Read All About It! by Rachel Wise Page B

progress,’” Michael continued. “That could
     really be our thesis.”
    I flipped through the pages looking for that quote from when I asked the
     questions in the PTA meeting. “Oh, that sounds familiar, I just need to . .
     .”
    Michael put his hand on top of mine to stop me from continuing to flip.
     “It’s okay. I know he said it.”
    I stared at his hand. On mine. Then I looked up. He was looking at me
     and I was so overwhelmed by his cute but serious face that I had to quickly glance away.
     As I did, my eyes fell upon Hailey,who was eating lunch a few
     tables away, staring at us. She had such a sad look on her face that my first instinct
     was to drop everything and run over to her to see what was wrong. But then I remembered
     that she loved Michael and that I was mad at her, so I didn’t do anything. I just
     looked back at him.
    He looked at me and lifted his hand off mine, and as I pulled my hand
     back, I spilled my milk, of course, all over my tray. When I’d finished mopping it
     up, I looked around and Hailey was gone. A tiny part of me felt bad, but I pushed it
     away.
    The spellbinding moment with Michael was broken, and now I was
     chattering a mile a minute in embarrassment, asking Michael all sorts of nervous
     questions about Pfeiffer.
    â€œListen,” Michael said finally. “Just because you
     wrote something down doesn’t mean you got it right either. You could have misheard
     him or your pen could slip and make it messy so you transcribe it wrong. The truth is
     subject to lots of variables.”
    â€œI guess,” I said. “It’s just that I love
     facts.”
    Michael laughed. “I know!”
    He looks so cute when he laughs. His teeth areso
     white and his eyes crinkle at the corners. I could just stare at his face all day
     long.
    We quickly divided up the column and who would write which part, then we
     went down to the office to set up an appointment to meet Pfeiffer the next day for a
     quick follow-up.
    Michael and I had to run off to our next classes but we agreed to e-mail
     each other our drafts of the story tonight, whatever we had.
    â€œHey, are you on Buddybook?” he asked.
    â€œNah . . . that thing is just a time waster.”
    Michael shrugged. “It can be a good way to take polls. Like if we
     set up a page to see who is for or against the curriculum and why.”
    Oh. Well. That would be handy. “Whatever you think . . .” I
     said.
    He nodded briskly. “I’ll give it a shot. See ya.”
    â€œSee ya.” I forced myself to turn away and not watch him go.
     What a cutie! Journalist Drowns as Cowriter Drools all over
     Him.

Chapter 14
    PEACE ACHIEVED BY
     WARRING FACTIONS
    At Mr. Pfeiffer’s office the next morning, I clutched my draft
     of the article and reread it, kind of obsessively. I had to make sure everything was
     exactly right. I liked what we had, but until we were finished with our Pfeiffer
     meeting, I wouldn’t be able to relax.
    The phone on the secretary’s desk buzzed and then she said,
     “Kids? He’ll see you now.”
    This visit was clearly not going to be as warm and fuzzy as the last. We
     opened his door and went in.
    â€œHello,” said Mr. Pfeiffer, standing up. “What can I
     help you with today?”
    â€œHi. Thanks for seeing us,” Michael began.
    â€œWe just wanted to tie up some loose endsbefore we put the article to bed,” I said.
    Mr. Pfeiffer nodded. “Have a seat.”
    We sat and then Michael and I looked at each other. I gestured to him to
     talk first.
    â€œOkay, first of all, I thought you’d like to know that I put
     up a Buddybook page on the curriculum changes and asked people to vote for or against
     it.”
    I looked at Pfeiffer. He was kind of wincing. I felt a little bad for
     him.
    Michael pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket. “And as of
     seven