Rumor Central (12 page)

M
rs. Watson was going to blow a gasket. I'd begged her to let me do the makeup work. Now, here I was about to miss yet another class. But I didn't have any choice. Tamara wanted me at the TV station to do another promo shoot. I knew I had to get it together because the last thing I needed was to mess up graduation behind this show. That's why I was speeding toward campus. It was just 11:45, so I could still go in to Mrs. Watson and plead my case.

I guided my BMW onto my school's street and immediately slowed at the sight of the cop cars lined up out front. We very seldom had any drama at Miami High. Not because there wasn't any drama, but because most of the kids' parents bailed them out of everything before any real drama jumped off. So it was a shock to see all the police officers.

“What's going on?” I asked after I had parked and made my way through the parking lot. The group of people I asked gave me the most hateful looks and didn't reply. “What?” I said to one of the girls.

Just then, I saw what the officers were doing as they carted out Amanda, Sabrina, and Blake. My mouth fell open. Amanda saw me and immediately tried to break free from the police officers.

“I'm gonna kill you!” she screamed as they pulled her back. “I can't believe you did that, you snitch.”

“Shut up, Amanda,” Blake barked. “Don't say a word!” He shot me a look of pure evil, letting me know that he hated me just as much. Even though he'd stopped Amanda from attacking, the look on Blake's face said he'd give good money to let her have her way with me.

Okay, this was getting totally out of control. I was just trying to get ratings. I wasn't trying to get anyone arrested.

Before I could say anything, I spotted one of the few classmates that didn't have a beef with me. “Sandy, what's going on?”

“What does it look like? The Bling Ring got busted,” she replied, shaking her head as she watched them push Blake into the car.

“Yeah, they got arrested, thanks to you,” one of Sandy's friends said. “And they want to call me lame? At least I'm not a snitch,” she said, before walking off.

“Don't pay her any attention,” Sandy said. “But if I were you, I'd kinda lay low for a minute, because you're not exactly well liked right about now.”

The way everyone was looking at me, I knew Sandy was telling the truth.

“I don't understand what everyone is mad at me for.”

Sandy cut her eyes at me.

“You, too?”

“Naw, I understand. You're just doing your job. But brace yourself.” She motioned up the sidewalk. “Here comes Mr. Carvin.”

The principal stomped toward me and stopped right in front of me. “I need to see you in my office right now, young lady,” he said firmly.

Part of me wanted to resist and tell him I wasn't going anywhere without my attorney, my parents, Tamara, or somebody. But the look in his eyes told me it wasn't up for discussion.

I followed him back into the office. He slammed the door and spun on me. “Do you have any idea the damage you are doing to this school's reputation?”

“By what? Reporting the news? I mean, you were all behind me when I was making you look good, and getting the school all kinds of publicity.”

He took a deep breath like he was trying to weigh his words. “Holding a school concert is quite different from that gossip garbage you're spewing on television.”

“No disrespect, but are you mad because they're doing it or because they were busted?” I asked. He was making me sick, trying to act all self-righteous.

He stood up straight like he was offended. “Of course I don't condone bad behavior, but when you shine a negative light on this school, I have to be concerned. And since you took on that show, that's all you've been doing.”

“No, not once have I mentioned Miami High,” I replied. “In fact, I made it a point not to mention the school.”

“Well, the newspapers know. You didn't exactly make it hard for them to find out. I've been dealing with reporters all day.”

“Well, that's beyond my control.” I was having trouble understanding how I was the one making the school look bad. If anything, the cheerleaders, the Bling Ring, they were the ones making the school look bad.

Mr. Carvin took a deep breath like he was going to try another approach. “Look, Miss Morgan, I understand you think you have your dream job, but you're gaining notoriety at the expense of your friends.”

“They're not my friends,” I said.

He sighed like he was super frustrated. “Is this some personal vendetta? Are you mad because the school took away your newspaper job last year?”

“No. I think it's completely unfair how you let Ivory fire me from the newspaper staff.”

I hadn't thought about that stupid job since I'd stopped working last year. I'd done entertainment reports and the editor, Ivory, had had the nerve to fire me because she said I didn't meet deadlines. Personally, I think she was just hating.

“You know I let you students run that newspaper. And even if you had stayed, you would've been fired because of the fight you had a few weeks ago,” Mr. Carvin said. “You know the rules. You cannot be in any extracurricular activities if you're fighting.”

“I wasn't fighting. I was defending myself,” I protested. “But I guess I was just supposed to sit there and let Shay beat me up.”

“You know the rules and just because you think you're some superstar doesn't make you exempt from the rules.”

I stood. “Well, really, as you can see, I'm so over this little job at a school newspaper. I work for a real place. It's my job to report the news, as ugly as it may be.”

“Miss Morgan, I'm warning you. You're making a very bad mistake.” He lowered his voice and leaned in. “I am on the verge of retirement and I'm not about to let some wet-behind-the-ears spoiled brat ruin that!”

His tone actually caught me off guard. “Are you threatening me, Mr. Carvin?”

He stood up, straightened his jacket. “Of course not, Miss Morgan.” His voice was back to sounding official. “That's ridiculous. I would never threaten a student,” he said, much louder. “But I am warning you.” He lowered his voice again. “You're making enemies left and right. And I don't think that's something you want to do. You have some powerful friends around here. Powerful friends from powerful families, so I don't think that making enemies is something that you want to do.”

“Thank you for your concern.” I headed out of the office. Luckily, government was one class where I had paid attention and I had the right to freedom of speech. So Mr. Carvin could trip all he wanted. I knew at the end of the day, there was nothing he could do to shut me up.

W
hen I walked out of the bathroom, my eyes were focused on my damp hands.

“Stupid air blower thingie,” I muttered, wiping my hands on True Religion jeans. By the time I looked up, it was almost too late; I'd nearly stumbled over my own two feet. It wasn't because I had tripped on anything, but it was because of the two lovebirds that stood hugged up in front of me. My heart began to beat at a rapid rate. Just the sight of them made me sick to my stomach.

She was leaning with her back against the locker and he had his arms bent at the elbows, hovering over her head. He leaned in so close to her that there was no way he could've seen me coming.

I couldn't hear what she had whispered to him, but whatever she said made him drop his arms and turn to face me.

“What's up, Maya?” Sheridan had the nerve to say. She was grinning like I couldn't stand her guts.

Bryce just looked at me like he was some kind of idiot on steroids.

“Wow, Maya, so it's like that?” Sheridan said as she stepped closer to Bryce. “You're just going to ignore us?”

“Come on, Maya,” Bryce added. “It's not . . .”

The look on my face caused his words to trail off. I stared at them. The sight of the two of them made my eyes burn. I couldn't stand looking at them, much less having them invade my space. This hallway, this campus, this city even wasn't anywhere near big enough for the three of us.

I pointed at my chest. “Were you talking to me, you shisty dog?” I asked Bryce. Sheridan would get no acknowledgment from me. “I mean, there was no way you could possibly be talking to me.”

I walked back toward them, stopping a few feet away, and putting my hands on my hips.

“You don't get the privilege of ever uttering my name again, you sleazy, low-down dog,” I spat to his face.

Bryce didn't flinch.

“Maya, really?” Sheridan huffed.

I spun on her. “I know you're not talking to me either,” I said.

She flinched and that made me happy. The tramp didn't know if I was gonna spit or slap.

“You should really calm down, Maya,” she said.

“I should slap the mess out of you, that's what I should really do, but then again, you're not even worth it,” I said.

I turned and walked away.

“You two deserve each other,” I said over my shoulder before I made it down the hall and away from the two maggots.

As I walked down the hall and toward my class, I was glad I'd stopped and said something. I realized I needed to get my frustrations off my chest.

I couldn't fathom what the heck Bryce saw in her. She was a total nobody, she lived in my shadow and obviously was so jealous of me that she'd found happiness and satisfaction with my sloppy seconds.

“Dang!” I rolled my eyes at my forgetfulness. I'd let Sheridan and Bryce rattle me and I didn't even get my book out of my locker.

See what the sight of those two did to me? I was all discombobulated. I'd avoided my locker, thinking I needed to keep it moving to blow off some steam. But the truth was I'd really needed to make that stop.

I pulled the classroom door open and strolled inside. It was my teacher's conference period before this class so I knew it'd be empty.

I placed a notebook on the desk I wanted and rushed back out to go to my locker.

My eyes focused in on something flapping in the wind. It was attached to my locker and I wondered what it could've been. When I approached and got close enough I realized it was that doggone picture of me in my lace undies. Somebody had actually printed it out and taped it to my locker.

I was firecracker hot!

“Ugh” I screamed, snatching the paper down.

A few heads turned.

Some people stared, but I didn't care.

I also didn't miss those who snickered. Who knew how long the picture had been taped to the outside of my locker. It was such a good thing that I hadn't seen this before. If I had come to my locker and found this, it would've been on in the middle of the hallway.

“I can't believe that nasty prick,” I said as I snatched the picture down.

“What are you looking at?” I barked at one of my classmates who had walked up and was trying to get a closer look.

I balled the photocopy up. I wanted to kill Bryce and Sheridan! This was all their fault. If
he
understood boundaries, if
she
valued our friendship, none of this would've happened.

After I opened the locker and grabbed the book, it hit me. I knew the perfect plan for revenge, at least for Sheridan. I'd been leaning against it, but all bets were off with this latest move.

I slammed the locker shut and rushed toward class with new inspiration. Finally, I'd get the last word, and the last laugh!

W
hen I sat at my desk and heard the two most dreaded words a teacher could utter, I couldn't imagine anything worse. A pop quiz that I wasn't prepared for seemed more than just unfair, it seemed downright wrong.

I looked around the crowded classroom. Why was I the only one who seemed unprepared? This had caught me completely off guard, but everyone else seemed just fine. Not a single other person seemed bothered.

“Okay, clear your desks, nothing but pencils,” the teacher said.

I was so mad at him. A pop quiz should not have been part of the lesson plan, especially since I was so behind with my studying, and reading, and most things related to all my classes actually.

Everyone else eagerly cleared books, notepads, and papers from their desks.

I wanted to bolt from the classroom and never, ever come back. Where was a fire drill when I needed one? The teacher stood near the front of his desk and waited for everyone to appear ready.

I wondered if continuing to rummage through my book bag would delay this pop quiz even more. The joke was on me because he apparently wasn't waiting on everyone, just most people. I still wasn't done looking through my bag when someone laid the pop quiz on my desk.

I kept a sheet, then passed the rest back behind me. When I glanced down at the paper, I wanted to cry. Nothing looked familiar! How far behind had I fallen?

The problems on the sheet of paper looked like a foreign language to me. But to my left, and to my right, heads were bowed and people were writing on their papers.

I reread the first question and my head began to hurt. When had we covered this?

I thought about falling onto the floor and faking a seizure, but the thought of my Gucci black silk dress touching the floor was enough to make me squash that idea real fast.

Suddenly a loud knock on the door pulled everyone's attention away from their papers.

Our teacher got up and walked to the door. When he pulled it open, two men in suits stood there. It wasn't until they flashed badges that I heard voices gasp in the classroom.

“Hi, I'm Detective Greene and this is my partner, Detective Peterson. We're here because we need to speak with one of your students,” the man said.

Just then, the assistant principal, Mrs. Young, squeezed between them and walked into the room.

“Mr. Griggs, these officers need to talk with Maya Morgan,” she said. Even though their voices were low, they sucked at whispering so everyone in the class heard them. When they turned and looked at me, I felt every eye in the room focus in on me, too.

“Maya, you need to go with these officers,” Mr. Griggs said.

The whispers and chatter started instantly.

“OMG, what did she do?”

“Is she snitching, again?”

“This is too much!”

I slowly stood and made my way toward them. With each step I took, I felt like I was walking a plank, like I had done something wrong. I had no idea what they wanted, but just like everyone else in the room, I was sure it had something to do with either the Bling Ring or the cheer escort stories. I could only imagine that by the time the lunch bell rang, I'd be the center of tons of school gossip.

“Where's your quiz?” Mr. Griggs had the nerve to ask.

“I didn't get a chance to finish it,” I stammered.

“Well, of course not, but turn in what you have so far,” he said.

“Yeah, but I don't want . . .”

“Sir,” one of the detectives said, acting irritated at our exchange.

Mr. Griggs stepped aside, glaring at me as I walked by and left the room with Mrs. Young and the detectives.

Tamara had already told me that if I was ever questioned about any of my stories, I needed to keep my mouth shut. But it had been a couple of weeks since the Bling Ring bust and nothing had happened. And as far as I knew, Evian and her crew hadn't even been questioned by police, so I'd thought I was in the clear with the cheer story. And I figured if they'd needed any information from me about the Bling Ring, it would've been right after they made their arrests.

“Is there an office we can use?” one of the detectives asked Mrs. Young.

“Oh, yes, come this way. We can talk in here,” she said and guided us into a side door that led to a hall that connected the administrative offices.

I was grateful for that. The last thing I wanted was to be paraded in front of everyone who may have been in the main office. I was sure those busters in my class were already texting and tweeting that I'd left to talk to cops, but I didn't need everyone all up in my business any more than necessary.

After I was seated at the small conference table, the first detective immediately began talking.

“Miss Morgan, we won't hold you long. We just have some questions about the so-called Bling Ring. We need to know if you have ever heard your classmates talk about the Royal Oaks subdivision?”

“I don't know anything more than what I said in the story,” I said.

They looked at each other.

“But around campus you never heard them talk about some of the places besides houses that belonged to celebrities?” the second officer threw in.

“I didn't know any of those students,” I lied.“I mean, sure we all attend the same school, but this is a big campus. All I did was follow the tips that led to what was going on.” Yeah, I'd shared their business with the station, but I wasn't about to give the cops any additional information. I had enough folks out for blood from me as it was.

“Miss Morgan, if you know anything about these crimes, you have an obligation to tell us,” the first detective said.

I shrugged. “I wish I could tell you something, but I don't know anything.”

Both of the detectives looked exasperated.

Mrs. Young nodded. I didn't know if that was encouragement or a signal that I had done a good job. If I had known what was coming next, I would've dragged this questioning out a lot longer.

“Well, that's all we have for now. You can go back to class,” one of the detectives said.

My head whipped in the direction of Mrs. Young.

She got up from the chair and rubbed her hands together.

“Okay, Maya, thank you. I will send you back with a slip,” she said.

Back to class? That was the last place I wanted to go. Why hadn't they questioned me more? Should I yell out something to make them stay? Should I tell them about Bali? Naw, I couldn't stand him anymore, but I wasn't trying to get him thrown in jail. It was too late to do anything anyway because they were already up and headed toward the door.

I sulked behind Mrs. Young and followed her into her office. She gave me the slip and I left and headed back to class.

As I walked down the hall, I wished I was anyplace but school. I thought about just ducking out and going home, but Mrs. Watson's makeup test was next period and if I missed it, there would be no more chances. When I reached my classroom, I stopped outside and took a deep breath.

I knocked on the door and was highly disappointed when my teacher pulled the door open.

“Oh, Maya, that was quick, I didn't expect to see you again until tomorrow,” he said, waving me in, then handing me my quiz back.

“Don't take long to rat someone out,” someone yelled from the back of the room.

“Snitch!” another person said.

“That's why you have butt-naked pictures on Instagram!” someone else called out.

Mr. Griggs tried to settle everyone down, but I just tuned them all out. There was no point in wasting time trying to figure out who had said what. I knew they were probably saying what everyone else felt but couldn't bring themselves to say to my face.

Whatever
, I told myself as I turned my attention back to the pop quiz I was destined to flunk.