Ann Martin - Kristy Power!

"We can't let a few people tell our school what to do. If we disagree with their ideas, we need to say so. We need to let our voices be heard!" I paused and looked around.

There were a few seconds of silence in the room. Then Claudia spoke up. "Kristy's right," she said. "If we let them punish Ted for this, what could happen next? What if an art teacher is fired for showing us pictures of naked statues or something?" A few kids giggled, but Claudia ignored them. "I'm serious. This issue isn't going to go away. We need to stand up for freedom of speech." That's right," a voice said from the other side of the room. "This is about freedom. We can't just sit here and let our rights - and Ted's rights - be taken away." It was Cary! I felt so much better knowing I had the support of two classmates. I glanced at Ms. Dewey and realized something interesting. I had her support too. She was still standing in front of the class, but she'd folded her arms and she wore a slight smile. The fact that she had let me and the others speak must mean that she agreed with me.

I met her eyes and smiled at her. Maybe she wasn't completely beige after all.

Two rows over, Merrie Dow cleared her throat. Then she tossed her braids back and started to speak. "I think," she began in a tiny voice.

I braced myself. Were we about to hear from the opposition?

Merrie cleared her throat again and spoke a little louder. "I think Kristy's right. If we don't speak up, nobody will know we even care. And we do. Or at least I do." I stared at her. Merrie wasn't known for being a rebel. As far as I knew, she usually went along with whatever her mother thought.

She continued, her voice growing louder with every sentence. "Mr. Morley was - is - one of the best teachers I've ever had. He makes learning exciting and fun. And I don't think there's a thing wrong with that reading list. If there are books on there that you don't want to read, don't read them! It's your choice." I realized my mouth was hanging open as I stared at Merrie. The rest of the class looked stunned too.

Merrie stopped speaking and looked down at her desk. A blush reddened her cheeks.

"You go, Merrie!" yelled Alan, breaking the silence.

The rest of the class broke into an excited buzz.

"I don't know," Cokie said above the din. "I mean, what if my parents don't want me to read some of those books?" She looked worried.

"Then you don't have to read them," chorused three or four kids together.

Cokie nodded. "I guess that's true," she admitted. Then she grinned. "But I might anyway." Ms. Dewey had taken a seat at her desk by then. Now she stood up again. "All right," she said, holding up her hands for quiet. It took awhile, but finally everybody stopped yelling. "It sounds as if you have a new project on your hands. I hear a lot of energy and a lot of good intentions. But what are you going to do next? Exactly how are you going to make your voices heard?" I gaped at her. Ms. Dewey was definitely not all beige. "From what I understand, there will be an open administrative hearing next Monday to discuss Mr. Morley's case - " Cary didn't let her finish. "Then we need to be there," he said. "And we need to round up as many other kids and as many parents as we can. There's strength in numbers." We spent the last ten minutes of class planning our strategy. Ms. Dewey took notes on the board. "I suppose I could be suspended for this," she said with a little laugh at one point. "But I'm only a substitute. Let's consider this a lesson in, let's see, organization!" By the time the bell rang, we had a plan. And I had been elected our class representative to state our case at the meeting. I walked out of the classroom feeling terrific. I caught Cary's eye and smiled at him - but he didn't smile back. He might have supported me in the classroom, but that didn't mean he had forgiven me.

Chapter 10.

As I walked out of school toward my bus later that afternoon, Cary fell into step beside me. All right, I thought. Maybe he's coming around after all.

"That was pretty great, what happened in English class today," I said tentatively. "I mean, that everybody was so psyched about helping Ted." I added that last part hastily, since I didn't want him to think I was complimenting myself for having started the ball rolling. He nodded. "I just hope we can round up enough people for that meeting," I went on, filling the silence he'd left. "It would be awesome if we could fill the room with Ted's supporters." I glanced at Cary. He didn't seem to be listening anymore. "Don't you think?" I added desperately.

"Look, Kristy," Cary said, a little too loudly. He pressed his lips together and frowned. "It's like this.

What you did was absolutely despicable. Invading someone's privacy like that is just about the lowest thing you could do." "But - " He held up a hand. "This isn't an argument, Kristy. I'm telling you how I feel. And how I feel is that I have no desire at all to talk to you. None." "Oh." I took a step backward.

Cary sighed. "But I can't afford to fail this English assignment. So I've drawn up a list of questions I need you to answer for my biography." He stopped and bent to rummage around in his backpack. Then he pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to me without meeting my eyes. "This is all I need to finish things up," he said. "You may have some final questions for me too." "I - I..." I was so shocked I couldn't speak.

"If you do, you can just write up a list for me. I'll fill in the blanks and pass it back." He shouldered his backpack. "See you," he said. Then he walked off, disappearing into the crowd of kids waiting for their buses.

I stared after him. Yikes. I'd learned something. Playing archenemies had been annoying. But being real enemies was horrible. I felt sick.

I glanced at the list in my hand. He'd probably thrown in a bunch of gag questions, just to be a smart aleck. But no. Every single question - I scanned the list quickly - was serious, straightforward, and, to tell the truth, kind of boring. Not at all like the Cary I knew.

I let my hand drop to my side and stood staring off in the direction Cary had gone. For a second, I had a wild hope that he would reappear around the corner of the building, grin at me, and say, "Gotcha!" But that wasn't going to happen.

That afternoon I once again looked over the questions Cary had given me, but I didn't have the heart to work on answering them. Instead, I lay on my bed for awhile, staring into space and trying to work out some way to make things right.

I hadn't figured anything out by the time our BSC meeting rolled around, but I was still trying. Charlie teased me about my silence during our drive to Claudia's house. "I can practically hear the gears moving inside that head of yours," he said to me. "Careful, you don't want to wear out your brain!" I ignored him. I wasn't desperate enough to ask his advice.

Yet.

In Claudia's room, I tried to forget my troubles and concentrate on running the meeting. But it wasn't one of the club's best days. After I'd called the meeting to order Mary Anne asked an innocent question.

"How's the biography project going?" She reached into the box of Mallomars Claudia was passing around and pulled one out.

Now, what was I supposed to say to that"? "Well," I said slowly, "it's kind of ... actually, Cary and I have hit a little snag." Obviously, I couldn't go into any of the details. I didn't know what I'd say if she asked any more questions.

Fortunately, Claudia jumped in.

Unfortunately, what she said made Stacey feel rotten.

"It's going great for me," said Claudia. "Jeremy is so interesting!" She reached out for a Mallomar. "I mean, today I found out that he once swam with dolphins down in Florida or somewhere. He said it was one of the most meaningful experiences of his life. It was as if he was communicating with the dolphins. Isn't that awesome?" Stacey did not look happy. "He never told me that," she said.