Black and White and Gray All Over (2 page)

“Hmm. Let's see. Well, I was going to save this for the next issue, but why don't you do an article on school uniforms?”

I looked at him blankly. “What, for here? But this isn't a private school.”

“Yes, I know. But it's an interesting topic that schools bring up every now and then. If everyone wore school uniforms, there would be less competition about clothes, less bullying, less teasing. Plus the clothes you buy for recreational wear would last longer, since you wouldn't be wearing them on a daily basis.” Mr. Trigg grinned. “I'm sure you'll do a bang-up job with this fashionable topic! Maybe some field research at the mall? Take a few girlfriends along? It's not something I'd assign to one of our male reporters,” he said with a wink. “It's a girl special! Just for you!”

“Um . . .” My head was spinning.

“All righty then?” he prompted, turning back to work at his desk.

“Okay, I guess . . . ,” I said. In a fog, I drifted out of Trigger's office and through the newsroom, passing Michael Lawrence and Kate Bigley, who were having quite a good time chatting on the sofa, side by side, discussing what should have been my article! Michael didn't even notice me leaving. This was like a bad dream. Out in the hall, I headed off to earthonomics class, still
wondering what had just happened in there and knowing I didn't like it. Not one bit.

Foreign Stranger Steals Girl's Life!

Yes, but not for long
, I thought.
Not for long.
I needed to find Hailey Jones, my BFF and partner in all discussions boy-related. We needed to discuss the Kate Bigley situation ASAP!

I sleepwalked through my morning classes and then I raced to the cafeteria to find Hailey and download everything that had happened in the meeting. I grabbed a tray and blindly chose my lunch—an egg salad wrap from the “healthy option” table—and scanned the room looking for Hailey's bright blond hair. It didn't take long to find her, but she was sitting with Jenna, her NBF. We'd all met during my ill-fated tryout for the gymnastics team a while back, and those two had really hit it off. I don't mind Hailey having other friends, obviously. It's just that I need her to be totally available to me when it's called for. And this is one of those times!

With a huff of frustration, I set out across the room to join them.

“Hey, Sam!” said Jenna as I plunked my tray down on the table.

“What's up?” said Hailey.

“Hey, Jenna. Hey, Hails,” I said, nodding seriously. I sat and unwrapped my sandwich, dying to tell Hailey all my news but not really wanting to unload in front of Jenna. I didn't want everyone to know I'd just been dissed for a story, after all. I figured maybe Jenna would need to go get a drink and then I could quickly dish to Hailey. Meanwhile, I needed my strength, so food was in order.

I listened distractedly as the two of them chatted about this new watercolor painting class they're going to take at the Y starting after school today. It was Jenna's idea, and I was a little annoyed by the two of them going off to do it together without me, but I couldn't exactly tell Hailey not to do it. Could I? Hmm. Distracted, I took a look around the cafeteria, only to realize that Michael Lawrence and Kate Bigley were sitting two tables away.

I basically choked on my egg salad when I saw them, Kate laughing at Michael's jokes and Michael speaking earnestly and using his hands to gesture like he does when he's making an important point.

“Are you okay?” Hailey asked, interrupting her conversation with Jenna.

“I'm . . . fine,” I said crankily.

“Um, no you're not!” said Hailey, wide-eyed at my tone. “What's the problem?”

I smoldered for a second, debating letting Jenna know my troubles. But I couldn't hold it in anymore. “
That
is my problem!” I said, gesturing with my chin toward Kate and Michael.

Hailey and Jenna turned and looked and then turned back to me, Hailey's eyes as wide as saucers. “
Who
is
that
?” she asked dramatically.

I sighed. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed with exhaustion. I was not dying to get into the whole story. But what could I do?

“That is Kate Bigley, the new star reporter for the
Cherry Valley Voice
,” I said in a monotone.

“What?!” cried Hailey, appropriately shocked.
“Since when? Where did she come from?”

“Manchester, England, apparently,” I said.

Hailey whipped her head around to take another look. “She's foreign?”

I rolled my eyes. “Barely. I mean, England isn't exactly Tunisia or Jakarta or something. She speaks English, obviously.”

“Ooh! Does she have one of those great accents, like Kate Winslet?” asked Jenna in excitement. Right then I hated Jenna.

“Yes, of course,” I muttered.

“Wow,” said Jenna admiringly.

“It's not like you have to do anything to get one!” I burst out. “You just have to be born there!”

Jenna looked at me warily, but Hailey laughed. “Look, maybe she's cute and she sounds cool, but no one's as good a writer as you, Sammy. You've got that on her.”

I rolled my eyes, sure that Hailey was poking fun at me for my comment yesterday.

“For real,” said Hailey, meeting my eyes and giving me a serious look. She tipped back in her chair and nodded solemnly, her arms crossed.

“Thanks.” I sighed. “But I don't have that on her either. She just stole my assignment for the next issue of the
Voice
.” I rested my chin on my hand. My appetite for egg salad had vanished, and the wrap lay discarded half-eaten on my tray.

“What?!” said Hailey. Her chair came back down to earth with a crash.

I nodded. “Trigger was about to assign me and Michael the lead article for the next issue, and in barges the Queen of England and he hands it to her on a silver platter! He didn't even ask for her credentials!”

“Major,” said Hailey, shaking her head. I was happy to see that she took this as seriously as I did. “So now what?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I have no idea,” I said.

Hailey reached over and patted my hand. “Well, you've still got me,” she said.

Jenna nodded. “And me, too.”

Humph.

At the end of the day, I swung by the
Voice
office to pick up any Know-It-All letters that
might have arrived. If Kate was going to steal my news articles, well, at least she couldn't steal Dear Know-It-All from me. I decided I'd make my Know-It-All column for this issue the best I'd ever done. I might even take up a whole page!

When I got to the office, there was no one there, thank goodness. I quickly locked the door and whipped the three letters from the drop box into my bag; then I unlocked the door and caught my breath. It's always stressful retrieving the letters. If I got caught, my cover would be blown and Mr. Trigg would have to get a new Know-It-All. Being anonymous is what it's all about.

Squaring my shoulders, I opened the door and ran smack into Michael Lawrence.

“Ouch!” he said, rubbing his leg where my messenger bag had whacked him.

“I'm so sorry!” I cried. I always seem to be doing something klutzy when I'm around Michael Lawrence. It's beyond embarrassing.

“In a rush?” he asked.

I hesitated. If I said yes, I wouldn't be able to stay and chat with him. But I was still annoyed with him, so I didn't really
want
to stay and chat with him. I just wanted him to go away.

“Kind of,” I said.

“Okay. Bye.” He opened the door to the news office.

“Wait!” I said. That had happened all too quickly. He turned back. “Um, how's it going with Kate?”

Michael raised his eyebrows. “Pretty good,” he said. “It's hard to tell yet.”

“Okay,” I said. “Can she write?”

He folded his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “I don't know. She said she had her own column at the paper back home, so that's pretty impressive. We'll see. It is nice to have someone with a fresh new take on things around here. You know, like an outsider.”

Oh. Fresh? New?

I felt like Michael had just punched me in the stomach. I had to get out of there before I cried (and I am not a crier).

“Well, good luck!” I said, all fake cheery, turning to go. “I'm sure it will turn out great!”

“Okay . . . ,” he said.

I think Michael was confused by my sudden departure, but with tears pricking at my eyes, I could hardly stay. It was bad enough that they were on the article together and she was this great star reporter, but she had something I'd never have: newness. Michael and I have been in the same class since kindergarten and he might just be sick of me. But there is nothing I can do to change that except move away for ten years and come back with an accent!

I speed-walked out of school and rode my bike home very quickly.

After I stowed my bike in the garage, I climbed the stairs to the first floor and passed Allie in the kitchen.

She said in a teasing voice, “How's the star reporter today?”

I told her to shut up and I kept walking.

“Wow,”
she said, shaking her head.

Whatever. I knew my mom would make me
apologize to her later, but it felt good to take out my anger on Allie for even a minute.

Upstairs, I flung my bag to the floor, shut my door firmly, and flattened myself facedown on the bed. I felt like everything I'd been working toward had come crashing down. I wasn't a star reporter: I was just a staff writer who was easily replaced by an untested newbie. And I wasn't Michael Lawrence's right hand, edging toward something more: I was just a replaceable writing partner who was stale and overly familiar, not fresh or new like some other people.

The tears of self-pity started to flow.

I wiped myself out with crying—I guess I'm not in good crying shape, because I do it so rarely—and I wound up closing my eyes for just a few minutes. But suddenly it was dark outside and my mom was coming in and waking me up for dinner.

“Sweetheart, time to wake up. I let you sleep for a little while . . . .” She was rubbing my back and speaking in a soothing tone. The light from the hall spilled into my room and made me wince. I was uncomfortable, too, since I'd fallen asleep
with my notebook under me at a weird angle.

“Hi,” I croaked, turning over. “Can't I just go to bed for the night?”

“No, you need something in your stomach, and I'm sure you must have homework.”

I moaned. “I'm tired.”

“Maybe you slept too long. What's the matter? Allie said you were cranky when you got home.” She sat down on the side of my bed, settling in for a chat.

Ugh. I just wanted to go back to sleep and now this.

“Is it something to do with your classes?” she asked.

I shook my head and stretched.