm happy to help, but maybe you need tutoring or something.”

Hailey nodded. “I'm getting it. I just hate doing the work
on my own.”

I felt bad. We usually did homework together. “I'll tell you
what. Why don't we meet at the library after school today and I will help
you.”

Hailey nodded. “I have soccer at four thirty.”

“Okay, so from three to four fifteen then.”

“Great. Thanks so much, Sam!” Hailey moved her books aside
and gave me a big hug.

“See you then,” I said, glad to be friends again.

“Bye!” Hailey practically skipped away. I guess she was
relieved too.
Peace Achieved by Warring Factions.

Now I just had to cram in rewriting my whole curriculum article (which
should have been done by now!), doing my homework, helping Hailey with hers, finalizing
the soccer tryout article, oh yeah . . . and writing the Dear Know-It-All column!

I hurried off to class, purposely taking the long way so I
wouldn't run into Trigger on the way.

How was I going to get it all done?

Chapter 15

BEST FRIEND TO THE RESCUE

The library was almost empty, I guess 'cause it was kind of an Indian summer and people could still enjoy the day once they left school. I found Hailey immediately, and after bumping my chair really hard against my leg (Why, why was I such a klutz?), I settled in beside her and helped her with her work.

One thing about Hailey is that she's a hard worker. She might have some learning differences, but she never gives up, even though lots of stuff takes twice as long for her as for regular learners like me. I was patient with her and we got through her first assignment pretty quick. While she worked on the final part, I pulled out my draft of the article and reread it to see where I could make changes to
cut all the “work in progress” stuff.

I guess I sighed hard as I was reading and puzzling, so Hailey said, “What's the matter?”

I tried to blow it off but ended up telling her the whole story, kind of the short version.

“So you have to rewrite the whole thing just because you can't prove that he said that, even though you know he did?”

I nodded miserably.

“Bummer. Bad enough to have to write it once, but twice?”

I half smiled. It would be Hailey's worst nightmare. She turned back to her paper and I kept reading, struggling.

But suddenly, after a couple of minutes, she turned to me. “You've watched the videotape of the meeting, right?”

“What?” My pulse quickened. “What videotape?” Could there be such a thing?

“Well, I'm pretty sure they tape all those meetings. I mean, I remember when my mom was the assistant head of the PTA, she always got dressed up to go to the meetings because she said
they film them, and she wanted to look her best.”

My jaw dropped. “Who is ‘they'?”

“The school.”

I looked around. “Where do you think they store the films?”

Hailey shrugged. “Here?” Her palms were up and she swiveled her head around.

I jumped out of my chair, banging my leg again, and quickly crossed the room to the librarian's office. I tapped on her door. “Mrs. Osborne? Excuse me?”

“Hi, honey,” Mrs. Osborne was a very kind, grandmotherly woman with white hair, and smart. If you were making a librarian from scratch, she is what you'd dream up. “What can I help you find today?”

I explained what I needed, and before I was even finished, she was nodding her head. “Certainly. The school stores it on the website. It's in the public domain. I can show you how to access it from one of the desktop computers,” she said.

“Great. Thanks.” Wow! Inside I was bursting with excitement. I followed her to the computer area, pumping my fist at Hailey in victory, but knowing
this was just step one. If we found the film, I still had to review the whole thing and see if he said it.

“Here we go.” Mrs. Osborne sat down and fiddled with the computer, setting it all up. “Let's see, last Thursday, I believe it was? That was September sixteenth . . .” She clicked on a link and it opened a QuickTime video screen. “Here we go, honey. Let me know if you have any problems.”

It was that easy!

“Thanks so much, Mrs. Osborne! You're the best!” Eagerly, I sat down and put on the earphones and began playing the movie. It covered the whole two hour meeting so I tried to fast-forward, but it skipped too much. Finally I just gave up and settled in to watch the whole thing through. At least I knew it would be in the first half of the meeting, before Michael had left, because he said he'd heard it too.

After a while, Hailey came over and tapped me on the shoulder. “I have to go,” she said quietly. “Thanks for your help. I'll call you later.”

I waved and continued watching. It was really pretty boring, watching this all over again in real time. Finally we got to the part where I was asking
questions. I winced. It was horrible watching myself. I had been a little aggressive. Michael was right. Maybe a softer approach would be more appropriate. I kind of looked like a show-off. . . .

Wait! I'd heard it! There it was! I clicked on the rewind button and moved the film back a few frames.

“. . . It's kind of a work in progress . . .” Mr. Pfeiffer was saying. Eureka! I jumped up to celebrate, forgetting that I had the earphones on. The cord yanked my head back as I stood up and I kind of cracked my head on the monitor. I looked around. Thank goodness no one was here to see that!

Mrs. Osborne came over to where I was seated. “I'll be going now, unless you need anything else? The custodian will be in shortly to lock up.”

“I'll head out with you. Let me just grab my stuff.”

It was late for me when I got home. I quickly called Michael Lawrence's house (Daring
me
! Twice in one week!), but his mom, who was superfriendly on the phone, said he wasn't home from practice yet. I couldn't feel totally settled until I'd told him about the video I'd seen. I rushed through my homework and wolfed down my dinner, then I ran back to my
computer to tighten up the article.

While I was reviewing it, I got an e-mail from Allie. I had tons of e-mail but hadn't had a chance to sift through them yet today. Allie's said, “R U in a fight with H?”

Is my sister psychic? How does she know everything?

“What?” I wrote back. “Why do you care?”

“Haven't seen her over here in a while. Morgan has a crush on her brother and I don't want it to be awkward if I invite him over for Wii this weekend.”

I thought about this for a minute. Allie and her friends socializing with Hailey's brother. Oh, whatever.

“No, it's fine,” I typed back. “Not sure why you couldn't stand up and come ask me in my room.”

There was no reply, naturally.

“I guess you have all the school supplies you need,” I typed. “Or you'd have already been in here.” Ha! I love having the last word!

I scrolled through the rest of my e-mail (mostly spam and junk) until my eye caught one from Mr. Trigg! Oh no!

I almost didn't want to open it, but I had to. It read:

“Ms. Martone, I am very sorry, but if I do not
have your column in hand by tomorrow morning, I'm afraid I will have to ask one of your peers to take over. I still think you are the right person for the job, so please do your best to prove it.

Many thanks.

Nathan Trigg”

One of my peers! That could be Michael! Then he'd be on the road to editor in chief! No way!

I started to draft a reply but suddenly an e-mail pinged into my box with all kinds of urgent red flags and exclamation points attached. It was from Hailey. I opened it.

“Major Buddybook meltdown!” it said. “Get on quick and look!”

I groaned. I didn't have time for this junk tonight. I deleted the e-mail, but another one popped up from her, all urgent and desperate again. “It's all about your article! Quick!”

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