“Would you like to share what you were reading just now with the class, Miss Hart?” Mr. Young leaned up against his desk with his arms folded and waited.

“No, sir.” I gulped. Please don’t make me read it.

“Miss Hart, are you aware of the rules in this room?”

“Um, yes.” I glanced over and caught Ethan winking at me. I think he thought it would make me feel better. It didn’t.

“Then you do realize that if you don’t read that letter out loud to the class, you must forfeit it to me?”

“Yes, Mr. Young.”

“By not reading it, you will also have to face any consequences I choose to give you. Are you willing to face anything I give you, or would you rather read it now?”

“I’m willing to face the consequences.”

“That must be one very interesting letter, Miss Hart.”

“Yes.”

“Bring it here, Miss Hart,” Mr. Young commanded, holding out his hand.

Slowly, I walked to the front of the room. I could hear snickers and whispering behind me. Red-faced, I handed Mr. Young the letter and watched as he read it silently to himself. Can this get any more mortifying?

“You’re correct,” he said. “This is a very interesting letter. Should I share it now with the rest of the class?”

“No. Please don’t.”

“Look at how curious the class is. I want to remind you that if you can’t give me a good excuse why I shouldn’t share this with the class, I will read it to them anyway.”

“Please, Mr. Young, I’ll do whatever it is you want— detention, extra homework, whatever—just please don’t read that note out loud.” I was getting desperate. I couldn’t even face the class.

“Why not, Miss Hart?”

I looked him in the eye. “If you do, it could hurt someone, someone other than myself. It is my fault for reading that in here when I knew better and knew the rules. Completely my fault. I would hate to have someone get hurt because I was impatient. Please, please, please punish me, but don’t punish someone who doesn’t deserve it.” My hands had begun to shake. I held my breath for Mr. Young’s answer.

He took off his glasses and rested them on his receding hairline, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Congratulations, Miss Hart. In the last eight years I’ve taught at this school, no one has ever given me an excuse as worthy as that one.” Half of his white mustache rose into a smile, and I nearly died of relief. “Your secret is safe,” he said. The class erupted in groans. “I do however, expect you here precisely at 3:00 this afternoon.”

Oh my gosh, I think I’m gonna cry. “No problem. Thank you, Mr. Young.” I headed back to my seat.

“Oh, and Miss Hart?”

“Yes?” I turned around to face him.

“Please don’t be late for class like you were today.” The other students burst out laughing.

“Yes, sir.” Nothing like trying to stay hidden. Sheez, this guy doesn’t miss anything.

As soon as the last bell rang at 2:55, I was out the door and headed toward Mr. Young’s classroom. I hadn’t had a chance to tell Alyssa and Madison about my punishment yet. They would probably be waiting for me, but it was too late now. I definitely didn’t want to upset Mr. Young more by showing up late because I’d tried to find my two best friends. This was one of those frustrating moments when I wished my parents would relent and let me have my own cell phone. Their overprotectiveness was pretty annoying. After all, didn’t cell phones actually save lives? When I scurried into the classroom, I noticed I had two minutes to spare. Phew.

“Welcome back, Miss Hart. Please come in and have a seat.” Mr. Young pointed to a desk at the front of the room. I nervously sat down. “If you don’t mind, we’ll wait just a moment,” he said. “I’m expecting another visitor.”

Obviously, someone else had gotten in trouble today too. But what if I had to sit through detention or something? Oh, no, I thought suddenly. I can’t make Alyssa and Madison wait that long. I’m going to have to call my mom to come get me. “Mr. Young? How long am I going to be here?” My voice sounded squeaky like it always did when I was nervous.

“Just a minute, Miss Hart. That is still to be determined.” Oh, please, I hope I get off for good behavior.

Mr. Young looked behind me, then smiled and exclaimed, “Welcome to the class, Mr. Anderson. Would you please take a seat next to Miss Hart?”

I whipped my head around and saw Taylor standing there. What? Oh, kill me now. This is by far the most humiliating day of my life! I could tell by the questioning look Taylor gave me that he had no idea what this was about. I couldn’t make up my mind if that was good or not.

“Mr. Bradford, if you would be so kind as to shut the door and to wait outside,” Mr. Young said.

Zack’s here too? I glanced at Taylor, who looked back at his friend and shrugged.

“I promise you will see your friend alive and safe in a moment. Thank you,” Mr. Young said just before Zack closed the door.


Six

Detention Or Not? That Is The Question!

Mr. Young cleared his throat.“Well, first I must say thank you for coming. And yes, Miss Hart, I will be informing Mr. Anderson of what happened today. Welcome to consequences.”

Beyond mortified, I could feel Taylor watching me as I leaned forward and put my head in my hands, wishing I could just hide there until it was over.

“Mr. Anderson, do you recognize this?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw the teacher hand Taylor the note. I have to admit that apart from a slight gasp, Taylor barely betrayed any emotion at all, even though he had to be as sickly stunned as I was.

“Yes, sir, I wrote it,” he replied.

At least he’s honest . . . or brave. I couldn’t decide which. The teacher chuckled. “So your middle name is Darcy, Mr. Anderson?”

That is so cruel. Mr. Young is way Old School. I sat up in my chair and looked over at Taylor, but he didn’t meet my eyes.

I am so sorry, Taylor, I thought. If there was anything I could take back, it would be this moment. No, it would be reading that note in class.

“Yes, Mr. Young. I was named after my great-grandfather, Darcy Taylor.”

“I see,” the teacher said. “Well, that is nothing to be ashamed about, son.”

Taylor looked up. “Yes, I know. I just don’t like people making fun of him, you know?” He glanced briefly at me and then back at his desk.

What kind of consequence is this? Is this some sort of reverse psychology, making me watch this guy get tormented? Okay, I get it. I’ll never read another note in class, ever.

“Well,” Mr. Young went on, “it seems we have a problem. Miss Hart was caught reading your letter in my class today. As you are well aware of, Mr. Anderson, I have consequences for students who refuse to read a letter to the rest of the group. Of course, this never stops me from reading the note out loud anyway.”