Chapter 13
***Hey, all! It's been a while :)
If you're anything like me, you need a quick refresher on this book, so it may benefit you to look over the past few chapters quickly ;)
Hope you enjoy!***
***(Nya's POV)***
I sigh, shoving my backpack further up my shoulder and trying to dispel the nerves in my stomach.
Because I was settling yesterday's cafeteria incident with Principal Misako yesterday, I had to miss my meeting with the student leading Ridgewood's journalism club. He was willing to reschedule for today, but I'm more than a little concerned he'll have a bad opinion of me now.
I try to smooth over our upcoming encounter in my mind. Hi, are you Scott? I'm Nya, the Graceton student who mentioned needing an opportunity to practice journalism while at Ridgewood. No, I'm not a terrible student who gets kids into fights in cafeterias. What, my brother told you that? Don't believe him! He's just poisoning your mind against me! What's this? Oh, it's the latest article I finished for Graceton. Would you like to see it? Wait, don't rip it up! That's my life's work...
I roll my eyes at the dramatic fantasy playing through my head. Scott will probably be a very forgiving student at Ridgewood who will judge me based on the merit of my articles, not my brother's apparent distaste for me.
I stop in front of the room where the journalism club is held, taking in a deep breath. I'm missing part of my lunch period to be here, but it's worth it.
It's also worth being away from Skylor and her vocal assertions that my brother is a demon sent from the Cursed Realm to haunt me and my friend group. I know Skylor needs someone to hate right now – it keeps her sane, what with her dad's sudden plan to remarry and move hours away – but it doesn't make it right. I'm the only one with a right to hate my brother. He acts like some upstanding guy to pretty much everyone else.
And besides, I have to deal with the fallout of Skylor's conduct.
I put all thoughts of my personal life aside. It's time for me to focus on something I'm good at: journalism. I'm terrible at making peace in my friend group, but I can write like nobody's business.
And as long as I impress the journalism club in this interview, I can keep doing what I'm good at and finally ditch Graceton's cruddy school newsletter. Ridgewood actually has a newspaper, and if I were published in it, more of my articles would reach the public.
You can do this, Nya.
I knock on the door twice, and I watch a guy turn toward me through the door's window portion. He smiles and waves, then jumps up from his desk chair.
I swallow. Hi, I'm Nya. I'm here to speak with Scott, the student director of –
He opens the door before I can finish rehearsing my introduction.
"Good morning," he greets, his tone chipper. "You must be Nya."
I blink. "Um...yes. I hope I haven't kept you waiting." I look down at my phone, but sure enough, I'm a few minutes early.
He gives me a grin. "No worries." He waves me toward an office door. "I'm glad you were able to come. Scott said you might not make it."
I raise an eyebrow. I never told Scott that I might not make it, so that must've been his own impression of me.
Great. He probably thinks I'm some unprofessional journalist newbie.
"This is his office," my guide says, clearly unaware of my mood change. "I'm Griffin, by the way."
"It's nice to meet you." The response is more automatic than meaningful.
He opens the door for me, and I nod before heading into the darkened room. The only light is from a computer screen illuminating a stubbly face.
Eesh, it's like a cave in here.
The door closes behind me, and I practically jump at the emanating thud.
Scratch that. It's more like a dungeon.
As if awakening from a stupor, the barely lit eyes of the guy at the computer screen dart to me.
I clear my throat uncomfortably and search the wall beside me for a light switch. "Um, good morning. I'm Nya Smith, and you must be...Scott?" I don't know his last name.
He makes no move to rise. "The lights don't work. There's a lamp in the corner."
I raise an eyebrow, which hopefully isn't visible in the surrounding darkness. "Which corner?"
"On your right." Again, he doesn't even try to get up to help.
I awkwardly turn in that direction, rolling my eyes. This guy is giving off serious jerk vibes right now.
After an intense moment of silence, I finally locate the lamp's "on" button. Tapping it illuminates the room instantly, and I turn away from its brightness and toward Scott.
When my eyes adjust, I notice he doesn't look like the un-showered, clawed, five-years-too-old-for-high-school type I imagined him as when I first walked in. He actually looks about my age, is wearing a virtually wrinkleless hoodie, and has his mouth turned down in an uncompromising scowl.
I look for a chair to sit in, but I find none, so I clasp my hands behind my back. "I have an appointment to meet with you about joining the journalism club today," I say uncomfortably. He should already know all that, but maybe his obviously grumpy mind needs a refresher.
"I know who you are and why you're here." He leans back from his laptop, stretching his arms above his head. "So you like getting into cafeteria fights, huh?"
I blink. "Um...no, actually." Wow, this guy knows how to start a conversation. "And I'm not the one who started that fight yesterday. Ask anyone."
He hitches a shoulder. "Regardless, you missed our meeting yesterday because you were involved in that fight, correct?"
I try not to snap at him. "I was not involved. One of my friends was, and so was my brother, so I testified for their sakes."
Scott crosses his arms in front of his chest and sighs. "All right, fine. You weren't involved." He crosses one leg over the other. "But I seriously hope you don't make it a habit to miss interviews."
"I don't," I say evenly, planting my hands on my hips.
"Good." He sits up straighter. "I'm going to be completely honest with you. The only reason you've even made it this far in the interview is that Principal Wu is forcing me to let you into the club. He said something about your presence appeasing the student body of Graceton, since they feel like they won't get enough representation in Ridgewood life."
"I assure you that I'll be a fair representation of my school," I reassure him coolly.
"I wasn't finished," he continues. "If it were my decision, you never would've even been let in the doors for an interview."
Okay, this guy is getting on my nerves.
I resist an eyeroll. "Enlighten me as to your reasoning for that," I bid him. "Are you, a journalist who ought to embrace facts and celebrate truth, an ardent opposer of female progressivism? Because I'm not sorry that women can write just as well as men can – and better, at times."
He rises slowly. "I'm not a chauvinist, if that's what you're accusing me of. Trust me, I'm more than aware that women are completely capable of voting and writing and anything else." He steps from behind his desk. "But I am not inclined to let some inexperienced writer waltz into my club and ruin my newspaper in the name of women's rights and her popularity at Graceton."
I try not to laugh. "The last name Smith doesn't mean I'm popular. Maybe it does at Ridgewood, but Graceton is different." I cross my arms. "I'm here because I'm a journalist. I look at the facts, and I don't let opinions and prejudices get in the way of my judgments." I try not to smirk. "And by the way, I'm not inexperienced, as you put it. I'm actually interning under Gayle Gossip this year."
It's then that I notice I'm practically nose-to-nose with this kid.
He stares me down for a moment, then abruptly turns to leave. "I'll show you to your desk."
I try not to stew over how conceited Scott is. I know for a fact he'll make me prove myself when it comes to writing, but I can do that. I've proven myself throughout my whole life – to my friends, my parents, my school. I'll show him that I'm more than worthy of being a member of this club.
"Would you like to know what your first assignment is?" Scott asks, his words clipped.
"Yes, please," I reply. Do your worst, I dare you.
"Organize your journalism files into an electronic portfolio," he replies curtly. "A good journalist knows where to find all their evidence and works."
"I already have one," I counter.
"Then send it to me so I can evaluate it." He sizes me up for a moment, then says, "You can spend the rest of the lunch period editing some of our members' completed articles."
"I'd be happy to," I smile slowly. I will not be intimidated out of this club.
He gives me a questioning look before turning on one heel and marching back to his office.
I practically grin, feeling like I've won this argument. If Scott wants me to edit articles, fine. I'm a great editor with an eye for grammar, mechanics, and style. I could edit all day.
As I set down my laptop, Griffin comes up behind me with a stack of papers. "Sounds like you'll be joining us, huh?"
I nod. "Any idea how to access articles for editing? Your boss kind of left me without any directions."
Griffin sets down the stack of papers next to me. "These are all the articles currently in need of editing. Scott has us edit paper copies, as he thinks it helps us catch errors more easily."
I nod. Editing by hand may take a minute or two longer, but it's doable.
"How many articles are there?" I ask nonchalantly, picking up the first one to quickly scan over it.
"For this week's paper edition, there are ten. These are the first five."
My eyes practically bug. "Ten?" I thought the Ridgewood paper only had three articles it published each week, plus two weekly columns!
"Scott likes to have us write extra articles so he can evaluate them and put the most relevant, interesting ones in the paper." Griffin smiles sympathetically. "I'll help you edit them if you want, but I'm actually trying to finish up my newest column article right now, so..."
I shake my head slowly, chewing my lip. "I think I'll be fine. Um...do you know when I need to have all those in by?" I may be busy with school this week, but at least I'll have the weekend to work.
"They're due by Thursday lunch."
I balk. "That's two days from now."
Griffin nods grimly. "Good luck."
As he leaves to return to his desk, I resist the urge to groan. I have work this evening and my internship with Gail Gossip tomorrow, as well as homework for both evenings.
Looks like I'd better get editing.
I look over the first paper, which is a piece on the current job market for high school students. It's incredibly factual, including interviews with businesses and students who work for them. The article takes the stance that although the current job market for teens involves lots of low-level work – scooping ice cream, slinging fries, walking dogs – these jobs typically offer reasonable pay and can lead to the development of soft skills needed for future careers.
It's actually a really well-developed piece. If the rest of the paper is like this, it's no wonder Scott is a bit possessive of this club.
I notice a few spelling and grammar issues in my first read, and then I add a few transition sentences and suggest changing up a few overused words. As I'm scanning it over, I stumble over one interviewee's name.
Jay Walker?
I think he mentioned working at an ice cream shop, but I don't know when he told me that. The guy's been so awkwardly silent around me ever since that day he found out I was Kai's sister. The rest of Kai's friends seem to have come around to the idea of him having a sister, but Jay's pretty keyed up. He and Cole sat with my friends and me at lunch today, and he kept looking anxiously over at Kai the entire time.
Of course, Kai was seated elsewhere today. It wasn't with Ash and his friends, but it was with a group of guys I didn't recognize. The only other person I knew over there was Lloyd.
I furrow my forehead. I can't figure out why Kai's estranging himself from his friends. It looks like they've tried pretty hard to reconcile things with him, but he won't let them get close.
It's a protective mechanism. I did the same thing when I was a kid so I'd never get attached to my foster families. I didn't want any parents but the ones I'd lost, so I never let them get close. I pushed them away, in fact. Kai probably pushes his friends away because he doesn't think his relationships with them will ever be the same as they were before, and he can't stand to see that realized.
Yes, I understand Kai now. But I have no sympathy for him.
After all, he's never had any for me.
***(Skylor's POV)***
"Looks like your friend Ash is in the habit of missing detentions," I snap, walking into the work room with an attitude I'm surprised fits through the door.
I am so not up for working with the likes of Kai Smith today.
At breakfast this morning, my dad informed me that I will finally have the opportunity to meet the famed Yvette, also known as my dad's "wuvvy-duvvy". At least, that's what he calls her on their phone calls that I definitely don't eavesdrop on.
When he gave me the news that I'd have the privilege of meeting her, I at first thought he meant that she would be coming to visit us. After all, my dad's busy with work here, and I have school. But as it turns out, the lady wants to introduce us to her family, so we have to go visit her. Thus, right after detention on Friday, I'll be heading out with my dad to spend the weekend at Yvette's place. We won't be back until Sunday night, meaning I'll miss out on spending any time with my friends before the move in a few weeks.
When did my dad stop consulting me in decisions? It's like his world revolves around this fiancée I didn't even know about until last week. It's like I've been replaced!
I'm still trying to figure out what I did wrong to be dethroned in my dad's eyes. Am I not cute enough anymore? Too independent? Too prone to angry outbursts at my dad's lack of involvement in my life? I wonder how his wuvvy-duvvy would respond under the same circumstances.
"Helloooo, Ninjago to She-Devil?" Kai Smith suddenly asks, waving a hand in front of my face.
I blink and stare at him. "What, do you need me to repeat myself?" I ask. What was I just saying?
He raises his eyebrows. "Actually, I think you need me to repeat what I said. You were in another world." He crosses his arms. "If I had to guess, it was the Underworld."
"Ha-ha," I reply, shooting him an annoyed look. "Actually, I was just talking with my friends there to ask how relieved they were when you left."
"Were you asking because of my devilishly handsome looks?" he smirks.
"No, I was asking because you're a –,"
"Hey, guys," Lloyd greets, popping his head in the door right behind me. "Ready for another day of investigating?"
I turn toward Kai's much more reasonable adoptive brother. "I thought you finished your time in detention yesterday," I frown.
"I did, but I thought you guys might need a little help down here." He walks the rest of the way in, closing the door behind him. "And since you two earned an extra week in detention yesterday, I thought you might enjoy some company."
It's not hard to read between the lines of his statement: Principal Wu is sending me down here to make sure you guys don't kill each other.
"Ash skipped again," Kai informs his brother, trudging toward the desks we worked at yesterday.
Lloyd nods. "His dad picked him up and said that he needed him for babysitting duty today. Apparently, it's hard to find a sitter for his siblings."
"They're probably hellions like him," I mutter under my breath.
Lloyd shoots me a warning look. Whoops.
Kai opens his laptop. "What am I working on today, Lloyd?"
"I made a few more phone interviews yesterday," Lloyd fills us in. He takes a seat in the swivel chair beside Kai, then motions for me to join them.
Reluctantly, I walk over and stand next to them.
"I actually ended up calling a guy who goes to our school," he continues. "Kai, do you know Nelson? He's a member of the engineering club, and apparently, he lives down the street from Graceton."
Kai runs a hand over his face and sighs. "He's a sophomore, right?"
"Correct," Lloyd agrees. "He offered to let us interview him tomorrow afternoon. I thought you two might like to drive over and take care of that instead of being stuck in here."
Kai and I immediately jump to shut down that idea.
"I have plans tomorrow!" I practically shout. Not that I know what those 'plans' are.
"Yeah, and I have football practice," Kai tacks on.
Lloyd gives us an unimpressed stare. "Well, go tomorrow evening, then. In any case, I've talked it over with Uncle Wu, and you two aren't getting out of this."
I snort. "I lead a pretty busy life, you know. I play volleyball, help my dad out with his business –,"
" – make other people's lives miserable," Kai suggests.
I'm about to set him straight when Lloyd interrupts, "I know you're both busy, so I'm asking you to make time for something else important in your lives. You need to get that interview done by Friday, and I don't care what you have to reschedule to do it." His tone ends on a sharp edge, making both Kai and I blanch.
"Okay, Dad," Kai finally musters.
As though realizing his obvious frustration, Lloyd clears his throat. "And there's another guy I'm going to try to set up an interview with – Craig Everton, the guy I talked to on the phone yesterday. Yesterday, Nya pointed out that we needed to get a better confirmation of his alibi. It seems a little weird that he stayed cleaning up after a party until midnight."
I scowl. "I just don't think I can squeeze in a few interviews this week, Lloyd." Especially if they involve sitting in a car with Kai. "And I'm going out of town the moment I step out of detention this Friday, so don't ask if I'm available over the weekend."
"Oh, your rich daddy has a fun vacation planned for you two?" Kai snarks, rolling his eyes.
I release a humorless laugh. "Oh, believe me, I would skip this vacation if I could." More like a weekend in not-mom nightmare-ville.
"Then I'll give you two a choice," Lloyd mediates, his tone taking on that no-nonsense edge again. "You can either find a way for both of you to conduct in-person interviews this week, or I can have Wu assign you both another week of detention."
Kai balks. "Lloyd, what has gotten into you?"
He raises his eyebrows. "You're asking me that? I don't need to remind you of why you two are here in the first place, do I?"
Kai turns on me. "She started it!" he accuses. "She's the one who said she had plans for tomorrow, so she couldn't make the interviews."
"And you have football practice," Lloyd interjects. "So you two work something out to meet for interviews this week, or you spend another week in detention together. In any case, you two are going to have to learn to get along." He punctuates the statement with silence, and I can't help but gawk at this authoritative version of Lloyd.
The – the audacity!
"Moving on," Lloyd finally says, "I'm going to have Kai keep looking through footage and news articles on the bombing today. Skylor, you're in charge of looking for discrepancies in alibis. You guys have all the notes the others left from yesterday, and I think Nya sent an updated copy of all her information this afternoon. I would suggest checking your emails and looking through that."
"Fine!" I whip out my phone and flop down in the nearest seat. I am so sending an angry text to my dad about this. Even with his impromptu fiancée stuff, I'm sure he has enough time to deal with insanity like this.
"Email, Skylor," Lloyd says with a warning in his tone.
Kai snickers from his chair a few feet away.
I scoff and stand up straight. "Whatever!" And I walk over a few chairs away, pulling up my email app as I change seats.
I scroll through the first few messages. A teacher sent me an email about an assignment update, one Graceton girl messaged me about getting revenge on some Ridgewood boys who dumped her lunch tray in the trash, an update on the Miss Graceton pageant –
I click on that message and eagerly pull up the text. I've always wanted to compete for Miss Graceton, and only seniors can do it, so this is my first and only chance. If I somehow convince my dad not to move three hours away, that is.
My eyes scan over the message hungrily:
Good afternoon, seniors of Graceton! I wanted to inform you about the Miss Graceton pageant this year, as I've had a lot of questions from you all.
As you know, the pageant is always held in October along with Graceton's homecoming celebration. It's complete with a spirit week, fun competitions, and a dance. It's a long-held tradition, and rest assured that it will be continued, if a bit differently.
The damage to Graceton's building was assessed over the past week, and unfortunately, the building won't be fully repaired and functional until mid-November at the earliest. Moreover, funds that would have supported the Miss Graceton pageant are now being reallocated for repairs. However, leadership at Ridgewood has graciously offered to host our homecoming in combination with their own festivities.
It's annual tradition at Ridgewood to record a week of "game show" festivities for selected seniors over fall break. The footage is then edited and turned into mini movies for the student body to watch over homecoming week, and at the end of the week, students vote to give their favorite seniors points. Points can also be won by winning activities over fall break.
I'm excited to announce that this year, seniors from Graceton and Ridgewood will be elected to compete on the game show, and winners will be announced 'Miss Graceton' and 'Mr. Ridgewood'. Ten elected contestants will agree to spend their fall break filming for the show on the Ridgewood-funded trip a few hours outside of Ninjago City. They will stay in tents in the wilderness, as this year's game show is based on the TV hit 'Survivor' –
I can't hold it in any longer, and a shriek erupts from my lungs. "Survivor?!" I wail.
Kai and Lloyd are up out of their seats immediately.
"What?" Kai asks, his face contorted in confusion.
I open and close my mouth. "I – email – oh, this can't be happening!" I shove my phone in their direction. "Just read it!" I bury my face in my free hand.
Lloyd takes the device from my outstretched hand. He scans it briefly, then wrinkles his forehead. "Wait – seriously? They cannot think this is a good idea."
I leap up out of my seat. "Please let me go talk to Principal Misako! She has to put an end to this. It's – it's madness! Why don't we just hold our own homecoming celebration, and you guys can do your thing?"
Kai snatches the phone from Lloyd's hand. "Hold up. I am still so confused as to what's going on."
I rush up and grab my phone back before he gets smart and throws it in revenge.
"They're making all the Miss Graceton pageant seniors join Ridgewood's Survivor competition!" I practically sob.
"What? Why?" Kai exclaims. "I don't want to be stuck with you guys for a week! I can hardly handle you all for a few hours. And I do not want to deal with the drama of a few prissy girls who can't take living in a tent." He runs his hands through his hair, then looks at me desperately. "Listen, you carry weight for Graceton, and I carry weight for Ridgewood. The students back us up. We'll be a united front against my mom and my uncle about this, and they'll have to let us have separate homecoming celebrations."
As if on cue, Principal Wu barges in the detention room. "Can you two not remain quiet for fifteen minutes?" he demands. "What was all that noise about?"
I march up to him. "Why are you combining the Miss Graceton pageant with some stupid Survivor challenge?"
Kai's right behind me. "Skylor just got an email about it," he adds. "So what's the deal?"
He raises an eyebrow. "That's what you're screaming about?" he asks flatly.
"Yes!" I cry. "It's not fair! Lots of girls who would otherwise compete for the Miss Graceton pageant won't want to if they have to camp out and pee on trees for a week!"
"And no way does any Ridgewood guy in his right mind want to spend a week in the wilderness with them," Kai hedges. "I mean, look at the disaster having them at school has made. How can you even consider –,"
"It's not an issue of wisdom," Principal Misako interrupts him, walking in behind Wu. "And I'll be happy to explain why we've chosen to combine the homecoming events if you'll be happy to explain why you two can't make it through a single detention without a dramatic outburst."
Great. When I look back on my final days at Graceton, I'll be able to sum them up in one word: Detentions.
***SO, WHAT DID YOU THINK?
AND WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN NEXT-***
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