Carolina paced out from behind our table, looking much like a chic lawyer from some procedural crime drama. “It’s no secret to any of us in the Easton community that our school has had some . . . setbacks over the past two years.”
There was much squirming and squeaking of chairs at this reference to our school’s serious run of bad luck, but no one said a word.
“Time and again we’ve seen our good name splashed in the headlines and dragged through the mud,” Carolina continued, pacing before the board. “Some of the things that have been written and said about this place are, unfortunately, true, but many of them are not. This has unfairly tarnished our image in the private school community, not to mention the world at large.”
At this point she turned dramatically to face the board. “I submit that the Go Green! experience will go a long way toward reversing this negative publicity trend and putting Easton back on the map as a progressive, forward-thinking, community-driven school where the faculty and staff care not only about the students, but about the environment as well.”
A few of the board members began to murmur with interest and the crowd rippled with excited whispers.
“Just think about it,” I put in, standing again. “Front-page photos, not of crime scenes, but of students pitching in together to rebuild something that was lost.”
“Exactly!” Carolina said, snapping her fingers. My chest welled with pride. “Headlines not about murder and mayhem, but about the county’s noble efforts to protect our environment, and Easton’s particular role in leading the fight.”
“We’ll be supporting not only green businesses, but local businesses as well,” I said, standing next to Carolina. “The opportunities for positive publicity are endless, and will cost the school nothing.”
“Not one cent.” Carolina smiled.
“Honestly? I think we’d all be fools to let an opportunity like this one pass us by,” I said boldly, looking Headmaster Hathaway in the eye.
Behind me, Vienna and London let out a whoop, and the left side of the room—the side where most of the students were sitting—erupted in applause. If my MT was among them, I hoped he or she could tell how grateful I was to them for helping me score this huge victory. Without the mystery texter, I never would have known that Carolina existed. I grinned out at the crowd, and it was all I could do to refrain from taking a bow.
“All right, all right,” Headmaster Hathaway said, sitting forward and gesturing for quiet. “Enough with the propaganda, Miss Brennan.”
I felt the sting of his insult, but let it go. It was his last-ditch effort to make me seem foolish, and it wasn’t going to work. I could already tell by the smiles and the confident nods in my direction that we’d turned the board in our favor. Headmaster Hathaway was going down.
Mr. Hathaway took a deep breath and blew it out through his mouth, his chest deflating considerably.
“We will now put it to a vote,” he said reluctantly. “All in favor of allowing Miss Brennan and the people at Go Green! to go ahead with the Billings reconstruction as scheduled, say ‘aye.’”
There was a loud chorus of “ayes” from the board. The students cheered loudly. I think most of them were just psyched at the possibility of seeing their faces on TV, but that was enough for me. I suddenly couldn’t stop grinning.
“Those opposed?” Mr. Hathaway asked pointlessly. He looked up and down the dais as silence reigned.
“The ayes have it,” he said flatly. “Congratulations, Miss Brennan. I sincerely hope you know what you’re doing.”
The large hall erupted in applause. The headmaster stared me down from the front of the room as my friends gathered me in a group hug.
“Omigod, Reed! That was so awesome!” Amberly trilled.
Just as I stepped back, Paige, Missy, and Paige’s twin, Daniel, stormed down the aisle. Daniel passed so close to me his jacket brushed my hand. I recoiled like I’d been burned, his violent temper tantrums down on St. Barths all but seared into my memory.
Paige and Missy barreled on, but he stopped, looking me up and down like I was vermin. “You’re in way over your head, Podunk,” he spat. Then he yanked his jacket closed and followed his twin outside, letting the door bang shut firmly behind him.
SUPPORT
Twilight was just descending on the Easton campus as I sat down on one of the many stone benches dotting the quad. The air was warm and scented with honeysuckle. It was the kind of evening that made me want to take a deep breath and just be.
Unfortunately, my cell phone had other ideas.
“Hello? This is Reed Brennan,” I said, answering the fifth call in as many minutes. As much as I wanted to cling to the high of our victory at the board meeting, the world wasn’t about to let me. My many bags, papers, and poster rolls slipped out of my hands and tumbled to the ground at my feet. One of the posters bounced off and came to rest under a nearby birch tree. I sighed and just left it there.
“Miss Brennan? This is Lissa Knight.” I racked my brain, trying to remember who, exactly, Lissa Knight was. One of the Billings alumnae, undoubtedly, but I’d just talked to four of them in a row and my brain was too fried to remember anything about this one. “I’ve heard there are some issues with the ribbon-cutting ceremony? I’ve already had my assistant charter a plane for myself and the other Dallas-area alumnae, and if I have to cancel it I need to know as soon as—”
“You don’t have to cancel anything,” I said, closing my eyes and praying for patience. “I’ve just come from a board hearing and I can guarantee you the ribbon-cutting ceremony will proceed as planned this Saturday morning, and all the other events are on as well.”
“You’re sure,” she said. It was more of a statement than a question.
“I’m sure. I promise I wouldn’t waste your valuable time if I wasn’t one hundred percent positive we were going forward as scheduled,” I assured her, trying for my most responsible voice.