Rachel Takes the Lead

by Marilyn Kaye

  But she isn’t a very nice person. I’ve heard her say pretty mean things to people. Alyssa told me that once, when Paige came into a classroom and saw Alyssa sitting at her desk, she accused Alyssa of spreading cooties.

  There were just a few seconds before the final bell. Paige left her group and started walking in my direction. This made me nervous.

  She paused by my desk and spoke loudly.

  “I saw you coming to school,” she said. “Was that your mother walking with you?”

  Keeping my eyes fixed on my desk, I nodded. So much for going unnoticed this morning. Sometimes I wish I was really, truly invisible.

  “I’m just curious,” Paige continued. “Does she hold your hand when you cross a street?”

  I heard a few giggles, and I could feel my face getting warm. Then the bell rang, Paige went to her seat, and Mr. Greene came in.

  “Good morning, everyone,” he said. He opened a notebook on his desk and started calling roll.

  I could feel my face growing hotter, and I knew it had to be turning red. Since I don’t think much of Paige, I don’t care what she thinks of me. But she’s one of the most popular girls here, which means other kids pay attention to what she says. Would this mean the start of bullying for me?

  “Rachel? Rachel Levin-Lopez?”

  I looked up, startled. “Y-yes?”

  “I’m only taking attendance,” Mr. Greene said.

  “Oh! Sorry. Here.”

  Behind me, I heard Paige whispering to the girl sitting next to her, and then the girl giggled. Mr. Greene glanced sternly at them and continued down the class list. When he finished, there was the sound of three short bells, and then the voice of the principal’s secretary, Ms. Simpson, came over the intercom. We heard the same words we hear every morning.

  “May I have your attention for the morning announcements?”

  Since it isn’t a two-way system, we can’t respond, and I’ve always found it strange that she presents this in the form of a question. It’s not like we have any choice in the matter. Why not just say something like “Please give me your attention for the morning announcements”? I made a mental note to share my observation with my friends later.

  Her unanswered question was followed by the principal’s booming voice.

  “Happy Monday, students,” Mr. Lowell said. “Just a few reminders for you this morning. Tryouts for the Drama Club’s spring play will be held immediately after school today and tomorrow in the auditorium. The Science Club will be meeting in room four twelve. Sixth graders, don’t forget to bring in your signed permission slips for Friday’s class trip to the Lakeside Historical Society. And seventh graders, as you may already know, your student representative, Parker Friedman, recently moved from Lakeside. You will need to elect a new representative. If you’re interested or you want to nominate a classmate, please submit names to Ms. Simpson in the office by the end of the school day tomorrow.

  “Thank you for your attention.”

  There was nothing in the announcements to interest me. I’m not in any clubs, I would never try out for a play, and I don’t even know what a student representative is.

  It turned out that I wasn’t the only one. Someone in the back of the room raised his hand, a guy who I remembered had started at Lakeside in November.

  Mr. Greene nodded. “Yes, David?”

  “What’s a student representative?” David asked. “I didn’t know we had one.”

  Another classmate responded. “That’s because Parker never did anything.”

  Mr. Greene frowned at the kid for speaking without raising his hand first, but then he answered David.

  “In September, each grade elects a student representative who attends certain meetings with Mr. Lowell and some faculty members and acts as a link between the students, the teachers, and the administration throughout the school year. The representative can make suggestions and recommendations for changes, improvements, that sort of thing.”

  David raised his hand again, and Mr. Greene nodded again.

  “What kind of recommendations did Parker make?”

  “I’m not on that committee, so I only know what I’ve heard from other teachers,” Mr. Greene replied. “Let me think.” He cocked his head sidewise and his brow furrowed as he considered the question. “Hmm… well, the only thing I remember was a suggestion that the teachers assign less homework.”

  “Then what happened?” David asked.

  “As I recall, nothing came of it.”

  “Did any of the other grade representatives make suggestions?”

  Mr. Greene hesitated. “Hmm… yes, I heard that the eighth-grade rep asked for longer lunch periods.”

  “Is that going to happen?” David asked.

  “Probably not.”

  David frowned. “Then what’s the point of having student representatives?”

  Just then, the bell rang. And Mr. Greene looked relieved.

  ENGLISH IS MY FAVORITE CLASS AND MS. Gonzalez is my favorite teacher, so I look forward to third period. Plus, it’s the only class that Ellie, Alyssa, Kiara, and I have together. As usual, I hurried to get there early so we could have a minute or two to talk before we had to be inside the room. And while it was still on my mind, I wanted to share my thoughts about Ms. Simpson’s morning announcements question.

  The three of them were just gathering outside the door when I arrived, and right away I noticed Ellie’s glum expression. So instead of bringing up Ms. Simpson, the first thing out of my mouth was “What’s wrong, Ellie?”

  Ellie let out a groan. “I was twenty minutes late for school and I had to report to Mr. Lowell’s office,” she said. “So now I’ve got detention.”

  Kiara frowned in the way she always does when anyone says anything that she thinks doesn’t make sense. “You know how long it takes you to walk to school. And you wear a watch. So why were you late?”

  “I went up to the turret to take a quick look through the spyglass.”

  “See anything?” Alyssa asked.

  Just then I spotted Ms. Gonzalez hurrying down the hall, which meant the bell was about to ring. We’d have to wait till lunch to hear what Ellie saw. And for me to bring up Ms. Simpson.

  I realized that since Ellie had detention, she’d be staying after school and we wouldn’t have a spyglass session. I was disappointed. We hadn’t had any interesting visions lately, and I’d been hoping this could be the day that would end the dry spell.

  After taking roll, Ms. Gonzalez glanced at her planner and called on Aiden Panchuk.

  “Your turn to kick off our book discussion today, Aiden. Are you prepared to give your free-choice oral report?”

  “Yep.” Aiden came to the front of the room and opened his notebook. “My report is on The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis.”

  Of course, I would never say this out loud in class, but I’d read that book ages and ages ago, along with the entire Narnia series, so I knew what was coming. Aiden started off by summarizing the story, about four children who go to live in the English countryside during World War II. Behind the doors of an enormous wardrobe, they find a land called Narnia. This magical place has been enchanted by the evil White Witch, so Narnia is in a perpetual winter. One of the children, Edmund, has an encounter with the White Witch, who gives him candy, and he doesn’t tell his siblings about this. Not warning them has consequences, and the kids fall into a dangerous situation.

  Since Ms. Gonzalez is into lots of discussion, we were allowed to ask questions or offer comments even during the reports. Dana, a girl in the front of the room, raised her hand.

  “He lied to his own brother and sisters?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t really a lie,” Aiden said. “He just didn’t tell them about what happened to him.”

  “That’s still a lie,” Dana insisted. She turned to Ms. Gonzalez. “Isn’t it?”

  “That’s an interesting question,” Ms. Gonzalez said. “I think we could say that this was a lie of omiss
ion.”

  I wasn’t sure what that meant and it seemed others didn’t know either, because a lot of people looked puzzled and Ms. Gonzalez noticed this. She explained.

  “A lie of omission happens when someone leaves out information and thus hides the truth, or when someone doesn’t include a fact because the person they’re giving information to wouldn’t like it. Let me think of an example.” She paused for a moment and then went on.

  “Let’s say you’re in the market for a laptop. The salesperson shows you one and tells you it’s a very good product with many advantages. He tells you it’s easy to use, and the screen has excellent resolution, and it’s even on sale. And this is all true. But he doesn’t tell you that this particular brand of laptop has an unusually short battery life.”

  “What if you ask him about the battery life and he tells you it’s good?” Aiden asked.

  “Then he’s lying,” Ms. Gonzalez replied. “But if you didn’t ask, and he doesn’t offer the information, then it’s a lie of omission. He didn’t mention it because he wants you to buy the laptop.”

  I nodded to show that I understood, and so did some of my classmates.

  “Can anyone else offer an example?” Mrs. Gonzalez asked.

  Another hand shot up.

  “Alberto?”

  “This actually happened to me last summer! I was supposed to go on a picnic with some friends. One of them said he would check the forecast, and he told us it would be a warm day. But he didn’t tell us it was supposed to rain.”

  “Why did he do that?” someone asked.

  “Because he’d gotten grounded and he couldn’t go. So he was in a bad mood and he wanted the picnic to be ruined for the rest of us!”

  “Nice friend,” I heard Alyssa mutter.

  Ellie offered an example too. “I was shopping with my mother, and she tried on a dress. She asked me if I thought the dress was pretty and if it was a nice color on her. I told her it was definitely pretty and a good color for her. But I didn’t tell her it looked too tight in the back.”

  “And why didn’t you tell her this?” Ms. Gonzalez asked.

  “She didn’t ask me if it looked tight, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

  Ms. Gonzalez looked pleased. “These are all good examples, and you can see that people tell lies of omission for many different reasons. To be kind, to be mean, to get out of doing or saying something. And in Edmund’s case, he didn’t tell the others about the witch because he wanted more candy!”

  Now everyone was nodding, and Ms. Gonzalez indicated to Aiden that he could continue his report. I wasn’t really listening, though. The discussion had given me an idea, and I was thinking about what it could mean for me.

  After English, I had pre-algebra, and I couldn’t daydream in there. But when the bell rang it was lunchtime, and I knew that could be an opportunity to talk about my new idea with my friends.

  By now, we’ve developed a routine. I’m always the first at the table, since I bring my lunch from home. Mami prepares my lunches for the next day every evening. Like Mom, she’s into healthy eating, but she also enjoys eating good food. So my lunches are organic and nutritious. And usually delicious.

  The other girls had to stand in line to get their school lunch trays, and I waited to open my brown bag till they’d all arrived. Today, I had a cold whole-wheat noodle and tuna salad, and they all looked at it longingly. I offered them bites. In return, they offered me bits of the brownies they had on their school lunch trays. They know I love chocolate.

  Once everyone was settled and eating, I was all set to bring up my ideas. But before I could get a word out, Kiara turned to Ellie and asked, “So? Did you see anything interesting in the spyglass this morning?”

  “Nothing worth getting detention for,” Ellie said. “At first, I thought there was something that might be weird—about eight dogs in a circle around a tree, and I thought they might start doing strange stuff, like climbing the tree or dancing. But then this man came out from behind the tree, and I realized the dogs were with him. He was just one of those professional dog walkers.”

  Alyssa looked even more glum than usual. “So you didn’t see anything special, and we won’t be seeing anything at all today. Not if you’ve got detention.”

  Ellie shook her head. “The detention session is tomorrow. Apparently Mr. Lowell orders it a day in advance, so students can tell their parents they won’t be home at the usual time.”

  That made sense to me. “So they won’t worry.”

  “And so the parents know their kid screwed up and they can inflict their own form of punishment,” Ellie said with a sigh.

  Alyssa considered this. “But most parents work outside the home, so they probably wouldn’t even notice if their kid came home late.”

  “Maybe some parents call from their jobs to make sure their kids get home—” I started, but Alyssa immediately shook her head, rejecting the comment before I could even finish it.

  “Not at my house,” she said. “There are four of us, and we all get home at different times. Besides, my mother might be operating on someone, and my stepfather could be inspecting a building site. He wouldn’t even notice the time. I could get detention and they’d never find out.” She turned to Kiara. “Does your father call to see if you got home okay?”

  Kiara shook her head. “We have a housekeeper. If I didn’t come home on time, she’d call him.”

  I looked at Ellie. “Your father’s law office is in your house, so he’d notice if you weren’t home on time, right?”

  “Maybe,” Ellie replied. “But lots of times, with his door shut, he doesn’t hear me come in. He could be on the phone or with a client. And sometimes he has meetings outside his office.”

  Then her eyebrows shot up, as if she’d just had a great idea.

  “Actually, my parents might not even have to know that I got detention.”

  “You won’t tell them?” Kiara asked. “You’d lie to them?”

  Ellie considered this. “Not exactly. If they notice I’m not home at my usual time, and if they ask me why I’m late, I’ll have to tell them. But if they don’t notice and they don’t ask…”

  Alyssa finished the sentence. “It’s a lie of omission!”

  Ellie nodded happily. “Exactly!”

  Kiara nodded too. “Yes. I think Ms. Gonzalez would call that an appropriate example.” Then she cocked her head and looked thoughtful.

  “What?” Ellie asked.

  “I’m just remembering when I made a lie of omission.”

  “About what?” I asked.

  “Back in elementary school, a couple of girls in my class called me names and it really bothered me. But when my father would ask ‘How’s school?’ I always said ‘Okay.’ I didn’t tell him about the bullying.”

  “Why not?” Alyssa asked.

  “I guess because I didn’t want him to go see the teacher or the principal and have an altercation.”

  “A what?” Alyssa asked.

  Kiara searched what she called her mental thesaurus for a word we’d understand. “A fuss. Anyway, maybe the girls would have been punished if I’d told the truth, but then they’d have been even meaner to me.”

  This made sense to me. I’d probably do the same thing if I was bullied. A lie of omission… it was definitely a very interesting concept. Which reminded me, this was the perfect time for me to bring up my own “lie of omission” idea. And while I was at it, I also remembered that I’d wanted to bring up Ms. Simpson always asking if she could have our attention when we couldn’t even respond.

  I took a deep breath. “Hey, I was thinking…,” I began, but as I did, I realized that everyone had turned away from me and no one was listening. They were all looking in the same direction.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Paige,” Ellie replied. “Watch, she’s going from table to table.” She frowned. “Now she’s at Mike’s table.”

  Even though of course it isn’t a rule,
at lunchtime guys usually sit with guys and girls sit with girls. Mike Twersky, Ellie’s sort-of-maybe-someday boyfriend, always sits with the same group of popular boys at the other end of our row of tables. And just as Ellie said, Paige was standing by their table, talking and smiling and tossing her head so her glossy black hair danced on her shoulders.

  “Flirting,” Ellie said, and her eyes narrowed.

  “What’s she saying?” Alyssa asked.

  We soon found out. A moment later Paige had arrived at our table. This time, she didn’t smile or toss her hair, she got right to the point.

  “I’m running for seventh-grade student representative,” she announced. “Vote for me.”

  She made it a demand, not even a request, and moved on quickly to the next table.

  “What do student representatives do, anyway?” Alyssa asked.

  I remembered the conversation from my homeroom that morning. Finally, an opportunity to speak! “They’re supposed to make suggestions to the teachers and the administration to improve the school and make it better for students,” I told them.

  “Huh. I wonder what kind of suggestions Paige would make,” Ellie said.

  I didn’t have a clue. We ate in silence for a moment while we all considered the question. Alyssa came up with a possibility just as the bell rang to signal the end of lunch.

  “Hairbands. Every girl at East Lakeside Middle School will have to wear a hairband that matches her clothes.”

  We all nodded. That was exactly the kind of brilliant idea Paige would offer.

  SO I NEVER GOT TO TALKING ABOUT MS. Simpson, or my “lie of omission” idea, at lunch, and I was a little disappointed in myself. It would have been a good opportunity for me to work on bringing things up with my friends instead of always waiting for them to start the conversation. And there wasn’t an ideal moment to do this with all of them now, on the walk from school to Ellie’s house. Ellie and Alyssa always walk together and talk, while Kiara and I, with shorter legs and quieter personalities, trail behind.

  Then I realized, I could make an effort with Kiara. Kiara isn’t big on starting discussions either, so with only her by my side, maybe this was a chance to bring up a subject—for me to practice saying what was on my mind, just with a smaller audience. I shifted my backpack a few times before I finally spoke.