Read All About It! (13 page)

What?

The fastest thing to do was use Allie's account. I ran down the hall and banged on her door as I opened it.

“Sheesh!” she said. She was on her bed, typing
on her phone. She looked annoyed at me, but I was too frantic to care.

“Can I use your Buddybook account?” I asked, breathless.

“Be my guest, desperado. What's up? More hot Michael Lawrence photos just posted?”

“Very funny.” I dashed to her computer and went to the sign-in page.

“What's your password?” I asked.

“As if,” said Allie. She got off her bed huffily and came to type it in herself. “Look away,” she instructed.

But she did quickly help me find what I was looking for. It was the page Michael had created asking people if they were for or against the new curriculum. Lots of people had voted (still more
for
it than
against,
but the numbers had climbed since this morning. It was now 892 for and 412 against). But the problem was the posts. People had been putting up comments and they were growing more and more heated. I couldn't believe my eyes! People were name-calling and it had deteriorated into just a really ugly war.

“Oh my goodness,” I said.

“It's like a social revolution,” said Allie breathlessly, reading over my shoulder.

“I have to call Michael again!”

“You go girl!” Allie shouted after me, laughing.

I flew back to my room and dialed his number. He answered this time on the second ring.

“I know, I know!” he said, before I could say anything. “I'm taking it down!”

“Wow. You really . . .” I didn't know what to say. “You really started a revolution!”

“I didn't mean to,” he said sheepishly. “I shouldn't have had an area for people to post comments. That was my mistake.”

“Live and learn,” I said, giggling. “I just hope old Pfeiff didn't see it.”

“Me too,” said Michael. “I was going to call you back once I got this under control,” he said.

“Wait!” I said, and told him about what I found in the library.

“That's great news about the video! How did you ever think of such a brilliant thing?” he asked.

I paused. Here was a chance to let him really think I was great, and I hated to miss the
opportunity. But to tell him the truth would have him thinking Hailey was great, and I wasn't so psyched about that.

“Sam? What gave you the idea?”

Mr. Trigg had said, “All's fair in love and war. . . .”

Martone Betrays Best Friend over a Guy.

“Are you still there? Sam?”

Darn it! I couldn't do it. “Stick to the facts, kid,” I heard my journalism teacher Mr. Bloom saying. Stick to the facts.

“It was Hailey!” I blurted finally.

“What was Hailey?” asked Michael.

“She was the one who knew that they tape the PTA meetings. Her mom used to be in the PTA. She was the one who thought to ask in the library. And they had it. It was all her idea.”

“Wow! Hailey really saved the day!” said Michael.

I winced. Oh well, I thought. There goes my chance at love.

“Looks like you're as good at picking friends as you are at everything else!” said Michael cheerily.

What?

Did he really just say that? I didn't know how
to reply. I looked at the receiver in my hand. Did Michael Lawrence really think I was good at things? Like what, I desperately wanted to ask. List some things, please!

“Oh, uh . . . thanks?” I stammered.

“Listen, this is all good, but I've gotta run. Let's swap drafts one more time before the end of the night via e-mail. Then I'll meet you at the
Voice
tomorrow and we can file the story together, okay? Give me your e-mail address since you're not on Buddybook.”

“Okay.” I hesitated. “Newsysaml” sounded so cute when I chose it. Now it was just one more embarrassment.

“Uh, Sam? Your e-mail?”

“Oh, right!” I said, and gave it to him.

Michael chuckled. “Bye, Pasty! I mean
Newsy
!”

Ugh.

I replaced the receiver in the cradle and looked at the phone for a long time. Then I wrapped my arms around myself and hugged my shoulders. Hailey had said it: at least I had nicknames. Maybe that meant something. I felt all warm inside. I think I might actually have a chance with Michael Lawrence!

Impulsively I picked up the receiver again and dialed Hailey. She really was a great friend.

“You're the best!” I said when she picked up.

“Thanks!”

“You saved my butt today!”

“Well you saved mine with the first-person narrative paper!”

“Oh, that was nothing!”

“We're a good team,” said Hailey.

I smiled. “We are.”

After we hung up, I trudged up the stairs to my room and settled back at my desk. I put a few lines in the article about the Buddybook war, and polished up a few other things, then I sent it to Michael and also posted a copy to the
Voice
's server so I could work on it there tomorrow.

Then I pulled out the manila folder from behind my desk, opened it up, and started to type.

“Dear Unlucky,” I began, and my fingers flew over the keys with all I had to say.

Chapter 16

LUCKY IN
LOVE?

Well, I made the deadlines. Both of them.

Michael and I got our article all polished up, of course, even though we
both got yelled at by our moms for staying up so late e-mailing. Mr. Trigg was really
pleased with it and very impressed by our reporting.

“Mr. Lawrence, quite brilliant to research the funding. Jolly good
idea!” he said. “And Ms. Martone, the video evidence is compelling. Very
cloak and dagger.”

“It wasn't my idea, but I'm glad I got the lead. I
can't reveal my source.”

“Sources are what make journalism go round, my girl!”

“And friends!” I added.

“Thanks,” said Michael, smiling at me.

Oh dear. I hadn't meant him, of course, but now I realized I
should have. It was pretty cute that he thought of me as a friend. It's a good
first step to major romance, I think. At least that's what I told Unlucky Taste in
my Dear Know-It-All column.

“Yeah, I think we both learned a lot doing this,” I
said.

Mr. Trigg was nodding happily. “Excellent. Like what?”

Michael and I smiled at each other. “Well . . .” I began.
“You have to listen when you ask questions. You can't just keep firing them
off, and you can't always rely on just copying down answers. You've got to
really hear what people are saying . . .”

“And you've got to be careful of social media,” added
Michael.

“Certainly, we've seen that all over the world,” said
Mr. Trigg, all serious now.

“And you've got to try to look at both sides of everything .
. .” I said.

“Yeah, and also the gray areas and the works in
progress in between,” Michael chimed in. “Also, you have to remember to
feed Sam and stay out of her way.”

I elbowed him. “Be quiet!” But he knew I wasn't mad.
We were friends. I was starting to feel a lot more comfortable around him. And he was
still so super cute. “Anyway, as long as you're making cinnamon buns,
I'm ready to eat,” I added.

Mr. Trigg looked back and forth between us, smiling like a proud father.
“Maybe we have a new arrangement next year. Co-editors-in-chief!” He tapped
his chin thoughtfully with his index finger. “Yes, like a Hepburn and Tracy movie.
I can just see it . . .” He wandered back to his desk, lost in thought.

Michael and I watched him go and then burst out laughing.
“Whatever!” he said.

“Co-editors-in-chief—as if!” I said, but Michael knew
I was joking.

“Good job, partner,” said Michael, reaching out his hand to
shake mine.

I placed my hand in his large, warm paw and we shook, smiling. “A
pleasure doing business with you, Pasty,” he said.

“Thanks, Mikey.”

The paper came out the following Monday and there was a ton of
hoopla. Mr. Pfeiffer called Mr. Trigg and yelled about being misquoted, but Mr. Trigg
said he was standing by his staff and directed Mr. Pfeiffer to watch the video on the
school website. That shut him up fast.

Hailey and I were at lunch together when she opened the paper for the
first time. I held my breath as she read my cover story (Front page! Top of the
fold!).

“Sammy, this is awesome!” she said, and she dove across the
table to give me a huge hug. “Even though I don't understand half of
it!” She laughed.

“Thanks!” I said, my voice muffled by her shoulder.

I finished my lunch while she flipped through the rest of the pages,
chattering and commenting on everything. Finally, she got to the back inside cover. The
Dear Know-It-All page. I looked at her face while she started to read, but then I felt
like I was invading her privacy and I had to get away.

“Want anything? I'm going up for
dessert,” I said.

Hailey didn't even look up. “No thanks. I'm
good,” she said, riveted by the paper.

I watched her from afar as I gathered up my chocolate cake. Out of the
corner of my eye, I spied Michael walking in with Jeff Perry. Oops. I didn't want
to be chatting with him when she finished reading. I quickly dashed back to my table and
slid into my seat.

Hailey had finished reading and looked startled by my reentry.

“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.