I thought about the pillow exploding. They wouldn't charge us with that, would they?
“But generally, I think the worst thing that would happen is that you'd be issued a ticket, given a fine.”
“I guess that wouldn't be so bad.”
“It wouldn't be that bad, but I'd still try to avoid it. The real danger is if something goes wrong.”
“What could go wrong?” I asked.
“Lots of things. You put lots of strangers together without a leader and there's always potential for something bad to happen.”
“You don't know these people. Flash mobbers are pretty good people.”
“I'm sure they are, but you know as well as I do that the unexpected can happen. When you started that campaign against Frankie's, did you think it would ever become that big?”
I shook my head and laughed. “No way. It was just a project for my computer class.”
“Who would have thought that you e-mailing forty people and asking them to e-mail forty people, and them e-mailing forty people, would have led to millions of people boycotting the restaurant?”
“Not me,” I admitted.
“And did you ever think that you were going to be threatened with a lawsuit?”
I shook my head. Frankie's had quickly become aware of the boycott, traced the e-mails back to me and threatened me with legal action.
“But they didn't actually sue me.”
“That's only because you have two trial lawyers for parents. They knew they couldn't bluff you,” my father said. “All I'm saying is that you can't always predict where things will go, so be careful.”
“I'll be careful,” I said. But maybe not careful enough.
“Were you online last night?” Oswald asked.
“I was pretty busy,” I said. “Lots of homework.”
“So, you didn't see all the comments about our flash mob. People loved it!”
“Not everybody,” I said.
He grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around. “Julia is not going to like
anything
,” he said. “And believe me, after dating her I have no doubts about that.”
The three of us had been friends since kindergarten. Last spring, for three weeks, the two of them had become
boy
friend and
girl
friend. Forget about how bad it had worked out for them, for me it had just about been the worst three weeks of my semi-adult life. It was like a really bad teen movie where nobody lives happily ever after.
“Oswald, just because you were stupid enough to date her doesn't mean I'm stupid enough.”
Julia and I had never told him about our half-dateâit took place the day after the two of them broke up. We'd both agreed it was better that he knew nothing about it. Julia thought he might have felt betrayed.
I wasn't being that noble.
If I told Oswald I would have to admit that I was equally stupid for trying to turn a friend into a girlfriend. After all the grief I'd given him, he would never let me hear the end of it.
“And, you know, she's getting even harder to deal with,” Oswald said.
He was right about that.
“Every since she got elected school president, she's been nearly impossible to be around.”
“I hear you,” I said. “I didn't think that being made student president would mean you had to stop having a sense of humor,” I said.
“I told you not to invite her,” he said.
“I know.”
“I told you she wouldn't find it funny.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you do it?” he asked.
I shrugged. “We're still friends...I just wanted to include her.”
“You tried. It failed, so don't do it again. She just doesn't understand. She thinks it's pointless.”
“Well, most of these flash mobs are pointless,” I said.
“And that is the point.”
“Yeah, yeah, I understand. How ironic, how cool, howâ”
“Stop right now!” Oswald commanded. “Now you're sounding like Julia!” He sounded alarmed.
“I was just thinking,” I said, “wouldn't it be just as much fun if we set up a flash mob that actually meant something, that had a point, thatâ”
The first bell sounded in the distance, signaling ten minutes until we had to be in our first period class.
“We better get going,” Oswald said. “It would be
pointless
to be late.”
The school was just up ahead. There were two ways to get thereâthe long way around to the front doors, and the short way, cutting across the bridge. We didn't have time for the long way.
We both made the same turnâtoward the bridgeâwithout talking, although I knew we both had the same thought. Sometimes the bridge was fine. Other times there were other kids, older kids who didn't even go to our school, and sometimes they hassled kids. It was usually okay in the morningâI guess punks liked to sleep in.
As we rounded a corner we could see the bridge and the people on itâthe punks on it. There were four, no, five of them, sitting
on the railings of the narrow footbridge that crossed the creek.
“Too late to go back,” Oswald said. “Maybe they'll leave us alone.”
“Yeah, I guess that could happen,” I agreed.
Up ahead three girlsâthey looked like little ninersâwere walking across. The punks were hooting and hollering at them.
“Look, there's a man coming from the other direction,” Oswald said.
He looked like he was in his forties. He was wearing a suit and was heading quickly toward the bridge. I had an idea.
“If we get there at the same time as him, they won't be able to hassle us,” I said.
“Maybe you're right,” Oswald said.
We picked up our pace and timed it perfectly so that we got to one end of the wooden bridge as the man got onto the other. The punks were looking our way and hadn't even noticed him.
Two of the punks jumped off the railing so that they blocked the narrow path. They were both older and bigger than us.
“Where do you think you two are going?” the biggest one demanded.
“We're just going to school,” Oswald mumbled.
“Looks like you're going to be late,” the second added. The three others nodded their heads and chuckled.
“What's going on here?” the man asked. He was standing right behind the two punks, and they spun around.
“Nothing that concerns you, buddy,” one of the punks snarled.
“First off,” the man said, “I certainly am not your
buddy
, and second, it
is
my business. As is everything that happens at
my
school.”
His school. What did that mean?
“My name is Mr. Roberts, and I'm the new principal.”
New principal? We had a new principal?
“None of us go to this school,” another of the punks said.
“How about you two?” he said, pointing at me and Oswald.
We both nodded.
“Then you two need to get to school and the rest of you need to leave.”
“You can't tell us what to do, like he said, we don't go to your school.”
“Then you have no business being on school property.”
“This is public property,” one of them said.
“No,
that's
public property,” he said pointing to the end of the bridge where we had just come from. “This belongs to the school, so I think you better get off it, now!”
The other three jumped off the railing and onto their feet, but none of them seemed like they were getting ready to move. They just stood there, arms folded, facing him and away from us.
“Now, all of you smile,” Mr. Roberts said.
Before anybody could react, he pulled out a camera, a flash went off, and he'd taken a picture.
“What are you doing?” one of them demanded.
“Gathering evidence,” he said. “You have now been given notice that you are
not allowed on school property. If I see you here again, you will be charged.”
“You can't do that!” one of them screamed. “We're going toâ”
Out of nowhere the man produced a large black baseball bat! He'd been holding it by his side, and I hadn't noticed. He slammed it against the wooden railing of the bridge, and all of us jumped into the air.
“Now, it's time you five got going,” he said. “And please make sure to give your name to the two officers on your way.”
He pointed across the bridge. Two uniformed cops were standing there, arms folded across their chests. They didn't look too friendly.
The five punks deflated and quietly walked past us in single file, eyes on the ground.
Oswald and I looked at each other, then at them and finally at Mr. Roberts, our new principal.
“And you two better get a move on or you'll have to get late slips.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, unfreezing from my spot.
We started walking, and he walked with us.
“What are your names?” he asked. “I'm Oswald.”
“Oswald
Johnston
?” he said.
Oswald looked as surprised as I felt. How would he know who he was?
“There's only one Oswald in the school, so your name jumped out.”
He reached out his hand, and Oswald hesitated for a split second before he realized that Mr. Roberts wanted to shake hands.
“I'm pleased to meet you, son,” he said.
“Me too,” Oswald mumbled.
He turned to me. “And you are?”
“Ian.”
“Ian Cheevers?” he asked.
I startled slightly. “Yeah.” How could he possibly know my name?
“You look surprised.”
“It's just that there are a lot of people in the school named Ian.”
“There are. I was just making a guess because the only Ian I know at the school is named Cheevers.”
“You know me?”
“I always make it a point to know
every
student in my school within a month,” he said. “And before the first day is over, I try to meet with every student who's ever been suspended.”
Great. I get one suspension, last year, for three days, and it wasn't even my fault, and it wasn't that bad andâ
“But I was also hoping to speak to you for another reason,” he said.
“You were?”
“Yes, I also like to talk to all the school leaders.”
“I'm not part of student government,” I said.
He laughed. “I'll meet with them too, but I'm talking about the students who are the leaders among their peers.”
“I'm no leader.”
“After what you did to Frankie's, I'm not sure anybody would agree.”
“Oh, you know about that.”
“I think everybody in the whole school district knows about it,” he said. “You two better get moving. The bell is about to go, and you are going to be late,” he said.
“But...but we're here with you,” Oswald said.
“I'm already at school. You two better get moving, fast!”
Oswald and I exchanged a look and started running.
“And, Ian!” he yelled.
I skidded to a stop and turned around. “Come and see me later today and we'll talk!”
I nodded and started running again. The bell was going to go any minute and I didn't want the next time I saw him to be for a late slip.
I scanned the crowd, looking for Oswald and Julia. The whole school had been called to the auditorium for an assemblyâ an unplanned assembly. I'd heard lots of people mumbling and talking about what it was for, but I figured I already knew. We were going to be formally introduced to our new principal, Mr. Roberts.
“Ian!”
I turned. Julia and Oswald were waving their arms to get my attention. They were
in the very first row. That was so Julia and so
not
Oswald. As the new school president she felt it was her obligation to be front and center. Oswald would have liked to have been off to the side.
It was also no surprise who won the argument about seating. They weren't dating anymore, but Julia was still firmly in charge. Julia was like a force of natureâ strong, powerful, somewhat unpredictable and, if you weren't careful, you could get hurt.
“
I
know what this is about,” Julia said, sounding smug.
“My guess is that it's about our new principal,” Oswald said. The superior expression on Julia's face was replaced with a surprised look.
“You know about the new principal?” she questioned.
“Know about him? We've actually
met
him. But how do
you
know about the new principal?”
“I
am
the student president, remember? Ms. Hendricks told me.”
Ms. Hendricks was our old principal. She really liked Julia.
“He seems like a pretty good guy,” Oswald said.
“Yeah, he does,” I agreed.
“Good guy,” Julia said with a snort. “Shows how much you two know. I heard about what he was like at his old school.”
“What was he like?” I asked.
“He ran the place like it was a military base.”
I guessed that the baseball bat probably fit with that image.
Just then Ms. Hendricks, one of our vice-principals, Mr. Samuels, and Mr. Roberts walked onto the stage. I noticed that he didn't have his baseball bat with him.
Our principalâour
old
principalâtook up a spot behind the podium.
“Good morning,” Ms. Hendricks said into the microphone.
The crowd noise lessened but didn't stop completely.
“I'm sure you're wondering why you're here today.”
“Some of you are aware that I am approaching retirement and that this is my last year,” she said. “I was hoping to finish the year, but due to some personal issues it has become necessary to start my retirement now.”
“Do you know what that's about?” I whispered to Julia.
“She told me her husband's been ill. He'll be okay, but he'll need some care for the next few months.”