Slacker by Gordon Korman

Author:Gordon Korman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

I never thought Cam could get as worked up about anything as he got about video games.

I was technically wrong about that.

“Of course it was you!” he exclaimed right in my face. “You’re the one who hacked into the school site in the first place!”

He was talking about the post on the P.A.G. page setting up the second meeting. I was innocent, but I understood why he would suspect me. My web skills were legendary. And besides, who else would it have been?

“I didn’t do it, man.”

He was red-faced, his eyes practically bulging. This was a guy who got so in the zone that he could ignore a truckload of firemen until they’d axed his door down. “It had to be you! You’re the only one with the login information!”

“If I figured it out, other people can, too.”

Chuck had a suggestion. “Maybe it was the Friends of Fuzzy. We already know Jennifer Del Rio plays hardball.”

Cam shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Jennifer wants the P.A.G. to stop. Why would she call a meeting so we could plan to do more stuff?”

We had a mystery on our hands. The fact that I hadn’t made the post scheduling the new meeting didn’t change the fact that somebody had. Who? Mr. Fanshaw? Impossible. You couldn’t fake the kind of freak-out he’d gone through after Cam didn’t show up in the small gym.

But if not him, then who? Jordan, to win votes? String, so he could work his way back onto the football team? Xavier, so he’d have community service to perform? Daphne, because she believed the P.A.G. could help that beaver she was so nuts about?

I was no closer to an answer as Cam’s dad drove the three of us and Melody to the P.A.G.’s second project that weekend. Mr. Boxer wasn’t in the best mood. The replacement front door had arrived that morning, and it didn’t fit.

“It’s not advanced science,” he seethed. “All you need is a tape measure!”

Technically, measurement was a fairly advanced science, but I didn’t get the feeling that Mr. Boxer wanted to hear it.

“At least the P.A.G.’s going great,” Melody put in sweetly. “Cam, why don’t you tell us about—”

Her brother silenced her with an elbow to the ribs.

We stopped to pick up Katrina. She ignored the open seat with Melody in the middle row and made a point of squeezing in next to Cam in the back. “This is going to be so fun!”

“Picking up garbage,” Cam grumbled, leaning into me to get away from her. “Yeah, fun.”

As we approached the Village Green, I could see right away that this was very different from our mission at the senior citizens’ garden project. A long line of cars stretched ahead of us, dropping off paggers. Daphne greeted the volunteers, checking names against a list on her clipboard. Jordan and Felicia were at her side, handing out trash bags and pointed sticks. When I got mine, I noted that each spike pierced a printed paper that read VOTE TOLEFFSEN.

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