Cheat (7 page)

Chapter One

Back in elementary school, assemblies meant sitting on the floor. In high school things are different. Because we're older now, we sit in actual chairs—at least that's the theory. If you're one of the first people into the gym, the system works fine. But I always arrive after every seat's been taken. If there's not a person sitting in it, it's being saved for someone. Basically, it's a school-wide version of musical chairs, and I've always sucked at that game.

Take Friday's assembly. The gym was packed as usual, but for once it looked like I was going to get lucky. There was an empty seat at the end of the third row. I would have preferred something a little farther back, but it was that or nothing. So I grabbed it.

Unfortunately Janice saw me and started waving from the middle of the row. I wanted to pretend I didn't see her, but I knew if I did she'd unleash that bullhorn voice of hers, and in two seconds I'd have every kid in school staring at me. So I bumped my way through the line of knees separating us and shriveled into the seat beside her.

“What class are you missing?” Whispering wasn't a skill Janice had ever learned, and, even though everyone around us was talking, her voice drowned them out.

“Math,” I said, shrinking a little deeper into my chair. I intentionally avoided asking her what she was missing, but that didn't stop Janice.

“It's biology for me.
Thank God
! If I had to miss band I'd be ticked, but I can definitely do without forty minutes of Bio-Bernstein droning on about reproduction. What have they dragged us in here for anyway?”

I shrugged. “I don't know. The gym riot maybe? There are posters about it up all over school.” I nodded toward a group of students huddled around the microphone. “It looks like student council's running the assembly, so I bet that's what it is.”

Janice rolled her eyes and flopped back in her chair. “Oh, joy! Just what we need—another chance for Wellington High's favored few to show off.”

I wasn't sure if Janice was referring to the gym riot or student council running the assembly. Probably both. She was against everything social.

Janice Beastly was queen of the grumps. Her real name was
Beasley
, but she was so negative and in-your-face that everybody called her Beastly. It didn't help that she was built like a wrestler with a voice to match. She didn't have a lot of friends. None, actually, unless you counted me.

Even that was only friendship by default. I didn't like Janice any more than anyone else did, but when she showed up at the start of grade nine, she adopted me. And since her locker was right beside mine, I was stuck.

Maybe I should have been grateful, because except for Janice, I don't have many friends either. Not that people hate me. At least I don't think they do. I'm just not part of any crowd.

The microphone squealed.

“Sorry about that,” said the boy standing in front of it. It was Marc Solomon, student council president and one of the most popular guys in school. He grinned. “But now that I have your attention, let's get this party started. The first thing on today's agenda is the big gym riot coming up next Friday.”

Behind him the student council started clapping and cheering, and in a matter of seconds the audience joined in.

Marc leaned into the mic. “That's the spirit, Wellington!”

“Oh, spare me,” Janice muttered.

Marc held up his hands for quiet. “As always, the riot's going to be a blast, and this year we've added a whole bunch of new events like tricycle basketball, egg toss and a chain-gang relay.”

“What's that?” someone hollered.

Marc grinned again. “I'll get to that. That and all the other details.” He turned and gestured toward a pretty blond girl standing behind him. She smiled and waved. “Thanks to our student council vice-president, the teachers have agreed to give us gym riot planning time,” he paused, “last period this afternoon.”

“Hey, that's my band class!” Janice protested, but her complaint was lost in the roar that erupted around us.

When it got quiet again, Marc motioned for a boy in the front row to join him at the microphone. Hesitantly, the kid stood up. It was Chad Sharp. I recognized him from French class.

“Right now, though, I want to tell you about a totally new and exciting feature that's just been added to the school's website.” Marc clapped Chad on the back. “And this guy here is the mastermind behind it. For those of you who don't know him, let me introduce Chad Sharp.”

There was a bit of applause, and Chad's cheeks went red. I felt sorry for him. If I had to stand up in front of a thousand kids, I'd probably die.

Marc gestured for Chad to take over the mic, but Chad shook his head.

“A man of big ideas, but few words,” Marc said, resuming his spot in front of the microphone. “But that's okay. The important thing is that thanks to Chad and the parent council, we now have a chat room on our school website.”

An instant buzz spread through the gym.

“You heard right.” Marc nodded. “A chat room. Actually, it's lots of chat rooms. There's something for everybody. If you want to compare notes about movies or music or the newest fads, you can visit
The Hot
Spot
. For you athletic types, there's a sports chat room. Want to talk about the stuff going on at school? Go to the
Wellington Room
. If you just need to let off steam, there's a chat room for that too. There's even a
Homework Help
chat room.”

Excited pockets of chatter sprang up around the gym, and it took Marc a good minute to get everyone quiet again.

“There will be some rules, of course,” he said. “This could be a really good thing, so we don't want anybody messing it up.”

“What kind of rules?” someone asked.

“Well, for starters, only Wellington students will have access. Secondly, when you enter a chat room you have to use a nickname. And thirdly, you can't gross out or talk about other students.”

A hand went up. “If your identity is secret, how will anyone know if you're breaking the rules?”

“Good question,” Marc said. “The office will monitor the chat rooms.

When you log on, you'll exchange your student number and e-mail address for a nickname. No one will have access to your personal information except the site administrator—a.k.a. Mr. Barnes in computer science. To everyone online, you'll be anonymous. But if you break the rules, the office will track you down and you'll be toast. Any other questions?”

Hands shot up all over the place.

“This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard,” Janice grumbled, making it impossible for me to hear the questions and answers. Even a glare from the girl in front of Janice didn't shut her up. “I can't believe the principal is going along with this lame idea. Chat rooms are nothing but hangouts for perverts. Anybody who visits them is asking for trouble.”

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