Get a Clue by Tiffany Schmidt

Get a Clue by Tiffany Schmidt

Author:Tiffany Schmidt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abrams
Published: 2020-03-10T00:00:00+00:00


17

While Ms. Gregoire had happily coordinated the visits I needed for my video project, she’d warned me that the heads of the other schools had all been various degrees of smug when they’d agreed. It wasn’t one of their students who’d cause a viral scandal.

I was keeping this in mind as Mom pulled up in front of Chester High. “This feels a little like a first day of school, doesn’t it?” she asked when I hesitated with my fingers on the door handle.

I nodded, not taking my eyes from the brick front of the massive school.

“Well, you’ll do great. Knock ’em dead, and I’ll pick you up at noon.” She patted my knee, and I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

I hadn’t realized how dependent I’d become on my uniform. Hadn’t realized how much it felt like armor. Or how uncomfortable I’d feel without it. Walking into this school in jeans and a Henley was like changing out of pajamas for the first time after being home sick. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn my blue oxfords? It’s one thing to have shoes with presence when they’re your only piece of flair in a sea of dark blazers and school ties, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to stand out at Chester.

Officially I was here to talk to a few classes about the perils of social media. That was my entrance fee for getting access to ask students about Hero High for my project. I’d already emailed the video permissions waiver Ms. Gregoire and I created, and hopefully there’d be overlap between the students who’d gotten theirs signed and the group I wanted to talk to. If not, I’d have to get creative. Because unofficially, I had a list of the eleven Chester High students mentioned on the iLive page. If I had to talk off-record, that should be fine. The upside of a memory like mine was that while video would be proof for others, I didn’t typically need it. Except, nothing about this was typical.

I mentally reviewed my three official questions while waiting in line at the main office.

What do you think of Hero High?

If you had to describe it in one word, what would you say?

How did you form your opinion, or what influenced it?

Principal Nunes stepped out of his office as I signed in with the harried woman at the front desk who was trying to juggle late passes and phone calls and a badge printer that kept jamming.

He grinned, and Ms. Gregoire’s warning proved instantly apt when he said, “It’s Hero High’s own Michael Moore.”

I kept my face neutral. “My name is Huck Baker, sir.”

“No, I know.” His smile faded. “You know, Michael Moore? The documentary filmmaker?”

I did know, but I continued to stare blankly. I’d figured out long ago that nothing deflated criticism faster than feigned confusion. It was hard to make a joke at someone’s expense if you had to explain the critique. Or maybe it was that giving someone a



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