In a Flash (4 page)

“So, today,” Ms. Hendricks said, “I am saying good-bye and introducing you to your new principal, Mr. Roberts.”

Ms. Hendricks clapped her hands, and there was a smattering of applause from the audience as he walked to the podium. He and Ms. Hendricks shook hands, and she walked over and took a seat.

“Thank you,” he said. “Could we please have a round of applause for Ms. Hendricks.”

This time it was louder, and there was some cheering. She was a good principal, and most people liked her.

“I am so pleased to be the new principal here,” Mr. Roberts said. “I'm looking forward to getting to know all the staff and students, and I'm sure we'll all work together to make this school the best—”

He stopped midsentence. Had he forgotten what he was going to say? Was he having a seizure or—

“My parents always told me it was rude for me to talk while other people are talking, so I guess I should wait until those two boys at the back are finished with their discussion,” he said.

I turned around, craned my neck and rose slightly in my seat to see who he was talking about. The last few rows were filled with potential candidates. It could have been any of twenty guys occupying those seats.

Every school has a core group of people—usually guys—who cause all the trouble. I was actually surprised that ours were even here at the assembly. Usually they used assemblies as an excuse to go out and have a smoke.

“I'll continue,” he said. “I know that there have been some issues with your school.”

He made it sound like we were a problem school. Sure, the last couple of years there had been talk about how we didn't have enough discipline at this school and how badly we behaved at football games and dances and things like that. And then there'd been a couple of incidents of vandalism and a bunch of laptop computers were stolen and...Well, maybe we did have issues.

“But I believe that this school has the potential to be the
very
best in the district if we're all prepared to work together to make it happen. What I need from each and every one of you is to make a commitment to—”

He stopped talking again, walked to the front of the stage, jumped off and started up the aisle. Every eye followed him. He stopped at the last row.

“I am so
sorry
that I keep disturbing you two boys and interrupting your conversation,” he said. “But you just keep on talking. I'll wait. I'm an incredibly
patient man. No, that's a lie. I have never been patient with rude. You two, stand up,
now
!” he yelled.

Two boys stumbled to their feet. I knew them. Everybody knew them. They were making high school a seven-year project— assuming they ever did graduate.

“These two boys,” Mr. Roberts said as he turned and faced the auditorium, “do
not
run the school. They have no
right
to disrespect
me
or anybody
else
in this school. They will show respect for
everybody
in this school, or they will not be
in
this school.”

He turned to face the two boys and moved so close that he was practically on top of them. He was such a big man that he towered over them. He didn't need that baseball bat to be scary.

“You boys have a problem with what I'm saying?”

They both shook their heads and mumbled answers that I couldn't hear.

“Sit down,” Mr. Roberts ordered, and they dropped down like they'd been shot.

I was really starting to like this guy. As
he walked back toward the stage, there was a rumble of reaction.

“Man, this guy doesn't take prisoners,” I whispered to Oswald.

“If he does, it's just to execute them. Remind me not to get him mad at me.”

As he walked past us, he looked in our direction. “Ian, Oswald, good to see you,” he said quietly.

Before we could respond, he bounded up onto the stage.

“I told you we knew him,” Oswald said to Julia.

“Now, as I was saying before I was interrupted, I expect every person in this school to be respected by every other person. Respect is one of the few things that is
given
, but that has to be
earned
. It's one of the few things that if you want to
receive
it, you have to
give
it.”

He paused and looked around the room. There wasn't a sound.

“Everybody in this school is going to be working toward the same goal. And anybody who isn't—students,” he said,
gesturing to the audience, “or staff”—he said as he looked at the teachers assembled on the stage—“will quickly find they will not be part of this school.”

I looked at the expressions of some of the teachers. Some seemed to be surprised by his comment, others angry, and more than a few looked afraid. A couple nodded in agreement, including Mr. Phillips. He was the guy who had me suspended last year. He was also the teacher I respected the most in the whole school.

“People who aren't willing to work together are not welcome. No exceptions, no excuses, no reason to accept failure.” He paused. “Are there any questions?”

Julia's hand shot up instantly. He motioned to her.

“I was wondering what role—”

“Excuse me,” Mr. Roberts said, cutting her off. “Could you please stand up and state your name.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said and got to her feet. “My name is Julia Brown—and I'm the student president.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Brown,” he said. He walked to the edge of the stage, bent down and offered his hand. They shook.

“While we are all equally important, it is nice to meet somebody who has taken the initiative to take on a leadership role. I respect people who are leaders. Please, your question.”

“In your last school you made a lot of changes,” Julia said. “Will you be consulting with student government before making changes here?”

“I'll talk to anybody who wants to talk.”

“So your door is open to the student president?”

“My door is always open to you, as it is to all students. The president part is not as important to me as the student part.”

“But as the president I represent the students at the—”

“I'm hoping students will feel free to represent themselves.”

“But I was democratically elected.”

“It's important to remember one thing. This is not a democracy. We're not having a vote or counting the ballots.”

“But if all the students want one thing and you want another, don't you think that it makes sense that you should change your position?”

“Just because something is popular doesn't make it right, and because something is right won't always make it popular. In the end, I'm going to do what I think is right, whether you agree or not.”

Julia looked angry and confused, as if she wanted to say something, but she just didn't know what to say. Julia at a loss for words—what a concept.

“Are there questions from
anybody
else?” Mr. Roberts asked.

Julia continued to stand there for a few seconds. She suddenly looked embarrassed— she knew she'd been dismissed in front of the whole school. She slumped down into her seat.

I was really,
really
starting to like this guy.

Julia slammed her tray onto the table, and some of her soup sloshed out of the bowl. She took the seat beside Oswald.

“I really don't like that man,” Julia said.

Oswald shot me a look. We knew who she was talking about. We'd just been talking about how we liked him, but you'd have to be stupid to mention that to her right now.

“I like him,” Oswald said.

Okay, maybe not stupid but determined to try to tick her off. Oswald actually
seemed to like doing that. For that brief time they'd been together, he'd agreed with everything she said. He'd spent the last five months making up for that.

“No,” Oswald said, “not just like. I really,
really
like him.”

“I can't believe that anybody would like him...except for you.”

“Maybe not just me. What do you think, Ian?”

Setup. “It's a little early for me to make a judgment, one way or the other. I'd need more information.”

I smirked at Oswald. He shot, I dodged.

“Well, let me tell you more about him,” Julia said. “He's a former sergeant in the marines.”

“Former?” I asked. “I think once you're a marine, you're always a marine.”

“Well, he does like to run schools like they're a military base,” she said. “For example, at his last school he banned the use of cell phones.”

“Lots of schools have done that,” I
argued. “Kids were using them to text message answers to each other during tests.”

“That's just an excuse. Just don't allow them on during tests. He also banned iPods.”

My hand instinctively went down to touch the pocket where my iPod was.

“And once he banned them, he started to take them away from kids whenever he saw one,” she said. “That can't even be legal.”

“I don't think he'd do anything illegal,” Oswald said.

“He did give them back at the end of the year,” she admitted. “Along with all the hats he took. If a kid wore a hat, he took it.”

“If he takes hats, then don't wear a hat,” I said.

“He also did random locker searches,” she said.

“Who cares? He can look in my locker any time he wants,” Oswald said. “He doesn't need my permission.”

“What he'd need to search your locker is a gas mask,” I said. “Are you ever going to wash your gym clothes?”

“They're aging. Like a fine wine or cheese.”

“I guess it's working. They smell sort of like cheese.”

“Would you two stop!” Julia snapped. “I'm trying to be serious.”

“You don't have to
try
to be serious,” I said under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I said. Nothing I wanted to repeat.

“And that ‘my-door-is-always-open' line of his is just that, a line,” she said. “I tried to go and see him earlier, and his door was not only closed, but the secretary said he was going to be busy all day.”

Oswald started to laugh.

“What's so funny?” Julia asked.

I knew what was so funny. It was better coming from me than him.

“I was in his office before lunch,” I said.

“You? What were you doing in his office?” Julia demanded. “Were you in trouble?”

“No, of course not. He just wanted to talk to me.”

“What did he want to talk to you about?”

“Lots of things,” I said, trying to be vague. “You know, about the whole thing with Frankie's and me being suspended before that.”

“And don't forget the leadership part,” Oswald said.

I felt like reaching out and smacking him, but he was too far across the table.

“What does that mean?” Julia said.

I really didn't want to answer, but there wasn't much choice.

“He thinks that there are leaders in the school.”

“Like student council,” Julia said.

I shrugged. “Right, yeah. But he also thinks that there are other people who can be leaders. He thinks I'm one of them.”

Julia started to laugh, and I instantly felt offended.

“You don't think I can be a leader?”

“I think you
could
be a leader,” she said.

“Could?”

“That Frankie's thing proved you can be a great leader. But maybe that was only a fluke. You refused to even run for student council.”

“I didn't want to run for council.”

“You don't want to do anything lately except hang around, watch TV, play video games and do those stupid flash mob things.”

“Mr. Roberts doesn't think flash mobs are stupid,” I said.

They both looked at me with surprise. “We were just talking and I mentioned them to him. I don't know why. It just slipped out, and then he wanted to know more. He said they sounded interesting.”

“Not interesting. Stupid,” Julia said.

“Flash mobs are not nearly as stupid as student government!” Oswald protested.

“Student government is not stupid—”

“Flash mobs don't
have
to be stupid,” I said, cutting Julia off.

Oswald and Julia looked at me.

“It's just that I have an idea for a new flash mob.”

“Count me in,” Oswald said.

“And count me out,” Julia added.

“I wasn't thinking you'd be part of it,” I said. “But I was hoping you could film it, as sort of a favor.”

She shrugged. “Sure, I guess I could do that.”

“I can't believe that you're not going to tell me what this is all about,” Julia said.

“Don't you like surprises?” I asked.

“You
know
I hate surprises.”

“Really?” I did know that, but bothering her was so appealing.

“Don't tell her,” Oswald said.

He was much more obvious about trying to annoy her.

“It's not like she's actually participating in the flash mob,” he said.

“But I am taping it,” she said.

“That's why he shouldn't tell you,” Oswald continued. “You're just taping, it's not like you need to know what we're going to do. You just have to point the camera at us and push the button.”

“He's right,” I agreed. “But make sure you start wide-frame so you can get the big red neon sign in. Then go down to the action on the street, and after we all take off, go wide again.”

“Are you hoping to be a film director some day?” Julia asked.

“I just want it done right, okay?”

She saluted.

“Thank you.” I looked at my watch. We had six minutes. “We better get going,” I said to Oswald.