Here’s what I told myself: Sarah’s just upset, and who wouldn’t be? Getting dragged to the office. Having her mum called. She’ll come to her senses and realize I had NOTHING to do with her getting in trouble. Sarah has a quick temper but she doesn’t STAY mad, and I was sure she’d be over it by the time I got home. At least I hoped I was sure.

The whole rest of the school day and all the way through orchestra rehearsal, I tried to plan what I’d say to her. I’d call her when I got home and say…

Actually, SARAH should call ME! She should call and BEG me to forgive her—for accusing me. For not trusting me. For insulting me like that!

But in case she didn’t, what could I say? I’m sorry I didn’t cheat? I’m sorry you think I’m the kind of friend who’d tattle?

Meanwhile, Ms. Bazikian pointed her baton at me TWICE. I hate that.

Then the kid who shares my music stand said, “Bummer about your friend Sarah.” She probably meant to sound sympathetic, but it only made me screech my violin even worse. Ms. Bazikian stopped the entire orchestra and made everyone wait for me to retune. Talk about EMBARRASSING.

Dan

When my dad came home, Mom got hysterical all over again. She was going on about how she won’t be able to show her face anywhere. And she was especially ticked because the PTA something-or-other was coming up and she’s one of the co-chairs. “How will that look with everyone knowing?” Her voice was so high and sharp that I checked my ears for blood.

Then Dad said, “Hey, calm down. Don’t make a federal case out of this. It’s nothing. Just forget it.” He said, “Everyone cheats, Marcie, honey. Read the newspaper, look around you. I bet you can’t point to one businessman who doesn’t bend the rules from time to time. Name a politician, a priest for God’s sake! A president!”

“But…” Mom said.

“But nothing,” Dad replied. “I think that Chen fellow over-reacted.”

Mom continued to whimper, but less.

“I’m sure this whole thing’ll be forgotten by Monday if it isn’t already. But listen, honey, if it comes down to it, I’ll have a few words with Brian Matthews.”

Mom said, “Who?” and I was glad, because I didn’t know the name either.

“Brian Matthews? The superintendent of the whole dang school board? We golf together, you know.”

I shouldn’t have laughed.

Dad looked up and saw me in the doorway. “What are you snickering at, joker? Think this is funny?”

I could’ve kicked myself.