The F Factor (20 page)

When he got to the plastic tray on the desktop where Mr. Seneca kept the new announcements, though, it was empty. He turned around and realized the papers were already in the hands of the senior football players who had rearranged the chairs and looked ready to practice. Had they read them at all? Did they know how much
rewriting Javier had done to make the announcements interesting?

“Javier, you need to stand by the air-conditioner switch. Turn it off and turn it back on. That's your only job now,” Kenny García said to him in a superior tone. Omar and the three juniors laughed. Even Landry and Steve grinned.

His earlier irritation at speeding truckers and a sleeping friend resurfaced as an angry stare at the guys around the computers. He knew the time would come when he'd have to do something menial for the broadcast, but it wasn't easy to accept it after two weeks in front of the camera. He had actually enjoyed all the stressful excitement as a broadcaster on Guardian TV, but now what?

Javier turned his back on the juniors and walked toward the desk area. Maybe he'd give a little advice to the new broadcast team. Two weeks ago, he would have been grateful for someone with experience to tell him what to expect. Dylan and Ram were taking their seats behind the desk. Mr. Seneca had moved toward Omar and Kenny at the camera.

Pat, who was setting up the microphones, told them, “Don't forget, no matter what happens, don't stop talking.”

“We know what we're doing, Berlanga!” Dylan said with a pit-bull snarl.

“I hope so, Dylan.” Javier stepped from behind Pat and spoke from experience. “You two are up front and personal with the whole school. Everybody has a do a good job or all of us look bad.”

“We're seniors. We don't make mistakes like dumb sophomores,” Ram said, shuffling through the papers he held. “We can handle this ourselves. Go away!”

“Sure, fine,” Javier replied, still annoyed by everyone around him. “I'm going to enjoy watching instead of sweating. Come on, Pat. We're in charge of turning off the air-conditioner. It used to be a junior job, but I think we can handle it.”

“Yup, I think so, yuck, yuck, yuck,” Pat replied in a comical way that should have lowered the stress factor for Javier but didn't.

They walked toward the door where the thermostat was located. Javier hit his fist against the wall. Then he crossed his arms and leaned against it.

“You okay, Javier? You seem a little tense,” Pat said in a low voice.

“It's nothing.”

“No, it's
something
. I can tell. You've been like this since we got out of the truck. What's going on?”

Pat's persistence only made Javier feel angry again. He glared at Pat and said, “Okay, do you
really
want to know?”

“Yeah, I do.” His dark face appeared curious and serious at the same time.

“Well, I'm mad at the guy who expects a ride and then falls asleep in my truck like an old dog. Great conversation we had coming to school this morning, Pat!”

“Oh!” Pat took a step back. “Right … uh, sorry!” He shrugged and tossed up his hands. “Hey, you know I can fall sleep anywhere.”

“The school bus stops in my neighborhood, Pat. If you stay with your grandmother, you can catch a ride and sleep on the bus like all the other guys do.” Javier's face burned, but it still felt good to tell the truth. “I gave you a ride because I wanted a friend along. I don't need to watch you sleep.”

Pat's black eyes widened as he said, “I really am sorry, Javier. I was looking forward to riding with you, too, but … ” He stopped and licked his lips; pausing, as if to say something embarrassing. “… Welita always wants me to stay awake with her and watch TV all night.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “It's why I fall asleep in class.”

“Okay, everybody QUIET! We need to run through this RIGHT NOW!” Mr. Seneca's voice sounded like a death threat.

Javier spun around and turned off the thermostat. It kept him from staring at Pat with a pitiful apology on his lips. No guy wanted that. Pat had been a real friend at the party after Feliz had ditched them. Pat didn't embarrass Javier then, and now it was Javier's turn to return the favor. Each had their say, and that was good enough.

A
s the tape of the broadcast ended, Ram dropped his head into his hand. “That was so bad. We looked like there were poles shoved up our butts.”

“We sounded like fifth graders.” Dylan turned in his chair and glared at Javier and Pat, who sat behind each other in the middle row. “You two made it look way too easy.”

“It's not easy. It'll never be easy.” Javier still felt annoyed by the seniors' earlier attitude. He felt ready to tell off the great Dylan Romo. “You know, it doesn't take a genius to do a job well—just someone willing to work hard.”

Dylan gave him another killer glare before he turned back to Mr. Seneca. The teacher stood by the television, a frown as deep as a cavern marking his features.

“You need to keep Javier and Pat on the air until football season is over,” Dylan told him. “It's not fair they get all the extra time to practice and we don't.”

“If you think it's all about an hour of practice, you're sadly mistaken.” Carefully, Mr. Seneca took a few steps forward. “Javier and Pat read ahead of time and then rewrite what needs to be said. You and Ram grabbed the announcements off my desk and read them cold. Did you even listen during practice? I knew it was going to be bad.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” Ram said. “Why didn't you make Javier rewrite the announcements first? We looked so stupid this morning!”

“If I had tried to warn you, would you have listened to me?” Mr. Seneca replied, slightly lowering his chin to stare directly at Dylan.

“It's not fair. I don't know nothing about writing.” Dylan's voice got a notch louder. “Why can't Javier just keep writing all the announcements? Why do the rest of us have to look bad because we aren't all super-brainiacs like Javier Ávila?”

“So you're going to insult Javier and then expect him to help you?” Pat quickly jumped into the heated discussion. “We wanted to help you this morning, but all you did was blow us off and brag about yourselves. Face it … you two messed up! You owe my friend here an apology and a
polite
request to help you with the writing.”

No one said a word. Who knew sleepy ol' Pat had grown a backbone?

“Okay.” Ram slowly unclenched his teeth and looked at Javier. “We can use the help, Javier. Can you do some of the writing so we sound better tomorrow morning?”

Javier liked the feeling of power he held in his hands. It was hard not to smile as he said, “I don't mind becoming a scriptwriter for other broadcast teams, but you need Pat's help too. I might know a better way to structure a sentence, but Pat can coach you on ways to work together.” He hoped the guys in the class finally understood that even non-athletes could appreciate teamwork.

Mr. Seneca cleared his throat loudly. “Javier and Pat shouldn't have to bail you out every day, gentlemen. All of you need to get better at rewriting and speaking on camera. No more excuses.” He started a lecture on media ethics, and just before the bell rang, he announced, “Attention, sophomores! Today after school, we'll meet so I can demonstrate how to insert video clips into the broadcast. Plan to stick around until five.”

“We get here early, and he
still
wants us to come after school?” Javier complained to Pat after they walked outside after first period. “He's getting us coming and going, isn't he?”

“Yeah,” Pat replied. He rushed his hand through his short dark hair. “And there's still a lot of equipment in those cabinets we haven't used yet. We could be here
every
day for the rest of the semester. Don't you just love the surprises in an elective class?”

Javier shrugged. “I don't know. I've never been in an elective class.”

“What?” Pat's eyes widened under his raised eyebrows. “Are you kidding me?”

“I'm dead serious. In middle school, I took classes to get me ahead for high school. Now I am doing pre-AP classes and taking junior-level courses as a sophomore. I never made time in my schedule to take an elective.”

“Then how did you get into this one?”

“It was Brother Calvin,” Javier said, shifting his backpack on his shoulder. “I know old Calavera put this class on my schedule because I wasn't involved in any school clubs. All last year he'd tell me, ‘There's more to life than studying twenty-four-seven.”

“Amen to that!” Pat said with a laugh. “Why not have some fun? You only get one life, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Javier replied, feeling the itch of uncertainty slide inside his shoes.

But even if he had wanted to change his thinking, there was no time for it. He walked into a pop quiz on Emerson in English, had to lead the discussion on the Assyrians in history class, and felt as if the rest of his teachers had spent their Labor Day weekend figuring out ways to add more work to their students' lives. As he pushed his way through the crowded hallway after last period, Javier wished he could go home and get started on papers, problems, and projects. Only Mr. Seneca had other plans for him.

Javier sighed as he opened his locker and started to load up his backpack with books he would need later. He had actually finished all his chemistry definitions in class and felt tempted to take the book home to read ahead, but he didn't have the extra time anymore. He left two other books behind, closed his locker, and started walking down the hall. He had just reached the area leading out of the building when he saw Brother Calvin coming inside the door.

He gave Javier a grin that only made the old man's face look even more like a cardboard Halloween skeleton. “Hello, Javier. I missed seeing you on Guardian TV this morning. You have developed a great on-air persona.”

“It's time for Dylan and Ram to take their turn on the broadcast. I'm working behind the scenes now.” Javier wasn't expecting his voice to sound cold, but it suited the mood he felt. He was tired and suddenly resentful of the man's interference.

“Learning a lot, are you?” Brother Calvin clapped Javier on the shoulder like they were long-lost
compadres
. “You know, it was like working a jigsaw puzzle to fit that elective into your schedule.”

Javier took a step back, shrugging off the man's bony hand. “I don't think it was fair to put me in that elective without telling me first.”

“If I had asked you about it, what would you have told me?”

“I would have said that I'd think about it.”

“Think about it? Maybe? Last year, Javier, every answer you gave me was indecisive.”

“I'm decisive,” Javier answered. “I made a decision to work hard on my academics when I came to this school.”

“I respect the effort, Javier, but I'd like to know if you're satisfied with that decision. Are you happy with it?”

“Why is ‘happy' relevant? I can't believe the school counselor could be complaining about my high grades.” His eyes burned with anger. “Shouldn't you be more worried about kids who are failing?”

Brother Calvin crossed his arms like adults do when they think they're right. “You know, Javier, there are other ways to fail besides getting an F on a report card. What about failing to try something new? What about failing to discover something to feel passionate about?”

“Passionate? I'm passionate about my schoolwork. I kept a 4.0 all last year.”

“There's a difference between passion and obsession. I think you are so caught up in school academics that you forget you should be enjoying your life.”

“Why did you assume this elective was going to let me enjoy life? Media class takes up all the extra time I used to have for reading and studying.”

“So you don't like the elective?”

Javier stopped in mid-reply. He wanted to tell the old man, “No, I hate it,” but the truth was, that class had taught him a lot. But he didn't want Brother Calvin to know it. He said, “Mr. Seneca's giving me a lot of work to do after school because of this new elective you put on my schedule. I'm late now. Excuse me, Sir.”

He stepped around the school counselor and headed out the door. And while he still fumed as he walked inside the media classroom, it didn't take long before Javier forgot about grade points and school counselors. As soon as he watched Mr. Seneca load up the first broadcast and explain how the switcher could make announcements even better with video clips, Javier felt excited and inspired. “Mr. Seneca, can you teach us more about the cameras in your cabinet? What good is the switcher if what we film looks like an amateur did it?”

Kenny grunted and said, “Speak for yourself, Javier. I know what I'm doing behind the camera.”

“That's good, Kenny. Then
you
can teach the other guys,” Mr. Seneca said. He leaned over and unhooked his keychain from his belt. “Javier, open up the cabinets and get out the cameras we have in there. Pat, help him carry them over to the desk area so Kenny can take over for a while. I'll be back in about ten minutes.”

As Javier and Pat walked away, Kenny said, “Any idiot can aim and focus. Just be sure to press the ON button before you screw up and got nothing to show for it.”

“I'd rather get a tooth filled than learn from Kenny García,” Javier said quietly to Pat as he opened the cabinets. “I'll borrow the manual from Mr. Seneca, okay?”

“You
are
a nerd, Jack,” Pat replied. He laughed before he said, “I'd rather get a tooth filled than read a manual.”

After listening to Kenny's I-know-it-all-and-the-rest-of-you-are-idiots lecture, Javier took home one manual and convinced Pat to read a different one. By the next day they started to film inside the band hall. Javier shot close-ups of the drumline. Then Pat filmed the brass section and did close-ups of Ignacio playing his trumpet and Mr. Henley conducting the band. Finally, they did a wide shot with most of the guys waving or pumping their instruments over their heads, hamming it up for the camera.