by Robin Caroll
“I can’t believe that. That’s insane.”
“I’m not making it up,” Makayla frowned.
Sam snorted and nudged her bestie. “Goof, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just surprised. And shocked. Who could do that?”
“Not only who, but how did they do it.” Makayla pulled out a folded up piece of paper. “I printed out the email. Look at the time stamp of the email: 6:44 p.m.”
“I didn’t think anybody would be at the school at that time on a Tuesday afternoon. There were no games going on.”
“What about football practice?” Makayla asked as she tucked the paper back into her folder.
Sam shook her head. “Practice is over by five thirty.”
“A club meeting, perhaps?”
Again, Sam shook her head. “I was just in the office yesterday, and the club meetings were all posted. None were after school in September.”
“Maybe Mrs. Trees had something going on?”
“It wouldn’t have been anything the students were here for.” Sam looked over the cafeteria. Kids grouped together, laughing and talking. “That would mean an adult was responsible. I just don’t want to think that. I can’t.”
Makayla shrugged. “Then somebody had to break into the EAST lab.”
“It’s somebody in EAST.”
“Maybe not. Someone else could’ve broken in. The little windows at the top. Anybody with a regular ladder could get in. Mrs. Shire doesn’t keep it locked.” Makayla had EAST, too.
“True, but they wouldn’t know about the window being unlocked unless they were in the classroom. And,” Sam theorized, “it had to be somebody who has a password on the computers, right?”
Makayla nodded. “They couldn’t have gotten onto the server to email outside the school if they didn’t have one.”
“So it’s somebody in EAST. It’s the only answer that makes sense,” Sam summarized.
“How would a student have been able to break in, though? They lock the gates on the breezeways. There’s no way to get in the campus area.”
“I think there is.”
“How?”
Sam lifted her backpack to her shoulder. “Come on, let’s see.”
“We can’t leave the cafeteria. Officer Bill won’t let us.”
“Trust me, come on.” Sam gripped the strap of her backpack and headed past the stage, turned left by the soda machine, and up the stairs toward the media center. Just before the door to the media center, she turned right and went through the glass doors leading out to the blacktop and band room.
“We aren’t supposed to be out here,” Makayla whispered, but she followed anyway.
Ignoring her best friend, Sam walked to the right around the music room and up the hill toward the new baseball diamond.
“Sam,” Makayla hissed.
“Come on.” Sam stood at the front of the baseball diamond. She shielded her eyes from the morning sun. “Look, there.” She pointed through the trees behind the diamond. “What’s that?”
Makayla stepped beside her and looked where she pointed. “Is that a pole?”
Sam nodded. “I think it’s a white pole, which means there’s something right on the other side of those trees.”
“There’s probably a fence, though.”
“I don’t see a fence.”
“It’s probably on the other side, Sam.”
“Let’s go see.” Sam took three steps along the side of the diamond.
“Hey! You two,” Officer Bill hollered out from beside the outdoor basketball goal posts. “You aren’t supposed to be out here. Come on down right now.”
“I told you,” Makayla said as she stomped beside Sam. “Now we’re going to get in trouble.”
“No we aren’t. Just let me talk to him.” Sam led the way to the security officer.
“Sam Sanderson, I should have known.” Officer Bill shook his head. “What were you doing up at the baseball diamond?”
“Do you know what that white pole behind the trees is from?” Sam asked him. If they could identify the pole, then maybe she could figure out where to look on the other side to see if there was a way to get onto school property from there.
He looked in the direction of the trees. “Can’t say I ever saw it. What were you doing up there?”
Sam shrugged. “Research for my next article.” She forged on ahead. “Do you know if there are fences back there behind the tree line?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Principal Trees?” Officer Bill motioned them toward the ramp. “The bell’s about to ring. You two stay out of trouble.”
“Thanks, Officer Bill.” Sam smiled at him, then linked her arm through Makayla’s and headed toward their lockers.
Brring!
The breezeway flooded with kids.
“That was close,” Makayla said.
Sam wrinkled her nose. “Nah, I knew Officer Bill wouldn’t report us. He’s cool like that. We aren’t the troublemakers.”
“It was close enough for me. Speaking of troublemakers, I didn’t get a chance to tell you who Mrs. Trees pulled out of the cafeteria before you got here.” Makayla stopped in front of her locker that was right next to Sam’s.
“Who?” Sam opened her lock.
“Felicia Adams.”
“What did Mrs. Trees want?” Sam hung her backpack on the hook, then pulled out her English and Math binders.
“I was close enough to overhear Mrs. Trees say something about Felicia destroying some of the homecoming court campaign posters.”
Sam shut her locker and leaned against it. “I wonder if any of them were Nikki’s.”
Makayla shrugged and shut her locker. “Dunno.” She pulled Sam out of the way of the other kids. “We have to talk about the email coming from EAST lab. We have to tell somebody.”
“I’ll let Nikki know. Maybe that will push her to tell her parents.”
“Should we tell Mrs. Trees?” Makayla caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Nikki will never let us do that.” A good reporter never revealed her sources. Even if the source was the victim. “We can’t tell anyone without her permission.”
“But it’s illegal. Not just bullying, which that email most certainly is, but using school property to send it. I’m sure that’s even more illegal.”
“We don’t have any proof.”
“I’m positive, Sam.”
“You’d be okay with explaining your tracking it down or whatever?” Sam put a hand on her hip. Makayla hated drawing attention to her epic computer skills. Especially if it meant getting called into the principal’s office. It would be even worse now that her mom seemed to be the alpha mom of overboard parental involvement. “I mean, Mrs. Trees would probably have to call your mom in for a conference. Not that you did anything wrong but to just go over details.”
Makayla narrowed her eyes and jabbed Sam in the arm. “Sam Sanderson, are you trying to manipulate me?”
Heat flamed in Sam’s cheeks. “Is it working?”
Laughing, Makayla shook her head. “You’re incorrigible, but, yeah, it is kind of working.”
“Listen, let me see if I can get confirmation from another source about a computer in EAST lab being used to send Nikki that email. I’ll take it to Nikki and try and, uh, manipulate her into letting me at least tell Mrs. Trees.”
The bell sounded, causing kids to slam their lockers and run to class. Everyone not in class in three minutes would be considered tardy and would have to report to the office to get a pass. An unexcused one. That would give Sam demerits in cheer.
“Okay?” Sam hugged her binders to her chest.
“We’ll talk in third period,” Makayla replied, rushing to her class on a different ramp.
Sam ran to the seventh grade ramp, the one at the back of the school. As she turned to go into English, she glanced over at the pathway to the baseball diamond. She’d figure out what that pole on the other side of the trees was. And if there was a fence or any barrier betwe
en the school and whatever that was. She stepped into the classroom.
Brring!
“Nikki, we have to tell someone. Whoever sent you that email broke into the EAST lab last night to send it.” Sam sat on the edge of one of the tables in the newsroom.
“It doesn’t matter where anybody sent it from.” Nikki glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was close enough to hear their conversation.
Or was she looking to see if Aubrey watched? Sam let her legs dangle. Now that she thought about it, she could do some digging and see who all had solid alibis for last night during the time the email was sent.
“I don’t want you to tell anybody. My mom and dad think it will die down. Whoever it is will move on to tormenting someone else if I just don’t react.”
“Do you really think it’s okay to let someone else go through what you’re dealing with?” Sam shook her head. “I won’t use your name, Nikki. I would never, not without permission.”
Nikki glanced toward the editor’s desk where Aubrey and Ms. Pape carried on a deep discussion. “I don’t want anyone to know it’s me. I mean it. No one can know.”
“I understand.” Sam stared at Aubrey, too. “I’m curious if Aubrey called you last night or anything.”
Nikki shook her head. “She still hasn’t talked to me. I mean, she says hey and stands beside me at our lockers and sits with me at lunch and stuff, but she doesn’t really talk to me.”
Some best friend! It made Sam so mad. What was wrong with Aubrey? What kind of person acted like that?
Sam mentally flipped through the names of everyone she thought could be the bully. “Have you seen Billy Costiff lately?”
Nikki glanced around. “He hasn’t said anything since, well, in a while, and he’s not supposed to follow me anymore . . .”
“But?”
“But I turn corners, and there he is. Only he isn’t smiling at me like before.”
“What’s he doing now?”
“Glaring at me. Throwing mean looks my way.” Nikki shuddered. “I know what they mean now when they say if looks could kill. It’s creepy.”
Could his adoration have turned into hatred? Did he hate her now? Enough to send her mean notes, emails, and texts and shove diet bars into her locker?
Where was he last night at 6:44?
“Do you know if he takes EAST?”
Nikki’s expression went slack. “Do you think Billy is the bully?”
Sam shrugged. “I’m not ruling anyone out at this point.”
“It can’t be him. I had to report him for practically stalking me because he had a crush on me.”
“And that made him mad, right? You just told me he’s been giving you the stink eye.”
“But mad enough to be so cruel?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe he thought you were cruel to reject his attention.”
Nikki swallowed loudly. “I didn’t think of it that way. His following me around had just gotten to the point where it was a little scary.”
“Oh, I’m not saying reporting him was wrong — I totally think you did the right thing. I’m just saying in his mind, he might have thought you two were going to be together and when he was told to back off, it hurt his feelings and made him angry.”
“So what do I do?” Nikki stared at the classroom door as if Billy would bust through any moment and torment her.
“Nothing. I’ll try to find out if he even takes EAST.”
“Thanks, Sam. It means a lot that you’re helping me.” Nikki turned to look at the editor’s desk.
Ms. Pape was gone. Aubrey stood with her clipboard against her chest, staring at Nikki and Sam.
She did not look happy.
“I need to go.” Nikki headed toward Aubrey, then glanced over her shoulder. “Remember, Sam, don’t you dare let anyone know about me.”
Sam would do her best to keep Nikki’s identity a secret because that’s what responsible reporters did. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t poke around.
And write an article that would hopefully make the bully nervous enough to make a mistake.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
. . . It’s appalling to think someone would use school property to bully someone else. How low can you get?
What do YOU think? Do you think if a student uses a school computer to commit a form of cyber-bullying, they should be expelled? Sound off, Senators. Leave a comment with your thoughts. ~ Sam Sanderson, reporting
“I can not believe you wrote an article about this without reporting it.” Ms. Pape walked quickly alongside Sam on their way to Mrs. Trees’ office.
Thunder rumbled on the dark Thursday morning. Drought-like conditions had settled over Little Rock for weeks, and today of all days, severe weather was forecasted. Of course. Made perfect sense to Sam. Storms seemed to rain on her whenever she was on the edge of uncovering a great story.
“Mrs. Trees called me while she was driving. She’s furious. I don’t blame her, Sam. You went too far on this one. When it has to do with misuse of school property, you should never write about that until you’ve reported it to the office.” Ms. Pape opened the back door to the office and led Sam inside.
Even the air conditioner was silent as they headed to the principal’s office.
“Ms. Pape, I don’t have any documented proof.”
She spun to face Sam. “Then you shouldn’t have written it. That shows sloppy reporting. I’m beyond disappointed in you.”
“I know it’s true.”
“Then you do have proof?”
Sam nodded. “Just not that I can share.”
Ms. Pape gritted her teeth and shook her head. She pointed at the chair in front of Mrs. Trees’ desk. “Sit right there. I’ll be back.” She left, shutting the door behind her.
Sam couldn’t sit. Every muscle in her body felt like doing jumping jacks. She paced in front of the principal’s desk.
Mrs. Trees’ computer monitor was off center, so Sam could see the tabs she had open. She leaned a little closer to read. One of the open ones was titled Media Center passcodes and another one was EAST class rosters. Sam glanced at the closed office door. The principal had to know the only two areas where students could access the Internet were the media center and EAST.
Sam held her breath, chewing her bottom lip. Dare she?
She cracked open the office door just a hair and peeked outside. Nobody was around. She shut the door as quietly as she could.
Yes, it was wrong to break into the principal’s computer, but the tab was already open. That wasn’t really breaking into anything if it was already right there, right? Just sitting there, begging to be looked at.
She looked at the door again. If she did this, she needed to do it now. She’d be in serious trouble if she got caught.
This is wrong.
Funny how her conscience sounded like Makayla’s voice.
It was now or never!
Sam leaned over the desk and grabbed the mouse. She brought the EAST class rosters tab full screen. She glanced over her shoulder to the door, then back to the page. She began scrolling, looking for names of her possible suspects.
Billy Costiff was in the EAST lab for first period.
Felicia Adams took EAST in third period.
Sam heard voices in the hall. She only had one more name to check. She scrolled down. Yes! Melanie Olson had EAST for fifth period.
Footsteps in the hall.
What about Aubrey? Sam didn’t talk to her enough to know if she took EAST or not. She scrolled back up the list.
“Where is Ms. Pape?” Mrs. Trees’ voice was muffled, but Sam could tell the principal was just out in the hall on the other side of the door.
Aubrey was in EAST!
She reduced the tab down to the bottom of the screen, returned the mouse to its pad, then straightened.
“Sit down, Samantha.” Mrs. Trees marched into her office with Ms. Pape on her heels.
Sam sat, pushing as far back into the chair as she could. She curled
her hands into balls on her lap.
Mrs. Trees sat down, dug her elbows into the desk, and laced her fingers. “I’m very disappointed in you.”
“I’m sorry.” Sam swallowed. Again. Could they hear her heart pounding? As hard as it beat against her chest, they had to.
“You imply in your article that a student used school property — a computer — to perpetrate an illegal act. Is that what you meant to do?”
Sam nodded.
“You must have proof of this, correct? With your mother being who she is, surely you’re a responsible enough reporter that you would verify such a fact.”
This was going to be ugly. Sam nodded. Slowly. Deliberately.
“What, exactly, is this proof?” Mrs. Trees spoke through white-lined lips. “Why don’t you tell me how you came to learn this?” She was really going to hate where this would end.
So would Sam, probably. “Someone received an email that contained information that would definitely fall under the definition of bullying.” She’d checked on that last night using an Arkansas legal website.
“Who received the email?” Ms. Pape asked.
“I can’t tell you.” Sam tightened her fists until her nails dug into her palms.
“But you saw it? Yourself?” Mrs. Trees asked.
Sam nodded, slowly. Were they trying to trip her up?
“I see.” Mrs. Trees dropped her hands to the desk and grabbed a pen. She pressed the end. Click! “How do you know the email originated from the school?”
Click! Click!
Sam licked her lips. “A source was able to trace the IP address back to the school.”
“Where at the school? The front desk? The media center? My office?” Mrs. Trees waved her pen at her monitor.
Click! Click! Click!
Guilty heat crept up the back of Sam’s neck. “According to the trace, the email originated from one of the computers in the EAST lab.”
Click!
“And you have proof of this trace?”
Sam nodded.
Click! Click!
“I’d like to see that, please.”
“I can’t.”
The pen hit the desk. “Excuse me?”
Sam’s leg muscles bunched. “I can’t reveal my sources.”
The principal’s eyes narrowed into little slits under her drawn-on eyebrows.
