SEVEN 

 

Now I knew it was true. There were plenty of supplies, but Mrs. West wasn’t letting a lot of teachers have them, especially the teachers I liked. That made me mad. I wanted a way to call Mrs. West out.

I remembered how mad I was when Shakira dissed me in the “roses and raspberries” part of the school newspaper. I don’t know why, but a raspberry is a bad thing or something.

Anyway, it’s the only part of the paper most kids read and sometimes there are fights because of what people say. You can only use ­people’s initials and Jeannie won’t print everything people write, but it’s not hard to figure out.

I thought I could write, “A big ol’ raspberry to the wicked witch of the you-know-where who’s hiding everything we need to learn.” Then she’d be all freaked out someone knew.

I went to Jeannie’s room where the box was for “roses and raspberries.” Jeannie wasn’t there, but Aviante was on the computer. He’s the editor. He’s kind of cute, and someone said he liked me last year. I needed help to write it funny so I started to tell him about it.

“Whoa, whoa, hang on,” he said, tipping back in his chair. “This sounds bigger than some little nah-nah boo-boo. Destiny, you should write an article about this, and it just happens I’ve got space in next week’s edition.”

He kept bugging me and flirting with me until I sat down at the computer. I wrote it with Aviante telling me to put in stuff like “this intrepid reporter” and “while undercover.”

We were laughing like crazy.

“But, Aviante, doesn’t Jeannie read everything before the paper comes out since she’s the advisor?” I asked. “She’s not gonna let this be in.”

“We-ell, I was just putting the finishing touches on it after she approved it, but your story is too good to miss,” he said, winking at me. “It’ll be in there.”

“Won’t she get in trouble?” I asked, worried all of a sudden.

“Nah, I’ll take the blame. Besides, journalistic freedom is a protected right,” he said in a news guy voice. We busted out laughing again.