The Rule of Won by Stefan Petrucha Page B

guess the look on my face told him I didn’t have an immediate answer for that one either.
    â€œThink about it, Dunne; you’re not stupid. The
real
secret of life has got to be a lot more interesting and beautiful than aworld that gives you whatever garbage you feel like asking for, doesn’t it?”
    Still offended, but now a little confused, I grabbed at the one thing I knew he couldn’t argue with, not really. I pointed at the scrunched poster in his hand. “Even if you’re right, Mr. E, don’t you think people should be allowed to make up their own minds about it? See for themselves whether it works or not?”
    He looked at me, looked at the posters in his hand, and made a hissing sound, like all the air had been let out of his head. Then he stormed off, leaving me alone with the sounds of power tools mixing with his arguments in my head.
    It felt just like when the basketball game was over. I’d won the argument, but also, I’d lost.
    I mean, what
about
that baby? What about Erica?
    Still grumpy a short while later, I spotted Alden Moore and his crack reporting squad. They were exiting their precious newspaper office, all four laden with boxes.
    The newspaper, and the article vindicating me, had yet to appear, so all in all I wasn’t feeling too great about them. All talk. At least as a true slacker, I never promise to do anything in the first place.
    I was going to ask about my article when I realized they were moving out.
    â€œThey move you because of the construction?”
    Moore shot me an icy look. “No.”
    â€œSo, what? You’re redecorating? Really, if you spent halfthe time actually putting out the paper that you do
talking
about it . . .”
    Mason puckered her features into a pointy, antagonistic shape and said, “We’re being kicked out. Another club, a much more
important
club, is taking our space.”
    â€œWhich club?” By the time I asked the question, I realized I already knew the answer.
    â€œAsk your girlfriend, Vicky,” Drik said with unusual venom.
    â€œShe’s not . . . I mean, what do you mean?”
    Moore, struggling with his boxes, leaned against the wall. “
El presidente
apparently pulled some strings so your Crazy Cravers got our space.”
    â€œYou’re kidding!”
    This, of course, was square-man Guy’s opportunity to practice sarcasm. “Yeah, we’re kidding. We’re packing everything up just to have a laugh with you.”
    â€œWe think someone in the Crave found out about the exposé we planned, so they moved against us,” Moore said.
    Guy eyed me suspiciously. “
You
knew we were planning that article, didn’t you, Dunne?”
    â€œOh sure, my fault the building comes down. My fault you lose your office. My fault when it rains. Blame the slacker. You think maybe the fact that
The Ottis
or whatever hasn’t come out with one issue yet might have something to do with it?”
    â€œ
The Otus
! We’ve had some problems!” Mason burst out. Her voice was so high pitched and defensive, I had to take a step back.
    â€œGeez, take a breath. It’s not that bad, is it? You still have an office, right?”
    â€œFor now, but we get to keep it only if we find a new adviser,” Moore said. “We lost our old one same day as the space.”
    Mason reached out and patted his shoulder. “And Alden’s allergic to mold.”
    â€œWhat happened to the adviser?”
    â€œMr. Giddich. Wyatt’s brother-in-law. Wanted us to just print notices about meetings and letters from the administration. Any time we suggested anything that might ruffle feathers, he nixed it. That’s why the paper hasn’t come out. We finally confronted him about it last week. He said if we were really serious, we’d be better off with someone else.”
    Moore moved forward. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get this stuff into