Senior Prank (9781620957295) by Tom Bunevich

with the governor on his visit, gave scores in six of the categories, such as teacher rating, community involvement, administration strength, parental activity, diversity, and enthusiasm.
    The other four categories earned scores based on the school’s state test grade, grade point average, essays, and student achievement. On page three of the paper was a note from the principal. It asked students to be on their best behavior for the visit and warned that offenders would be harshly punished. As the boys finished reading, the bell rang dismissing the lunch room.
    Three hours later Lamont found himself at his first track practice. Mr. Potts welcomed Lamont. Lamont wanted to find out fast how where he stood. He went to the area where Mohammed Albani, known as G was warming up and practicing his exit from the starting blocks. G was short for Jihad, a name pinned on him for his Muslim heritage. He didn’t like it, but in high school fighting a name you dislike makes it worse. He thought they could call him the entire Jihad word which would be even worse, so he let it ride.
    G was fast. He placed fifth in the state last year in the 200 meter run with a time of 21.53. Since this was his senior year, he was hoping to winning that state championship and practiced feverishly to achieve that goal, but academic excellence was his top goal. He held a 6.7 GPA.
    â€œHey G, I’ll run ya,” suggested Lamont in a challenging tone. “I want to see what I can do. You shouldn’t have any problem. We’ll go 200 meters flat out. I know you got game. I want to see if I have what it takes to succeed.”
    The pair lined up side by side, prepping to race, catching the attention of Mr. Potts. The coach quickly ran to the pair, pulling out his stopwatch. Then, he went to the finish line, held up his starter gun and fired. The pair of runners took off from their starting blocks, G jumping off to a quick lead. By the time they reached the 50 meter mark, Lamont was behind by five meters.
    Lamont knew he needed to pick up pace but G kept pushing and by the mid point was about seven meters ahead. The rest of the team stopped to watch the race, realizing when G ran it usually was worth watching. They thought G would put the young challenger in his place.
    Then a strange thing happened. Lamont seemed to gain second gear and started to close the gap. He huffed and puffed as he ran, closing the gap to two meters for the last 20 meters. The race was on. Lamont pushed but lost by a meter in the end. Mr. Potts then checked his watch.
    â€œ21.44,” Mr. Potts shouted. “Pretty darn good. Lamont I’m impressed. I think with some training and commitment you can do well. Seems like you had trouble out of the blocks. We can work on that.
    â€œMohammed, you’re getting there,” Mr. Potts said, avoiding the nickname, which he knew could get him in trouble with today’s political correctness crowd. “Keep working on it, son.”
    Lamont ran a few sprints, practiced his starts, and headed to the showers, convinced that even though he had lost he had a future on the track.
    Jose arrived home after school to find a surprise in the family driveway. Parked there was a 2001 Toyota Corolla. As Jose walked to the house, his father came out to meet him. The car had 140,000 miles on it, but Jose’s uncle, a mechanic, had inspected it and claimed it to be in good running order.
    â€œDa car is yours, son,” said Jose’s dad, his English lathered with a thick Hispanic accent. “But I go over da the rules. You pay me back $50 a month for 24 months to pay for car. Insurance is $150 a month. You need to pay gas. I want you to take care of dis car. It can be a good car.”
    â€œI don’t have the money or a job, so how I am going to pay for it?” countered Jose, knowing there had to be other rules and regulations attached.
    â€œTwo times a month you will work with me to pay for the car,”