by Rachel Wise
“Wow. Why would someone do something like this?”
Hailey shrugged. “Do you think we might have to take the test over?”
My stomach did a flip. In the back of my mind I’ll admit I’d had the same thought and quickly pushed it away. Suddenly I wasn’t so hungry anymore.
“If we do, I swear I’ll make it my mission to find the person who did it and personally give them a piece of my mind. Michael and I are going to do a story on it for the paper,” I said.
“So maybe you will actually find out who did it!”
“They better beware.” I meant it. It’s one thing to make your own mistakes, but to ruin things for everyone else, like me, who worked hard and followed the rules. It made me so mad.
“It’s sure livened things up around here,” Hailey said, looking around. You could see people huddled around talking, and if I had to bet, I’d guess most people were talking about exactly what we were talking about.
After we left the cafeteria, I was having a hard time concentrating on my earthonomics class. But just before the next class began, the principal’s loud booming voice came on the loudspeaker.
“Good afternoon, students of Cherry Valley Middle School. I have an important announcement to make,” Mr. Pfeiffer began. You could hear a pin drop. “I’m sure most of you have heard that there has been a security breach in regard to the third-quarter math assessments. We have started an investigation, but at this point the results of the exam are invalid. A new test schedule will be sent home by the end of the week and all seventh-grade students will be retested. Thanks for your understanding during this trying time. Please direct questions to your teachers or to me. Remember, gossip hurts everyone.”
The microphone went off and the silence continued. My cheeks felt hot as the news sank in. I’d actually have to take my math test over! The one that I’d studied a whole week for! It was so unfair!
I looked up at Mrs. Birnbaum. She was pacing in the front of the room, her arms crossed, shaking her head. She seemed as upset as I was. But she didn’t have to take the test over.
“This brings up a lot of important questions and issues,” she said after a moment, addressing the class. “This disrupts everyone’s schedules, including the teachers. I do find myself angry. But it’s hard to be angry when you don’t know who to be angry at.”
Sophie Meyers, who sat in the front, was on the math team, and was basically known for being a straight-A student, raised her hand.
“Yes, Sophie,” Mrs. Birnbaum said, pointing to her.
“I just can’t believe someone could be so selfish. I work really hard to do well. And now I’ll have to work even harder because someone else was lazy and dishonest.” Sophie’s voice shook a little from her strong emotions. I was surprised that someone like Sophie Meyers was so upset. Doing well seemed to come so easily to her. But I guess getting straight A’s wasn’t easy for anyone. I also realized these were great quotes for the Voice article. I got out my notebook and started to write down what Mrs. Birnbaum and Sophie were saying.
“Well, first of all”—Mrs. Birnbaum sat down on the front edge of her desk—“at this point we don’t even know if it was a student who hacked into the system. But I understand how you feel, Sophie. The entire math department will have to create a new exam in the next few days. More work for you guys means more work for teachers, too. It’s unfair; no way around it.”
“If it was a student,” Will Hutchins said, and paused for a moment before going on, “maybe the kid was really stressed out. Maybe his or her parents were coming down very hard. This person might have reacted out of fear, not really thinking about how it would affect other people. It just might not be so black and white—the hacker is bad, others are good.”
I put my pencil down and looked at Will. He was the kind of kid who never stood out that much. He was quiet in class and really into computers and he was in the IT club. He was actually one of the students helping the paper change over to a new online format. I’d barely even remembered he was in the class until he spoke up. It was a good point, and a brave one to make, since I couldn’t help but think that the kind of kid who did this might be just like Will.
“That’s a really good point, Will,” Mrs. Birnbaum said. “It’s important to remember all sides to this issue and not to jump to any judgments until we hear all the facts.”
“But even if the kid was stressed out, it doesn’t make it okay. We all feel stress,” Sophie said, now glaring at Will.
“These are all really good points,” Mrs. Birnbaum said, “and a lot to think about. But we’re going to have to stop here and get some things done today. Remember, if you’re feeling overwhelmed, please come to me or any teacher and ask for help. There’s a lot of pressure on students these days. Don’t be afraid to reach out.”
We started a new unit, but my mind was swimming with all these quotes I was collecting even before officially starting the article. This was going to be big.
At the Voice meeting, Michael, who is always running late, was actually there before I was and had saved me a seat.
“I’ve already got some great quotes for the piece,” he whispered in my ear.
“Me too!” I whispered back.
“Nice,” Michael said. The room was all abuzz. Mr. Trigg had to clap his hands loudly to get our attention. Everyone finally quieted down.
“Greetings, fellow journos! So we had some big breaking news, folks,” Mr. Trigg said. “We want to handle this well. As Churchill once said, ‘With great success, comes great responsibility,’ and I can think of no better words for this occasion.”
Michael looked at me and rolled his eyes. Trigger, as we liked to call him, always started quoting Winston Churchill when he got excited, and nothing made Mr. Trigg more excited than a good scoop. I thought about the quote, though, and it definitely rang true.
“So I think we can count on the Martone/Lawrence duo to investigate this with their usual gusto.”
Michael gave a thumbs-up and I nodded, hoping no one would see the color that rushed to my cheeks hearing our names like that.
“But, Mr. Lawrence and Ms. Martone, please remember the wise words of Churchill. This story is big and will get outside press attention, so I want to make sure you guys are up for the task. We will need accurate, spot-on coverage here, which I know you do well. You’ll have to be extracareful to fact-check everything. No hearsay. This may be one of the most important stories you work on this year.”
More nodding from me and Michael, and then I started to get a tight feeling in my throat. I’d thought I was up for the task, but now Mr. Trigg was scaring me with all his Winston Churchill energy. At least I wasn’t in it alone. I wondered if Michael was also feeling, as Mr. Trigg would say, just a “tad” overwhelmed.
“The other item on the docket is that this issue will be our first ever online edition. As you know, the entire office just received upgraded computers, so I thought it was time for us to get with the twenty-first century. We will still have a print run, but the entire paper will also be available online instantly the moment we hit the publish button. Thanks to everyone on the IT team for making this change possible.”
People started clapping and cheering, and I looked over at the group of students from the IT club who I assumed had come to the meeting for this moment. My eyes traveled over to Will Hutchins. He sat in the back of the group wearing the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head, not smiling. Something was a little odd about him. He saw me looking at him and I quickly looked away.
“So I think you have your work cut out for you, folks,” Mr. Trigg said, and tugged on the lucky scarf he always wore to the meetings. Newspaper Advisor Makes Understatement of the Yea
r. Just when I thought things were calming down.
Chapter 3
Cheating Virus Takes Over Middle School
Hey Paste! We need 2 get together and discuss article. Wednesday night my house?
That was the IM blinking on my screen when I finally got home. A wave of excitement washed over me. I know Michael wouldn’t have asked me if we didn’t have the article to do, but still, it was kind of awesome to be greeted with that kind of message.
Sure, what time? I replied, trying to play it cool.
How about 7?
Good. Will there be cinnamon buns? I asked.
We’ll see how good your quotes are . . .
I smiled. Michael made these great cinnamon buns and sometimes he made them when we were working on a story. My mouth started to water just thinking of them. Then I realized I needed to message Hailey. I hadn’t even told her about the broken zipper incident and now my work date with Michael on Wednesday night. Life might have been moving a million miles an hour, but at least it wasn’t boring!
But before I did that, I wanted to check out my Dear Know-It-All letter stash for the week. I took them out of my pocket and read the first one. Dear Know-It-All, I’m always losing stuff: my phone, my homework, my favorite glow-in-the-dark rainbow key chain. How can I keep better track of things? My favorite glow-in-the-dark rainbow key chain? Was this person serious? Next.
Dear Know-It-All,
I had a friend write one of my book reports for English. I hate my English class, and anyway, I’m going to be a singer in a rock-and-roll band, so I don’t think speaking or writing perfect English is going to be important to my life. I have another report coming up and I think I want my friend to help me out again. What do you think?
Rock on,
Rock Star
I swallowed hard and put the letter down on my desk. What was going on here? Cheating Virus Takes Over Middle School. First of all, the idea of letting someone else write your words for you was appalling enough, and then to take credit for it! It’s one thing to wish you didn’t have to write something, but it’s quite another to do what Rock Star had done. It was hard to deny that writing skills were important, even for a rock star. What about writing songs? What world was this person living in? I had so much to say to Rock Star that I felt like I could spontaneously combust at any moment.
“Dinner!” my mom called, and my racing head stopped. I took a deep breath and stashed the letters in my secret spot under the bed. I needed to take a step back and think about Rock Star later.
I went into the kitchen and sat down. Mom had made spaghetti and a salad. At that moment, I realized how hungry I was. I heaped up my plate, twirled a big mouthful of spaghetti on my fork, and took a bite.
“So have you started studying for your math test again?” Allie asked in a teasing voice with a smirk on her face.
I looked up at her, my mouth still full of spaghetti.
“What do you mean?” Mom asked before I could say anything.
“Apparently, some crazy computer nerd hacked into the math department’s test file and Sam’s entire grade has to take their tests over again.”
“Oh no. That’s terrible!” Mom exclaimed.
“I have a notice about it in my backpack and, anyway, nothing’s been proven,” I said, glaring at Allie, still making my way through my bite of spaghetti.
“Well, who else would have done it?” Allie gave her long blond hair a defiant flip from one side to the other and looked at me questioningly.
“It could have been anyone. You can’t make assumptions,” I said, stabbing a cucumber and waving it around for emphasis. “But the file was definitely hacked into, so that makes the test results invalid.” My shoulders slumped as I said the word “invalid.”
“I’m sorry, Sam. That must feel really frustrating,” Mom said. “You studied so hard.”
“Frustrating is one way to describe it.” I started to feel the rage build up again. Rock Star popped into my head, not that I thought Rock Star was the hacker, but Rock Star was also in that category—the cheater category. It was hard for me to believe there were people out there who were willing to lie and cheat to get what they wanted no matter who it affected.
“Well,” said Allie, “I kind of wish that would happen to my chemistry test. I would have loved another few days to study.”
“No you don’t. What a ridiculous thing to say!” I said, suddenly raising my voice.
“Allie.” Mom held up her hand. “Sam is obviously upset about this, and what happened is really awful on so many levels. It’s nothing to take lightly. Please try to be supportive.” Then she turned to me. “And, Sam, I know you’re upset about it, but there’s no reason to yell. Just take a step back. Allie’s not who you’re mad at.”
I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath. Mom was right. I wasn’t mad at Allie, but she could be so annoying sometimes.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Allie, kind of meaning it. “It’s hard, though. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be mad at. The bright side is I’m doing a story for the paper on it.”
“With lover boy?”
“Allie,” Mom said sharply. “That’s enough.”
Allie’s mouth clamped shut and she crossed her arms. I felt a twinge of satisfaction.
Mom turned back to me. “Well, that will certainly be an interesting subject. Are you going to be able to be objective about it?”
Mom had a good point. Reporters were supposed to be objective, not favoring one side or the other. How could I get to that place when I was so angry about what had happened?
“I hope so,” I said, and twirled up another bite of spaghetti.
When I was done with dinner I went into the den and called Hailey. Too much information for an IM. I needed some voice time.
“Hi,” she said, sounding out of breath when she answered the phone.
“What were you just doing? Running laps around the house?”
“Practicing handstands. Builds up your core.”
“Oh yeah, that’s what I was doing, too,” I said.
“Really?”
“Uh, no.” I have never done a handstand that didn’t end in me crashing to the floor and almost breaking my neck. “So Michael asked me on a work date this Wednesday. I don’t know if he would call it that, though.”
“I think if he asked you to come over and work, it at least qualifies as a work date. See, now that’s something positive about the math exam disaster. You have an urgent story that needs attention!”
“True,” I said, considering this.
“Who do you think did it?” she asked.
“Someone who doesn’t care about anyone else,” I blurted out. Then I remembered what my mom said. Be objective, Sam. Be objective. That was going to have to become my new mantra. “No, I don’t really mean that.”
“Yes, you do!” Hailey said. “I kind of feel that way too, but maybe it was someone who just felt desperate, felt like they had no other choice.”
An image of Will Hutchins flashed in my mind. I turned sideways in the big armchair and hung my legs over the arm. “What do you think of Will Hutchins?”
“Why? Did he do it?” Hailey asked in a hushed, excited tone.
“Oh, gosh no,” I said. The last thing I wanted to do was spread rumors like that. “I mean, I have no idea. He just had a lot to say about it in my math class and seemed weirdly sympathetic to the hacker.”
“He’s a little strange,” she said. “I’m surprised he had a lot to say. He’s in my language arts class and never says a word.”
“Yeah, I was surprised myself.”
“Well, maybe you should interview him for the paper,” Hailey
said, her voice sounding suddenly far away and breathless again.
“Another handstand?” I asked her.
“Yeah, have you on speaker,” she called out.
“You’re insane,” I said. Where did she get her energy?
“No, you are,” she said, and then I heard a crash and a yelp.
“Hailey?” I asked, panicked.
“I’m okay,” a small, faraway voice said.
After Hailey recovered and assured me she hadn’t broken anything, I told her about the morning jacket incident and then her mom told her she had to get off the phone and do her homework. I had to do mine, too.
Back in my room, I took another look at Rock Star’s letter. This time I sat on my bed in a cross-legged position and took slow breaths in and out the way Allie had showed me from a yoga class she’d taken. Reporter Turns to Yoga for the Answers. Why not? I needed all the help I could get. Even though it wasn’t my job to be objective as Know-It-All, I thought I should practice, so at least I could be levelheaded about it. I breathed in, and as I let my breath out I whispered, “Be objective.” Then I read the letter again. Maybe that’s all she or he could see, the rock star dream, and it truly felt like nothing else mattered. But then when I got to the part where it said that Rock Star wanted his or her friend to “help” out again, my blood started to boil. What you really mean, Rock Star, is that you want your friend to “help” you cheat in your language arts class again and not only risk your own standing in school but your friend’s as well. Ugh! Maybe I wasn’t as good at this objective reporter thing as I thought.
In the morning I got to school early and officially started my piece by doing some man-on-the-street interviews about the math department security breach, as it was officially being called. I had those unofficial quotes from math class the other day, but I’d have to go back and ask Mrs. Birnbaum, Will, and Sophie for permission to use them.
