Flirting with Disaster (2 page)

“We’ll be having elections sometime in June, date to be announced. As far as I can see, the election will be open to Hazelle, Rodney, and Alex, should they desire to have it. However, if you feel I’ve overlooked you and you’d like to be considered, please let me know right away.”

He clapped shut his notebook. “With that, let’s get back to business as usual so the next edition of the Wexburg Academy
Times
can go out on Thursday.”

Everyone dispersed, and I noted that I had only about three minutes before the first bell. I’d been planning to talk to Jack about the article he’d promised I could write. I needed a deadline and a topic. I was so excited—the first article I’d be writing for the paper with my own byline. But Natalie cut me off and buzzed into his office, firmly closing the door in my face. I took a deep breath and bit back the words on my tongue. My question for Jack would have to wait.

I walked to maths with Hazelle.

“This has been an absolutely fabbo day already,” she said. “My grandmother sent me a cheque for a hundred pounds, and my mum gave it to me at brekkers this morning. Brian sent me some great snaps of us at the ball. And now the editor election. I doubt if Rodney and Alex even want it.”

I hoped today would be fabbo for me, too.

Chapter 3

At lunch that day I sat at the table full of Aristocats, the uber-popular group I hung on the fringes of, thanks to my friendship with Penny. Apparently they’d all received the same forward Hazelle had sent to me; I couldn’t imagine who in the world they had in common with her. Although they only touched on the subject briefly before moving on to the next topic, Penny happily shared that she’d received an unexpected A on a science project and another girl had gotten her computer back from restriction early after they’d forwarded the text.

I excused myself early to try to catch Jack, who was sitting at the newspaper staff table, before he left. When I reached the table, I glanced at Hazelle and noticed she was poring over the horoscopes in a magazine.

“Hi, Jack. I’ll, uh, have the column in to you tomorrow.” I kept my voice low so no one would overhear anything about the Asking for Trouble column.

“Brilliant.” He looked at me uncertainly and glanced up to wave at a friend. I could tell by the look on his face that he was wondering why I was telling him this. I had to speak up before he took off.

“I was just, uh, wondering about my article. The one you promised me when I took the photos at the May Day Ball. Do you have a deadline for me, a topic, word count, you know?”

He returned his gaze to me. “Oh yeah. I’d forgotten. Well, all that will be up to the new editor, right?” He flashed
that smile
of his at me, which didn’t look at all appealing at that particular moment. “Gotta dash off, Savvy. We’ll talk soon.” With that, he headed off to meet the group of guys who seemed to be waiting for him.

Up to the new editor?
But he’d promised!

As the students from first lunch left the room, everyone with second lunch began to stream in. I scanned the flow, trying not to look overinterested. I spied Tommy as I was nearly out of the room. I didn’t think he saw me, though. At least, if he did, he didn’t wave or catch my eye.

Chapter 4

The second text came after I was already in bed. I saw the backlight on my phone, and I plucked it off the Bible, still closed, on my bedside table. It was a forward, this time from Monique, in my French class, with whom I had exchanged
mo-bile
numbers, as the Brits say.

This forward urged me to pass this message along to five people I cared about plus the person who had sent it to me. If I forwarded it, I would have four wishes come true. I sat there in the dark thinking for a while.

On the one hand, it
had
been really nice of Monique to send this to me. Like the text said, it meant she cared about me. I didn’t exactly believe the superstition about something bad happening if I didn’t send it on, but I didn’t want her to think I didn’t care about her too. We’d just started to become friends since Madame had changed our seats. Before I could overthink things, I quickly forwarded the message to the first five people in my address book . . . and to Monique. Then I closed my eyes and slept fitfully, with vivid and disturbing dreams.

Turned out I had no reason at all for that bad night’s sleep.

When I got to school the next morning, I headed to the newspaper staff room first thing. Jack motioned me into his office and closed the door.

“I’m sorry I don’t have the column to you yet,” I started, thinking that’s what he was going to talk to me about, even though it wasn’t officially due till the end of the evening.

“I’m sure it’ll be smashing, as always. Listen, Savvy—” Jack ran his hand through his hair—“I handled things a bit badly yesterday at lunch. What I meant is that of course you’re going to be able to write an article, just as I’d promised. A real article, with a real byline. I’ll notify the new editor candidates about it. We work together for a transition period at the end of the year, and I’ll make sure we set aside some space for you in the paper, say, toward the end of June. I can have you work with Melissa on technique and research till then so you’re ready. All right?”

“Thank you!” I beamed.

“Your choice of topic will have to be approved by the new editor. But that’s nothing unusual for any journalist. Part of the job.”

“Of course,” I agreed, knowing that I could work with anything.
Would
work with anything. I was going to be a journalist. At this point, anyway, it seemed like Hazelle was a shoo-in for the editor slot. Alex, our typesetter, didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would want to run. Rodney was a possibility, but my hunch was that he wouldn’t get many of the girls’ votes since he only wrote about sports. Hazelle and I had had a rocky start, but I felt like by now she would give me some freedom to write what I wanted. I floated through the rest of the day.

At lunch, Penny asked if I wanted to see a movie with her on Friday night.

In fifth period, Madame Antoinette assigned Monique and me to work on the same country project, which meant we’d be getting together to make a dish and find some music from Montreal for our part of the French fair at the end of the month.

“Thanks for sending back my text,” Monique said.

“No problem.”

“Have you had a good day, then?”

“Great!” And even then, I had no idea how great it was going to get.

After school, Tommy came up beside me as I walked down the hall with Penny. She knowingly dissolved into a group of other girls, leaving Tommy and me alone.

“How’s your day been?” he asked.

I was very aware how close his head was to mine, his brown wavy hair nearly the opposite of mine, blonde and straight.

“Good,” I said. “I’m going to be assigned a real article for the paper soon.” Last month at church Tommy had discovered my secret, that I was the Asking for Trouble columnist. But he’d promised not to tell anyone, and I believed him. Other than Jack, he was the only person at Wexburg Academy who knew.

Tommy stopped walking and looked uncharacteristically nervous. “Well, our football team is playing a home game on Saturday,” he started. “Have you been to a game yet?”

I shook my head. Football—what we Americans called soccer—was very popular here.

“Would you like to come this weekend?” he asked. “I know that Penny goes to watch Oliver. So it’s not like you’d have to stay there alone while I was playing. And afterward, a group of us heads out to get something to eat together. If you’re interested, well, I’d like for you to come.”

Was he really asking me to go to his game and then out afterward? With others, of course. I wasn’t allowed to date yet—single dates, anyway—but this was different. Surely my parents would see that.

“I’d love to,” I said.

He leaned in thisclose and then touched my shoulder, brushing my hair off of it as he did. “I’m glad,” he said. “Text you later.”

Oh, my goodness. Best. Day. Ever.