Cheat
Cheat
Kristin Butcher
o
rca
currents
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
Copyright ©
2010
Kristin Butcher
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Butcher, Kristin
Cheat / written by Kristin Butcher.
(Orca currents)
Electronic Monograph
Issued also in print format.
ISBN
9781554692767
(pdf)
--
ISBN
9781554694655
(epub)
I. Title. II. Series: Orca currents
PS8553.U6972C44 2010 JC813'.54 C2010-903579-8
First published in the United States,
2010
Library of Congress Control Number:
2010929086
Summary:
Laurel investigates a cheating scam at her high school.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Cover design by Teresa Bubela
Cover photography by Getty Images
In Canada:
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 5626, Station B
Victoria, BC Canada
V8R 6S4
In the United States:
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 468
Custer, WA USA
98240-0468
13 12 11 10 â¢Â 4 3 2 1
For Britany, who gave gave
me the bones of the story.
Table of Contents
“
The homeless man claimed he had been
sleeping in the school furnace room for
over three months. âThe weekends were
the best,' he said. âThere weren't no one in
the schoolânot even janitors. I even took
myself a shower in the boys' change room a
time or two. Slept like a top those nights.'
”
Tara popped a grape into her mouth and continued reading.
“
The man had used a ground-level
vent to get into the building. Every night
after dark, he removed the covering,
lowered himself into the school basement
and then pulled the vent back into
place behind him. His hiding spot was
discovered by accident. The vent cover
fell off last week, attracting a curious
skunk that decided to take a stroll
through the school. When students and
teachers started screaming and running
for cover, the skunk took off back the
way it had come. It was the custodian
following behind who discovered the
homeless man's makeshift bed behind
the furnace. Police were called in, and
the man was apprehended when he
entered the building later that night.
The skunk made a clean getaway.
”
Tara lowered the newspaper. “Well, good for the skunk. I feel bad for the guy though. He wasn't hurting anybody. He just wanted a place to sleep.”
I waved my fingers at the newspaper. “Keep reading.”
“
The school board hasn't pressed
charges. In fact, school trustee Norma
Swanson took the story to a city council
meeting. She urged members to look into
the matter. âIf there aren't sufficient shelters
and soup kitchens to address the needs of
this community's less fortunate, something
needs to be done,' she told councilors.
”
“Let's hope Ms. Swanson's voice was heard.” Tara put down the paper, ate another grape and looked at me wide-eyed. “Good story, Laurel!”
“You seem surprised,” I said. I wasn't ready for
The New York Times
, but I was capable of stringing a few sentences together.
“I am.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Well, not that you can write a good story,” she backtracked. “It's just that this is way different from your usual stuff.”
I sighed. “I know. Compared to reports on school dances and who's getting cosy with who, this story is definitely more meaningful.”
“Exactly,” Tara agreed. “It's important. It's news!”
“Right,” I smiled. “Thanks, Tara.”
“You're welcome, butâ” She frowned. “Where did you get it? I mean how'd you find out about it? I knew about the skunk, but not the homeless guy.”
I clucked my tongue and tried to look shocked. “Surely you don't expect me to reveal my sources?”
“Uh, yeah,” said Tara. “I do.”
I shrugged. “It was a combination of luck and eavesdropping. The day after the skunk incident, Miss Benson sent me to the office to get paper clips. The secretary wasn't there. While I was waiting for her to come back, I heard Mr. Wiens talking to some woman in his office. The door was wide-open, so the conversation was hard to miss.”
“What were they talking about?”
“The homeless man. Mr. Wiens was telling the woman how he felt bad about kicking the guy out, because he had nowhere else to go.”
“Who was the woman?” Tara asked.
“I'm getting there,” I said. “Just listen.
The woman said she would raise the issue at the next city council meeting.”
Tara chewed on her lip.
“Ahâ¦,” she said. “I bet she's a trustee.”
“Right.” I nodded. “So anyway, after that I found out when the next city council meeting was, and I went. I had to sit for over an hour listening to half the city complain about streetlights and speed bumps before it was Ms. Swanson's turn. Talk about boring.”
“Wow. You really did chase down this story. But how did you know about the guy showering in the boys' change room?” she asked. “Laurel Quinn, you didn't make that stuff up, did you?”
This time I was shocked for real. “Of course I didn't! After school I just hung around for a couple of hours. I thought maybe the guy would come back.”
“And did he?”
I nodded. “He didn't try to get in, but he did come back. At first I wasn't sure it was him. But how many scruffy-looking guys stand outside a school for ten minutes staring at a vent? It had to be the squatter. So I went to talk to him.”
“Weren't you scared?” Tara said.
“I mean he could have attacked you or something.”
“Ooh, I never even thought of that.
Nothing happened though. The guy was actually pretty nice. He answered all my questions. All I had with me was five dollars, but I gave it to him. Hopefully he got something hot to eat. He sure needed it. He looked cold, and he was skinny as anything.”
Tara straightened in her chair. “I guess you are a reporter. But isn't it going to kill to go back to writing about volleyball games and school debates?”
The bell rang, so I didn't have a chance to answer. I was definitely thinking about what Tara had said though. Reporting on normal school activities would be pretty tame now that I'd had a taste of real journalism.
The paper had just come out at lunch, but it seemed like everyone had read my article by the time we went back to class. Walking to my locker was like strolling the red carpet. Every few steps, somebody would congratulate meâeven kids I didn't know.
“Great story, Laurel.”
“Super article.”
“Good stuff.”
I couldn't quit smiling. People had read my article and liked it. Even Jack complimented me on the story.
I thought I was seeing things. We might be brother and sister, but at school Jack barely acknowledges I exist. But there he was leaning on my locker door and grinning at me.
“Nice work, sis.” He bopped my head with the rolled-up newspaper. “Good story. I liked the human-interest angle.
Clever.”
“Thanks,” I said. Then, because it just wouldn't be normal if I didn't give him a hard time, I added, “Who knew you could read?”
He shot me a sour look. “Funny. Do you think half the colleges in the States would be recruiting me if I wasn't a brain?”
I rolled my eyes. “They don't care if you even
have
a brain, just as long as you can shoot a basketball. Let me guessâyou saw the article Dean wrote about you.” I snatched the newspaper from his hand and unrolled it. “Aha! I knew it.” I smacked the page with the back of my hand. Then I read the headline.
Barton High Senior
Destined for Greatness
. I clucked my tongue. “Don't believe everything you read, brother dearest. Dean tends to exaggerate.”
“What are you talking about?” Jack frowned and grabbed the paper back. “Everything in here is true. I
am
being recruited by a half-dozen NCAA colleges. They've all offered me a free ride. Arizona, Oregon, Washington, OklahomaâI just have to decide which one deserves me.”
I rolled my eyes again. “Believe meânone of them deserves you. But by the time they realize it, it will be too late. You'll already be there.”
“Was that a shot?”
“If you can't tell, I rest my case.” I gave him a shove. “Now get out of here before someone sees us and figures out we're related. I don't want you wrecking my reputation.”
He snorted and swaggered away.
Though he's a tough act to follow, I am proud of my brother. I would never tell him that to his face, but it's true. He is really smart. He gets almost straight As, and of course he's an amazing basketball player. Everybody likes him, including just about every girl in school.
So it is my duty to razz him whenever I can. Otherwise, he'd have such a swelled head, he'd have to find T-shirts with zippers.
At that moment, though, I was the one with the swelled head. I'd written an article that actually mattered, and people were reading it. That was pretty cool, considering the only reason I joined the newspaper was to do something Jack hadn't.
It's tough carving out a corner for yourself when you're related to a school legend. Almost anything I thought about trying, Jack had already doneâin champion style. But now, after months of meaningless articles about nothing, I'd made a breakthrough. I was so pumped, my feet weren't touching the ground. I floated through the afternoon.
Mom's car wasn't in the driveway when I got home, but the front door was unlocked. That could mean only one thingâJack had beat me home. I should say Jack
and Sean
had beat me home. Sean Leger doesn't actually live with us, but he and Jack have been best buds forever. If they're not playing basketball, they're sprawled in front of the television in our family room. I swear Sean spends more time at our house than he does at his own.
The two of them were all wrapped up in an air-hockey game, so they didn't see me come in. I could have walked off with the furniture, and they wouldn't have noticed.
“Where's Mom?” I shouted over their hooting and hollering.
“Drugstore,” Jack yelled back as he made a shot. “He shoots, he scores!”
He threw up his arms and did a victory dance.
Sean shook his head in disgust.
“You got horseshoes up your butt, man.”
Jack laughed as he flopped on the couch. “It's skills, pal. Skills. Eat your heart out.”
Sean scratched his stomach. “Speaking of eating, whatcha got to chow on?” He headed for the fridge, messing my hair on the way by.
“Bug off,” I said, giving him a hip check.
He grinned. “Is that any way for a big reporter to talk?”
“Yeah, right,” I mumbled, trying not to smile.
“No, seriously. That was a good article,” he said. “I liked it.”
“Next stop,
The Globe and Mail
,” Jack teased. “I almost forgotâthere's a message for you. Not
The Globe and
Mail
, but some guy from the
Islander
.”
“Nice try,” I retorted. I know my brother. There was no way I was going to let him suck me in.
“Really. I'm not kidding,” Jack insisted, picking up the phone and punching in the message code. He held it out to me. “Listen for yourself.”
I still didn't believe him, but I took the phone. I was all set to hear a dial tone, but there really was a message from someone at the
Islander
. The editor. He said his daughter was a Barton High student and had brought the paper home at lunch. He'd read my story and wanted to talk to me about it.