“Your mouths should be silent. You have two more minutes to study, and I suggest you use your time wisely,” said Mrs. Steinbeck.
As the fifth-grade science teacher for over 30 years, as well as the most difficult teacher at Emerson Elementary, Mrs. Steinbeck commanded the respect of her class in a seemingly effortless manner. Her voice was tender and smooth; it might have been soothing had it not come from such an intimidating source. Her attire was reserved yet fashionable, and always perfectly coordinated. Her short, silver hair looked as if she stopped at a salon every morning, as each strand lay in the exact same place every single day (this prompted rumors that she wore a wig, but there was certainly no one brave enough to try and find out). And she always smelled of perfume – a powdery fragrance that occupied her classroom and left a trace of itself wherever she went.
But no matter how angelic her voice sounded or how stylish her wardrobe was, Mrs. Steinbeck was seen simply as the old, mean teacher. She demanded absolute focus from her students, bell to bell, day after day. She was strict, consistent, and thorough, and she expected the same kind of perfection from everyone around her. Although she had been due for retirement a few years back, Mrs. Steinbeck returned year after year, continuing to be a nightmare for her students.
As soon as she spoke, the talkative mouths fell silent and the students tried to cram in a few extra bits of information before their weekly science quiz.
Unlike his classmates, Drew was not studying. Instead, he was fixated on the drawing of a sunset over an ocean shore in his textbook. How do the waves look so real? He ran his fingers across the textured wave ripples, hoping to feel the water. Since he first discovered the drawing a couple of weeks ago, he had marveled at it as though he were walking into an art exhibit every time he opened his book.
“One minute left,” said Mrs. Steinbeck.
But rather than review his notes, Drew flipped to the front of the book to once again remind himself of his mission: find the Mystery Artist. Five kids had owned the book before him: Jason Porter, Stacey Janofsky, Alexus Ballentine, Mike Hudock, and Skylar Jansen. Which of these five people had drawn the amazing picture?
Two names on the list stood out. Jason Porter was Tommy’s older brother. Although Tommy and Drew were good friends, Drew never thought of Jason as very approachable. Jason, now in tenth grade, was kind of a tough guy, and Drew figured it unlikely that he was the Mystery Artist.
The other name he recognized was Skylar Jansen. She was the yellow-haired girl he had seen on his new way home from school – the girl Tommy had referred to as “the most popular girl in sixth grade.” Drew knew he would get a chance to ask her sooner or later. Although Skylar was in middle school, Drew would still have an opportunity to see her at lunch. The elementary school and the middle school were attached by a common cafeteria, and fifth-graders and sixth-graders had lunch at the same time. Also, he passed her house on his new route to and from school every day.
It seemed important to find the artist, even though he wasn’t sure what he would say if he did. He felt connected to the picture, as though he were meant to find it – almost like the picture had been drawn specifically for him. There was just something about that pencil-drawn ocean that eased his scrambled mind.
The nameless runner who fixed Mr. Johnston’s flower arrangement could’ve been just about anyone, but the Mystery Artist had to be one of those five previous owners of the book.
“Time is up. Books away. The only thing on your desk should be a pencil. As always, you have ten multiple choice questions, and you have fifteen minutes to take the quiz. Today’s quiz is on major bodies of water.” Mrs. Steinbeck spoke with precision, enunciating each letter, consonant and vowel, as though she were interviewing for a broadcasting job. She walked up and down the aisles and placed a quiz on each student’s desk, faced down. “When I tell you, you will turn your paper over and begin your quiz. Keep your eyes on your own paper. You have fifteen minutes, and your time begins …” she said, with her eyes glued to her gold watch, “now.”
Mrs. Steinbeck continued to pace steadily throughout the room, her hands clasped behind her back and her narrowed eyes searching for suspicious behavior.
After answering the first five questions, Drew lifted his head to check the time. As he glanced at the clock on the wall, he saw Trevor Lambert whispering something to Jeff. Immediately Drew looked for Mrs. Steinbeck. She would give both Trevor and Jeff detention if she saw them talking during a quiz. Luckily for them, though, she was on the opposite side of the room with her back turned.
Drew put his head down and covered his forehead with his hand, as though he were concentrating on his quiz, but his green eyes were locked in on Trevor and Jeff. When Mrs. Steinbeck turned to face the boys, it looked as though nothing were out of the ordinary. But once she turned around again, Drew noticed Jeff dropping his left arm, which had been guarding his paper. Trevor, who sat next to Jeff (and in front of Drew), was now searching Jeff’s paper to find his answers for each question.
“One minute left,” Mrs. Steinbeck declared, sending a wave of panicky jitters through the handful of students still working. Drew still had three questions to go and knew he needed to focus all his energy to get through them in time.
“Time is up. Pencils down.”
Drew had only finished nine of the ten questions, but he quickly filled in ‘B’ for number ten without reading it. He had imagined that, after the quiz, he would be focusing his thoughts on the unknown artist from his book, but instead he was consumed with what he had seen Jeff doing.
****
After science class was lunch. Drew wanted to ask Jeff about what happened, but with teachers and other students hovering all around, he couldn’t risk anyone overhearing, so he waited until they went outside for recess.
Tommy had a football he’d brought from home. He ran to the far end of the fenced-in pavement and yelled “Catch!” to Jeff. Jeff caught the ball on the run and passed it to Drew. The three usually split into a triangle while catching, but Drew walked over toward Jeff so he could talk to him. Tommy didn’t seem to mind, as he simply alternated who he threw the ball to each time.
“I saw what happened during the science quiz. What was that all about?”
Jeff’s cheeks reddened. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Jeff, this is Steinbeck we’re talking about! You know how much trouble you’d get in if she caught you?”
“I know,” Jeff said sheepishly.
“Then why’d you let him copy?”
“Well … did I really have a choice?” His words were meek, and Drew immediately felt bad for his friend.
“Couldn’t you pretend like you didn’t hear him or something?”
Jeff caught the ball and held onto it as he answered. “I did. But then we made eye contact. And he was telling me before class that he didn’t have a chance to study.”
“Come on, Jeff!” yelled Tommy.
Jeff chucked the ball to him and continued. “I just don’t wanna get beat up. So I made sure Mrs. Steinbeck wasn’t looking whenever I dropped my arm. I was real careful.”
“Wait, did he say he would beat you up?”
“Drew, look at me. Trevor’s a giant. He would’ve pounded me if I didn’t let him copy.”
“Have you ever seen him pound anybody?”
“I don’t have to,” said Jeff. “He’s twice my size, he plays football, and he accidentally knocked Emma down in kickball last week running the bases, remember? She had to go to the nurse. And he didn’t even mean to hit her. I’m sure if he meant to hit me, it would be way worse.”
Drew pictured a fight between Jeff and Trevor and shuddered at the thought. Jeff was average-sized, and Trevor was by far the biggest kid in the fifth grade. Not only was he much taller than Jeff, but he might truly have weighed almost twice as much.
“Well, I don’t know, man. You could’ve got in a lot of trouble.”
“I know,” said Jeff. “I just didn’t know what to do. He was telling me about how he broke Kyle Olinski’s wrist at football practice. At practice! Not even in a game. And Kyle’s in sixth grade. Trevor plays on the older team ‘cause he’s so big. They don’t even let him play with other fifth-graders. Then he said all this stuff this morning about not wanting to fail the science quiz ‘cause he’s already failing math. I’m telling you, I had no choice.”
Drew spent the rest of the day trying to figure out a solution. He thought about confronting Trevor himself, or even telling Mrs. Steinbeck about it, but he figured either way it would result in a pounding.
Lying in bed that night, Drew finally made his decision: he would do nothing. After all, this was just a one-time issue. Trevor didn’t study, so he pressured Jeff to help him cheat. Fortunately, they didn’t get caught. Drew was able to rest his tired eyes knowing the problem was over. He could now concentrate on more important things, like the Mystery Artist. He fell asleep that night brainstorming how to go about asking Jason Porter, Tommy’s brother, if he was the one who drew the picture.
****
A week passed, and it was time for another science quiz. Mrs. Steinbeck issued the same instructions she did every week. “Time is up. Books away. The only thing on your desk should be a pencil. As always, you have ten multiple choice questions, and you have fifteen minutes to take the quiz …”
A few minutes into the quiz, Drew lifted his head to check the clock and saw Jeff’s head turned slightly to the right, in the direction of Mrs. Steinbeck. She had her back toward him, so he dropped his left arm, and Trevor leaned over to copy his answers, just like the week before.
The rest of the afternoon was a daze. Drew barely ate his lunch and chose not to play basketball with his friends during recess. He figured other students tried to cheat sometimes, but he never thought Jeff would. Most kids are taught that cheating is wrong, but Drew had been taught why. He always remembered his lesson on cheating because of how his dad had explained it to him.
About a year ago, his dad was having a conversation with Ken, the neighbor who lived with his wife in the other half of Mr. Daley’s duplex. The two men were talking about performance-enhancing drugs in baseball. Drew loved baseball, so he moved from the swing on the front porch toward the steps to hear what they were saying. Though he didn’t know the technical terms his dad and Ken were talking about, he could tell that both men were frustrated. After they finished talking, Ken went into his garage and Drew stood there, silent, hoping his dad would continue. Mr. Daley could sense Drew’s curiosity and tried to explain the situation the best way he knew how.
“It’s not just the drugs, it’s what they stand for. Baseball’s a pure game, or at least it was, and those guys who used those drugs took away from the game being pure. And any records they break aren’t truly theirs, you see?”
“Well, I guess so.”
Seeing the look of confusion on his son’s face, Mr. Daley continued: “Here’s the thing, as a person, you’ve gotta be … you’ve gotta be authentic. Being authentic is just being you. It’s natural, it’s genuine … it’s real. See what I’m saying? When you cheat, whether it’s in a game or on a test in school, you aren’t being you. You’re being someone else. You know why I never yell at you when you don’t do great on a test?”
Drew shook his head side to side.
“It’s because I know it’s you taking that test. I don’t know about you, bud, but I’d rather get a C that I earned than an A that I didn’t. So when you have your own baseball cards one day with your picture on the front, the numbers on the back will be yours, nobody else’s.”
Drew replayed that scene in his head while his classmates played basketball until the bell rang. Jeff, one of the kids playing, looked over at Drew every few seconds, but Drew wouldn’t meet his eye line.
He felt like he would explode if he talked to Jeff, so he avoided him all afternoon. He tried to pack and repack his book bag in hopes that his friends would begin walking home without him, but they were waiting for him at the bottom of the school’s steps. As Drew emerged from the building, he thought of all the things he wanted to say to Jeff: how stupid he was being, how he was going to get caught, and why cheating was wrong. But he didn’t get a chance to say any of those things, because Jeff spoke first.
“Listen, Drew, I talked to Trevor before homeroom this morning. He asked me if I studied for the quiz and I told him I did. He was like, ‘Aw, good.’ Then he started talking about Kyle Olinski again and how he broke his wrist. Kyle can’t play the rest of the season. I know he did it by ‘accident,’” said Jeff, framing the word in the air with finger quotes, “and everything, but I think he was giving me a warning: ‘If you don’t let me copy, you’re next.’”
Tommy looked up from his phone. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“No, I figured you did,” said Drew.
For the first time since the bridge had closed, the long walk home was convenient. Drew and Jeff needed the entire 15 minutes to fill Tommy in. They were still discussing it when they reached the end of Jeff’s street.
“It’s like he has nothing better to do than ruin my life,” said Jeff.
“Maybe he don’t have time to study ‘cause he’s trying out to be an extra in Zombie Days,” said Tommy. “The kid’s so pasty white he looks like a zombie!”
The boys laughed at Trevor’s expense while Tommy stuck out his tongue, rolled his eyes back, and dragged his feet through the heaps of golden leaves piled along the curb.
“Well, what are you gonna do?” Drew asked Jeff.
“I dunno,” Jeff murmured.
Drew sighed. He realized now that Jeff was stuck in a situation beyond his control.
“So …” said Tommy, raising his thick eyebrows in uncertainty.
“Well,” said Drew. He didn’t have a plan, but he sensed Jeff and Tommy were relying on him to figure out the next step. “My dad’s picking me up in a little to go out to dinner. You two are hanging out tonight, right?” The boys nodded. “Try to think of something over the weekend. I’m not sure if I’ll be home tomorrow or not. Either way, we gotta figure out a way to help Jeff get out of this. But remember, let’s make sure we don’t talk about it in school. No use getting caught that way.”
“Yeah,” said Tommy, “that’d be the worst way to get caught cheating – when you’re just talking about it and not even doing it.”
****
That night, Drew and his dad went to Rizzo’s Pizza, Drew’s favorite place to eat. He considered asking his dad for advice but wasn’t sure how to do so without telling on Jeff. He brought up baseball, hoping to nudge his dad toward the topic of the “authentic,” but it never came up. Still, the two of them had a good evening.
But later that night, as he tried to fall asleep in his bed at his dad’s place, one thought was racing to the next. If we don’t do anything to stop Trevor, they’ll eventually get caught and Jeff will get in big trouble. If I tell Mrs. Steinbeck and she confronts Trevor, Trevor will think Jeff told on him and then he’ll beat Jeff up the next day. Jeff would never forgive me. If I tell Dad, he might tell Mr. Gray, then Mr. Gray would tell Mrs. Steinbeck and Trevor will still think Jeff told on him. We can’t risk Trevor thinking Jeff told on him. Could Mr. Sawyer help? No, he’d still have to go through Mrs. Steinbeck …
Everything seemed to lead to Jeff getting in trouble, and Drew knew he couldn’t let that happen. Besides, Trevor was the one doing something wrong. If only there were a way to get Trevor to back off without him thinking Jeff had anything to do with it.
After an hour of tossing and turning, the picture from the science book popped into Drew’s mind. He sat up and turned the key-shaped knob on the light next to his bed. He looked around his room before remembering that he hadn’t brought his science book to his dad’s. Disappointed that he couldn’t look at the picture before he fell asleep, he shut off the light, closed his eyes, and tried to actually hear the waves in the drawing. Within minutes, he drifted asleep.
Instead of hanging out with Jeff and Tommy, he decided to spend the weekend at his dad’s. On Saturday afternoon, while they were playing catch in the front yard, Mr. Daley invited Zobby to join. When Mr. Daley went inside to get some drinks, Drew considered asking Zobby for advice about Trevor but decided against it. He knew he could trust her to keep the secret, but he felt like he would betray Jeff by letting anyone else in on it.
On Sunday, Drew and his dad finished up their volunteer work at Emerson Park. Over the summer, Mr. Daley had decided to help with a community project to renovate the old park. He was an architect’s apprentice. He once had an office job but found himself unsatisfied. About six years ago, before he and Penny divorced, he changed his career entirely, planning to one day become an architect.
Due to his architectural background, he was given the job of constructing the swing set, and he asked Drew to help. The two of them worked on building the swing set all summer long, and Drew even got to paint it after they finished. When they were at the park on Sunday, Drew snuck a peek under the tarp that was covering the swing set, and he was filled with mounting excitement for the reopening of the park at the upcoming Fall Festival.
The weekend with his dad was just what Drew needed to escape all the anxiety caused by the cheating incident. He went to school on Monday feeling refreshed. For the first time in almost two weeks, he was able to greet Jeff free of awkwardness.
“What’s up, man? How was your weekend?”
Jeff looked slightly surprised at the casual greeting. “Um, good. Me and Tommy and Caleb went to the mini golf course on Saturday. It was okay, even though Caleb acted like he was playing hockey instead of golf and we almost got kicked out.”
As the boys retrieved their books from their lockers, Drew saw Trevor lumbering toward Jeff with a big grin across his face.
“Hey, how was your weekend?” the burly bully asked Jeff.
“Uh, good.”
“Yeah, I had to study for this math test all weekend. I hate math. I’m way better in language arts. And you know I’m pretty bad in science sometimes, too,” Trevor said with what appeared to be a laugh. Surprisingly, his laugh was squeaky and high-pitched, the last thing Drew expected from a big tough guy.
Jeff forced an awkward laugh. “Ha, yeah, well, I gotta go. Almost time for homeroom.”
“All right, see ya, buddy,” said Trevor, and he gave him a hard pat on the back before departing. His big paw landed heavily between Jeff’s shoulder blades, causing him to stumble forward and nearly drop his books.
Now, having seen Trevor’s intimidation tactics firsthand, Drew felt even worse for Jeff than before. Something had to be done. He spent most of the morning drawing pictures in his notebook and trying to come up with ways to get Jeff out of this dilemma, but every solution seemed to lead to the same inevitable conclusion: the big bully pulverizing Jeff into a fine powder. By the time Drew got to science class, he couldn’t think of anything except that good-for-nothing Trevor, and how he was ruining his best friend’s life.
“Mr. Daley? I said Mr. Daley.” Mrs. Steinbeck had called on him, but he hadn’t even heard the question.
“Um …”
As Drew tried to stall, Trevor leaned back in his chair, stretched his huge, pasty arms as if yawning, then turned his head to cover his mouth with his shoulder as he whispered, “Condensation.”
“Uh, condensation?” said Drew.
“Correct. Now stop daydreaming and start taking notes,” said Mrs. Steinbeck, holding her glare on him for an extra second before moving on.
Drew and Jeff exchanged baffled glances. How could Trevor, the cheater, know that answer?
After class they ran to the cafeteria, shoveling down their meals so they could get outside to talk. Tommy had brought a basketball. Even though a pickup game was forming on the near court, the three boys traveled down to the far court for privacy.
“So, did you tell him my plan?” Tommy asked Jeff.
Jeff clearly didn’t like Tommy’s plan. “No, I didn’t get a chance. But I –”
“Come on, man,” Tommy interrupted. “It’s awesome. So listen to this, Drew. Jeff can’t tell Mrs. Steinbeck ‘cause then Trevor will pound him. He can’t tell his parents ‘cause his parents will tell Mrs. Steinbeck. And he can’t talk to Trevor ‘cause Trevor will just pound him and keep copying off him …”
Drew was impressed. It seemed like Tommy had contemplated the problem just as much as he had.
“So the best idea is to change seats,” Tommy continued. “That way no one knows Trevor was cheating, and Jeff don’t get his face rearranged.”
Drew ran that idea through his head. “Yeah, maybe that’ll work.”
“No,” said Jeff, “wait for how I have to do this.”
“Yeah, well, the thing is, we always gotta sit in the assigned seats Mrs. Steinbeck gave us, right?”
“Right.”
“Yeah,” said Tommy, “so all he has to do is tell Mrs. Steinbeck he needs a seat near the door ‘cause he got explosive diarrhea, so he might have to run to the bathroom at any second.” He was laughing so hard he could barely get the words out.
Jeff rolled his eyes, obviously unamused by Tommy’s bright idea.
“Well,” said Drew, “maybe you should try that. I mean, we don’t have a better idea.”
“No, man, I’m not saying that! Besides, Mrs. Steinbeck would probably call my mom to make sure it’s true. She’d probably want a note from my doctor or something.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” said Drew. “But changing seats might not be a bad idea. Maybe there’s another way …”
“I dunno, man. Mrs. Steinbeck’s so strict about everything, you know? If I ask her to change my seat, she’ll still need to know why, right? Besides, the whole class is full, so there’s no extra seats. Someone else would have to move too, and she’ll never let that happen.”
“Eh, good point,” said Drew. “I just don’t know what to do. And what was up with him knowing that answer today?”
“I dunno.”
“He probably accidently learned something copying off you,” Tommy joked.
The boys laughed and began shooting basketball. A few others came down to play along, and without a word, the boys knew their conversation was over.
A few more days passed. The Trevor issue continued to weigh on Drew’s mind, but he couldn’t imagine what Jeff was going through. Thursday night, as Drew told his mom he was up in his room studying, he was actually plotting how to get his friend out of this mess. After hours of brainstorming, he finally figured it out: the perfect plan. Mrs. Steinbeck wouldn’t know Jeff was helping Trevor cheat, Drew’s parents and Jeff’s parents would never find out, and Jeff wouldn’t get thrashed by Trevor. The problem would be eliminated.
And best of all, Drew thought, nobody gets hurt.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He rubbed his thumb and index finger together, as though he were trying to feel the sand from the drawing in his science book. Though he didn’t understand how, the picture continued to soothe him. With the picture in his head and the imaginary sand between his fingers, he fell asleep.
****
The next day, just before Mrs. Steinbeck began her pre-quiz ritual, Drew walked to the front of the room to grab a tissue. Many students had their ears covered and their eyes glued to their books. Concentrating on getting a few extra minutes of studying in before the quiz, his classmates didn’t even seem to notice that he had stood up. Even Trevor appeared to be studying.
With his pencil in his left hand, Drew blew his nose and walked back toward his seat. But before reaching his destination, he dropped the pencil. He quickly scanned the room and saw that nobody was paying attention to him. So, as planned, he knelt down to pick up his pencil with his left hand, and with his right hand he slid a small piece of paper onto Trevor’s chair next to his leg. Drew’s heart started beating hard. He quickly sat down and tried to collect his wits before anyone noticed.
“When I tell you, you will turn your paper over and begin your quiz. Keep your eyes on your own paper. You have fifteen minutes, and your time begins … now.”
Drew’s nervous hand trembled. He could barely fill in the bubbles without scribbling outside the lines. Mrs. Steinbeck circled the room like a hawk.
To Drew’s dismay, she didn’t see the paper sticking out from under Trevor’s pant leg on her first round. Once her back was turned again, Jeff dropped his left arm. Trevor didn’t react, but Drew assumed he was just being careful. The big bully’s been cheating so much that he’s actually getting pretty good at it.
On Mrs. Steinbeck’s second lap, she stopped next to Trevor’s desk and said, “Mr. Lambert, a word.”
Trevor looked stunned.
“Uh, yes, Mrs. Steinbeck?” he said in his most polite voice.
By this point, most of the other students’ attention had shifted from their quizzes to Trevor. Drew, afraid of arousing suspicion from Mrs. Steinbeck, did his best to look as confused as everyone else. His heart was pumping so hard that he half-suspected she could hear it.
“What is under your leg, Mr. Lambert?”
“My leg?” Trevor felt around on his seat and found the little piece of paper. He picked it up, looked at the words written on it, and closed his eyes. Drew could see the giant’s oversized hands shaking as he held the paper.
“What, may I ask, is that?” said Mrs. Steinbeck. Her words hung in the air, demanding to be answered.
“It’s …” Trevor’s desperate eyes searched the room for a lifeline. His classmates stared back at him, amazed at the horror of the situation. Drew looked out the window, afraid that eye contact with the bully would give him away.
Mrs. Steinbeck held out her hand, and Trevor placed the crinkled paper in her palm. She took the paper and examined it carefully. Then she scanned the room herself, looked back down at Trevor, and said, “Thank you for not making this any more difficult. At least you didn’t lie about it, too. Go to the principal’s office, Mr. Lambert.”
Trevor’s mouth opened but his vocal chords continued to betray him. Finally surrendering, he gathered his things, averted his watery eyes from his classmates, and left the room.
The last remaining sound in the room was the reverberation from Trevor shutting the door. The students’ heads turned from the boy, to the door, and now to the only person standing. Mrs. Steinbeck once again cast her gaze over the rest of the students, this time for several awful seconds. Then she picked up the cheater’s quiz from his desk, held it in front of her by pinching the top with her index fingers and thumbs, and tore it in half. The ripping of the single piece of paper shattered the silence and struck fear into every student in the room. Then Mrs. Steinbeck simply looked at her watch and said to the class, “Six minutes left. I suggest you continue with your work.”
Drew couldn’t believe it. His plan had worked. He was filled with a mixture of feelings: pride, relief, and also confusion. When he envisioned how the events would unfold, he figured Trevor would make a scene and lash out. It was strange that he didn’t put up a fight. But as puzzling as that was, Drew was too satisfied with how wonderfully things turned out to worry about it. Now, Jeff wouldn’t get beat up or get caught cheating, and no one had to know how the cheat sheet ended up with Trevor. Drew had decided the night before that he wouldn’t tell anyone – not even Jeff – that he was the one who planted the cheat sheet on Trevor. He felt like the runner who had helped Mr. Johnston, not needing the recognition to do the right thing. Like Mr. Sawyer said, the deed is everything, the glory is nothing.
At lunch, the boys couldn’t wait to get to the playground to talk, so they whispered at the lunch table.
“Can you believe that big dummy? He’s so stupid that he tried to use a cheat sheet on top of copying,” said Tommy.
“I’m just glad I’m out of this mess,” said Jeff. “Now that he got caught cheating, Mrs. Steinbeck and every other teacher will watch every move he makes. Even Trevor wouldn’t be dumb enough to cheat again.”
Drew barely contributed to the conversation. His joy was in knowing that he had saved Jeff from serious trouble. He did stop to think that he didn’t study last night because he was concentrating on his plan, but he was okay with it. A failed quiz was worth helping out his best friend.
The three boys ended up playing video games the majority of the weekend. Things were finally back to normal. The tension and worrying of the previous few weeks was gone for good, and Drew knew it was all thanks to him.
****
Monday morning, Drew settled into his seat in science class, his body still overheated after an intense game of capture-the-flag in gym class. As Mrs. Steinbeck began taking attendance, he noticed that Trevor’s seat was empty. He wasn’t in gym, either, he realized. Then he turned his attention to his science book. He opened to the drawing of the ocean shore and wondered which of the previous owners could have drawn the magnificent picture. He was paying just enough attention to Mrs. Steinbeck to say “here” when his name was called.
He thought he’d better copy the five potential artists’ names onto another piece of paper so he could carry it around with him. But before he could do so, he heard Mrs. Steinbeck say something strange: “Trevor … well, obviously he will not be with us today.”
The heat that had disappeared from Drew’s body came flooding back. His nerves were on fire and his heart was beating fast, similar to when he had planted the cheat sheet on Trevor’s chair. He frantically tried to dissect what she had said. If she emphasized “obviously” then she knows he’ll be gone for a while, but if she emphasized “today,” maybe he’s just sick.
Drew thought about talking to Jeff and Tommy about Trevor’s absence at lunch but figured neither of them would care. Besides, he was desperate to keep his secret. He realized that he couldn’t even tell this to his best friends – not ever.
Suddenly, a short, pudgy classmate named Jonathan came rushing over to their table.
“Tell me you guys heard,” Jonathan said, out of breath yet still attempting to whisper.
“What are you talking about?” asked Tommy.
“About Trevor,” Jonathan clarified. “He got suspended for cheating on that science quiz. He might even get kicked out of school for good.”
“Are you serious?” asked Jeff.
“Yeah, he was using cheat sheets all year,” said Jonathan. “Everyone knows it. He had to come to school over the weekend to have a meeting with Mrs. Steinbeck and the principal.” Jonathan was obviously happy to find an audience for his gossip.
“Man, how bad would that be? My parents would kill me if they caught me cheating,” said Tommy, laughing.
“Yeah,” Jonathan continued, “and his parents aren’t gonna let him play football anymore. Jada lives on his street, and she said she was talking to Trevor’s sister, and Trevor’s sister said she had to leave the house because Trevor was getting screamed at so bad. But –”
“Boys,” boomed a voice from behind them, “I didn’t hear you talking about rumors, did I? That will not be tolerated, not even in the lunchroom. Mind your own business.”
“Sorry, Mr. Barker,” said the boys. Without another word, Jonathan waddled back to his normal seat.
Mr. Barker’s words reminded Drew that the school had recently begun a new campaign against rumors. The entire school had an assembly at the beginning of the year. They watched a short video about the problems rumors can cause, and then a guest speaker, a young woman just out of college, talked about rumors. There were now flyers posted all over the school that said “Rumors Ruin Lives,” and Drew knew this was important to remember. He also knew that at least one thing Jonathan said wasn’t true. Trevor hadn’t been using a cheat sheet all year long – he hadn’t been using a cheat sheet at all.
As Drew ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the silent lunch table – all the boys now afraid to make a sound – he looked around. He saw a yellow-haired girl walking to the lunch line from the middle school side of the cafeteria. In her left hand was a pink notebook on which the name Skylar Jansen was written in neat, sparkly letters. Every time Drew had seen Skylar, he had been with Tommy and Jeff. He hadn’t had a chance to speak to her alone – until now.
“I’m gonna grab another chocolate milk,” he said, hopping up from his chair. He had seen Jason twice since discovering he was a potential artist, but both times he chickened out and was unable to ask him. Jason was intimidating, but something about Skylar seemed friendlier to Drew. Besides, luck had been going his way.
“Hey, you’re Skylar, right?” he said without an ounce of nervousness.
She looked down at her folder, which she was now holding close to her chest with her left arm. “How’d you guess?”
Her sarcastic tone may have thrown Drew off on another day, but not today. After all this time, he was still no closer to finding the Mystery Artist, and he wasn’t going to blow this chance.
“I think I have your science book. I mean, the one you had last year.”
“Is that so?” she said, sounding uninterested.
“Yeah, and I don’t like science class, but I love the book. I don’t know if you ever noticed, but there’s this awesome drawing in there.”
Skylar’s expression changed. A glow seemed to flicker in her light green eyes.
“It’s a drawing of a beach,” Drew continued with growing excitement. “It’s just in pencil, but it’s one of the best pictures I’ve ever seen.”
“I loved that picture,” said Skylar, smiling. “When I got bored in Mrs. Steinbeck’s class I would always flip to page …”
“One thirty-nine,” Skylar and Drew said in unison.
Drew couldn’t believe it! His search was over. He had found the Mystery Artist.
“So, are you the artist?” he asked, positive the answer was yes. He was already preparing to thank Skylar for drawing the picture.
“Oh, no, I’m not an artist. But I did like the picture,” she said, glancing over at her lunch table, as if she were checking to see if her friends were still there.
“Oh,” said Drew. The simple words crushed him, but he decided to keep talking to Skylar. After all, she did like the picture, and it’s always nice to find someone who likes the same things you do. They talked a little about the picture, and Drew told her about passing her house every day because of the bridge closure.
“Yeah, there are so many people passing by my house ever since they closed that bridge,” she said. “It’s kinda funny. I people-watch from my front porch sometimes.”
Drew considered telling her about his search, but as soon as she paid for her soft pretzel, she said, “See ya,” and hurried back to her table.
Drew was greeted at his table by the shocked faces of Jeff and Tommy. They couldn’t believe he had just talked to an older girl. And not just any older girl – this was Skylar Jansen. Drew didn’t see it like that, though. He was simply on his mission. And although Skylar wasn’t the Mystery Artist, Drew was now one step closer to finding out who was.
During Spanish class that afternoon, he wrote the five potential artists’ names on a blank notecard he found in his locker. Then he crossed out Skylar Jansen’s name with a black marker. Without Señora Machado noticing, Drew pulled his wallet from his pocket. The wallet was one of his most prized possessions, given to him by his cousin Peter, who lived in Florida. Last summer, when Drew and his mom were visiting Drew’s grandparents in Orlando, Peter bought a sleek new wallet at the mall and gave Drew the old one.
The wallet was worn and well-used, but it was still functional. The brown leather was smoother in some sections than in others. When the tri-fold wallet unfolded there was a small pouch on the right flap that could only be opened by a button-like snap. Drew had been keeping his loose change in the pouch, but he quietly removed the coins and slid them into his pocket. Then he put his list inside his wallet’s hidden pouch. He wiggled the wallet back into his pocket and tried to refocus his attention on class, but all he could think about now was how much closer he was to finding the Mystery Artist.
****
Drew stowed away in his room until his mom called him down for dinner. The meal was already on the table as Drew sat down.
“We’re eating a little early tonight because I have plans, remember?” said Penny.
“Yeah.”
“And I was running a little late getting ready, so we only have about fifteen minutes before your dad comes to pick you up.”
“That’s fine.”
“So what happened with Trevor Lambert?”
Drew stared at his mom in amazement, a string of spaghetti dangling from his mouth.
“Mrs. Gray called me to ask about the next PTA meeting and ended up telling me Trevor got suspended. That’s why I’m running late.” She leaned over and poured some milk into Drew’s glass. Drew remained quiet.
“Well, are you going to tell me what happened?” his mom asked playfully.
“I don’t know. I think he got caught with a cheat sheet or something.”
Drew shoved more spaghetti into his mouth, hoping to avoid answering any more questions. He kept his eyes down, but he could feel his mom’s gaze on him. He expected her to rattle off more questions, but none came.
“My friend Donna – you’ve met her – she and I are going to see a play tonight. I haven’t been out with her in two years, and we’ve been planning this night ever since we heard A Doll’s House was being performed downtown. We both love that play.”
“If you’ve already seen it, why do you wanna see it again?” Drew asked, temporarily forgetting that they had been talking about Trevor seconds ago.
“Why do you watch your favorite zombie movies over and over again? Part of the reason is because it’s simply enjoyable. But more than that, the play is different every time I see it. The first time I saw it I was about fifteen, and I thought it was about women’s rights. Then when I was eighteen I thought it was about individuality and the pursuit of finding yourself. The last time I saw it, about five years ago, I thought it was about selfishness.”
“So which one is right?” Drew asked.
“That’s the beauty of it, Drew. It’s all of them. I’m interested to see what I think this time. See, it depends what perspective you’re looking at something from. Sometimes, if you look at a situation from one view, you think you can see who’s good and who’s bad. But then, if you look at it from another person’s view, the roles are reversed. You have to think about something more than once if you really want to understand it. Maybe I’m not making any sense. Either way, finish up your dinner. Your dad will be here soon.”
While Drew and his mom finished their spaghetti, Drew thought about what she had said. Maybe he needed to view this situation from another perspective. Maybe from Trevor’s perspective, Drew was the bad guy.
As Penny was cleaning up the kitchen, there was a knock at the door.
“That’s your dad. Let him in, then go upstairs and get everything you need for tonight. And your medicine is right here on the table. Don’t forget it.”
Drew did as he was told and quickly ran upstairs to grab his things while his dad stepped into the kitchen. He wasn’t often privy to conversations between his parents, so he tried to listen when he had the chance. He crept halfway down the stairs so he could eavesdrop.
“Excited for your big night out?” Ryan was asking.
“Very much,” said Penny. “Thanks for looking after Drew tonight. It really helps out.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ll hang out with Drew anytime you want. In fact, I think you should go out with Donna more often,” Ryan said playfully.
“Still, thanks,” said Penny. “But before Drew comes back down …” Her voice changed to a whisper, but Drew could still make out what she was saying. “I think something’s bothering him. A boy at school, the big kid, Trevor, got caught cheating. When I asked Drew about it, his face turned red, so I dropped it. It might be nothing, but if you can talk to him about it, that’d be great.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Don’t pressure him, though. He always gets defensive when we try to push him.”
“I know that.”
Just then Drew decided to head downstairs, stomping loudly enough for his parents to hear him coming.
“And I’ll go over his homework with him tonight and have him in bed at a reasonable hour. And I don’t start work until ten tomorrow, so I’ll just take him to school,” said Ryan. “Hey, have fun tonight, and tell Donna I said ‘hello.’”
“I will.”
“Give your mom a hug, bud. We gotta get rollin’.”
Drew went to his dad’s place that evening. After he finished his homework, the two of them watched a movie. His dad asked him questions about school, but Drew avoided saying anything about Trevor and answered each question as if everything were fine.
He knew his mom was still concerned, so over the next few days he did his best not to let on that anything was weighing on him. But there was still something he needed to do. It would be risky – maybe even crazy – but he knew curiosity would gnaw at him until he did it.
****
Monday was Trevor’s first day back from his suspension. The anti-rumor campaign hadn’t been very effective, and the news about Trevor had spread through the halls of Emerson Elementary like Mrs. Steinbeck’s perfume. Everyone was steering clear of the big bad cheater, but Drew marched right up to him at his locker, tapped him on his shoulder, and said, “Hey, I know what you did.”
“Yeah, dude, so does everyone else,” said Trevor, his meek words projecting into his locker. “I got caught with a cheat sheet, and I got suspended.”
“Not that,” said Drew. “I mean the other thing you were doing.”
Now Drew’s words captured Trevor’s attention. He turned from his locker and looked down at Drew. “What?”
“I saw you copy off Jeff!” Drew whispered harshly.
An angry look came into Trevor’s pale face. He slammed his locker shut, grabbed a fistful of Drew’s shirt, and yanked him into the computer lab entranceway, blocking them from everyone’s view.
“Listen, we can’t talk about this. At least not here,” Trevor said through gritted teeth. He stuck his head out into the hallway to make sure no one was within earshot. “Let’s meet behind the jungle gym at recess.”
Drew nodded, and Trevor released his grip.
When Drew got to his locker, he was met with a barrage of questions from Jeff and Tommy, who had seen him emerge from the computer lab entranceway with Trevor. Was he talking to Trevor? Was it about the cheat sheet? Why was his shirt collar stretched? But he dismissed them all and went to class as if it were just a normal day.
As he sat through the morning classes, he thought about what his mom had said during dinner the previous week. He realized that he had never stopped to think about things from Trevor’s perspective. And while Drew was pretty sure he had done the right thing for his friend, he still needed to know why Trevor cheated in the first place, and, more importantly, why he didn’t deny the cheat sheet was his.
But while Drew stared at the back of Trevor’s head during science class, he began to worry about his pending meeting with the giant. Maybe this is a bad idea. If he doesn’t want anyone to know, why is he willing to tell me? What if he thinks I’m gonna tell on him for copying, and he wants me to go behind the jungle gym so he can beat the snot out of me without any witnesses? Beads of sweat formed on Drew’s forehead, and he could feel his heart thumping hard and fast. He had come this far, though. He couldn’t back down from Trevor now. He flipped to page 139 to sneak a peek at the picture, and he managed to calm down and regain some confidence.
Drew ate lunch at his regular pace and took his time getting to the playground. Trevor was at the jungle gym waiting for him. Drew rotated his shoulders back and puffed out his chest to show Trevor, and perhaps himself, that he wasn’t scared. Trevor scanned his surroundings to make sure no teachers were around.
“Hey, dude, what’s up?” he said.
His casual tone aggravated Drew. He stood with his arms crossed, staring up into the giant’s eyes.
“Okay, here’s what happened,” Trevor began. “It all started a few weeks ago at football practice. I fell over on one of my friends and broke his wrist. It was Kyle Olinski. I don’t know if you know him … But it was an accident … I swear I didn’t mean to. And I didn’t mean to do this all to Jeff either. So anyway, I ended up going to the hospital with Kyle because I felt really bad about it. But the worst part was I had football right after school, then I went to the hospital, then Kyle’s parents took me to get ice cream with them because they said it was nice that I came to the hospital with them. Then Kyle asked me to come to his house and hang out for a little. And what was I supposed to tell a kid in a cast? So I didn’t have time to study at all. To be honest, I was kind of okay with failing the quiz. I even told Jeff during the quiz that I was gonna fail. But then Jeff was trying to be nice because we’re friends, so … I copied off him.”
He paused and took a deep breath, and for the first time all day, Drew almost detected a smile on Trevor’s face. He seemed relieved to be talking about it, as if carrying around the weight of the lie had become too heavy, even for the biggest kid in class, and he needed to tell someone the truth.
“Anyway, my mum always says this thing at home. It’s stupid and everything, but she always says, ‘Every time you don’t get caught for something you did, you will get caught for something you didn’t do.’ And … I guess the cheat sheet was my way of getting caught for something I didn’t do. I don’t know, I mean, I didn’t even make the cheat sheet. But I still felt bad because I was cheating, even if it wasn’t the way Mrs. Steinbeck thought.”
Drew could not believe his ears. As he listened to Trevor’s story, he tried to find some gap, some flaw, to make it a lie. He wanted Trevor to be lying now more than ever.
“But the bad part is that I didn’t cheat just once,” said Trevor, dropping his head and drawing a circle in the mulch with his foot. “I don’t know how much you saw, but I guess Jeff is cool with cheating, so he’s been opening up his paper to me for a while now. And I know he’s your best friend and everything, and he was just trying to be nice, but I didn’t even want to cheat. I almost always study. Sometimes I get bad grades, but, I mean, I do try. But even though I studied, I still checked my answers with his. It was stupid, I know.
“So then, after I got caught with that cheat sheet, I was so surprised. I was waiting in the principal’s office, trying to figure out how to show them I was innocent, but all I could hear was my mum’s voice in the back of my head: ‘Every time you don’t get caught for something you did, you will get caught for something you didn’t do.’ So I decided not to say anything. After all, I had been cheating. So I figure it was coming to me at some point anyway. And I’m glad it all ended before I got Jeff in any trouble.”
“But why didn’t you tell Mrs. Steinbeck the cheat sheet wasn’t yours in the first place?” Drew blurted out.
“I tried, but I couldn’t. She was staring at me, and she looked so mad, and I just … I froze. I’m scared to death of Mrs. Steinbeck.”
“You are?” said Drew.
“Yeah, who isn’t? I dread going to her class every day. Remember when she yelled at you on the first day of school? That was so scary. I felt so bad for you.”
Drew continued to stand in amazement as he listened to Trevor’s story.
“But anyway, it all worked out. I mean, my parents were really mad at me at first. I got yelled at for a long time that first night. But after my dad cooled down, he told me everyone makes mistakes. ‘The good ones just find the good in the mistakes,’ he said. So I studied a lot all week and my neighbor, she’s like a math whiz, she tutored me, and now I finally understand all the decimal stuff we’ve been doing in math.”
After a period of silence, Drew said, “But aren’t you curious to find out how that cheat sheet got on your chair?” Immediately regretting his question, his eyes grew wide as he waited for Trevor’s answer.
“Nah, not really. It could be anyone. Maybe someone made a cheat sheet and got scared before the test, and it somehow landed on my seat. It’s over. Now I just need to tell Jeff to stop giving me a clear shot at his paper and letting me cheat.”
At this point, Jeff and Tommy emerged from the corner of the building where they had been hiding. They had walked around from the inside so they could sneak up behind Drew and Trevor to hear the conversation. Jeff and Tommy only caught the end of the conversation and were obviously lost, but Tommy’s frustration got the best of him.
“Wait, what did you say?” he almost shouted. “Jeff let you cheat?”
“Shhh. Stop, or they’ll hear,” said the cautious Trevor.
“Stop, you really don’t understand,” said Drew, stepping between Trevor and Tommy.
“What don’t I understand?” Tommy snapped. “This is all so stupid and it don’t make sense.”
“Just listen for a second,” started Trevor, stepping toward Tommy.
“What, are you gonna beat us all up now?” Tommy said sarcastically, though he took a small step back. Tommy had a thick build and was one of the taller kids in class, but Trevor still towered over him.
“What? Why would I wanna beat you up? I was just telling Drew …” said Trevor, and he explained everything again.
“So you weren’t gonna beat me up?” Jeff said weakly.
“No way, dude. You’re my friend.”
“Wait, this story makes no sense,” said Tommy. “If it wasn’t your cheat sheet, then who planted it on you?”
“I was just telling Drew, I don’t think anyone ‘planted’ it on me. I bet someone was gonna cheat and got scared. They probably threw it or something. Maybe I sat on it somewhere else and it stuck to my pants. Oh well, who cares, it’s over now,” Trevor said with a carefree grin.
Tommy’s entire demeanor seemed to change instantly. “No way, dude, you gotta figure it out. Maybe someone was trying to get you in trouble!”
No, Drew thought, if Trevor looks into this, he’ll probably figure out it was me!
“You got suspended for something you didn’t do,” Tommy continued. “That’s not fair.”
Drew suspected that Tommy cared less about fairness and more about prolonging the conflict, but he wasn’t sure if he should say anything.
“I’m not worried about it anymore,” said Trevor. “It’s over. I’m back at school, and I just wanna forget this ever happened.”
Drew breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t have chosen better words himself.
The bell rang again, and it was time to go back into the school. Before departing, Trevor said to Jeff, “I’m sorry you thought I was gonna beat you up. Sometimes I hate being big. Everyone thinks I’m some tough guy. I’m totally not.” He laughed at himself, but only for a moment.
Jeff nodded. “I’m sorry, too. Maybe we can all hang out this weekend and play football … two-hand touch, not tackle,” he said, laughing.
“Yeah, that sounds cool,” said Trevor. “I’ll see you guys. I gotta go to the bathroom before class,” he added, and he turned and ran clumsily toward the building.
The three boys continued to walk slowly. The once terrified-looking Jeff was gone, and Drew’s best friend was back.
“Crazy, right? I had nothing to worry about at all. And Trevor’s actually pretty nice. I mean, we were always friends when we were little. His grandma used to live next door to me. He’d be there sometimes and we’d play together. So it’ll be cool to hang out this weekend,” Jeff rambled.
The boys stopped at their lockers and proceeded to math class. Drew thought about telling Trevor he was the one who planted the cheat sheet on him but figured nothing good would come of it.
Even though it wasn’t science class, he pulled out his science book again and opened to page 139. He thought of the beautiful picture, Skylar’s smile, and Trevor’s mum’s saying: “Every time you don’t get caught for something you did, you will get caught for something you didn’t do.”