Tagged by Eric Walters Page A

I guess somebody might want to explain that to our captain.”
    â€œBut…but…but…” the mayor sputtered.
    â€œI’m not even sure why he’s on school property to begin with,” I added. “Shouldn’t he be escorted off or charged with trespassing?”
    â€œI’m the mayor! This is my city, and I can go anywhere I want in it!”
    â€œNo, you can’t,” Mr. Roberts said. “I happen to know the Education Act fairly well, and Ian is, once again, correct. But as principal, I will extend a courtesy and allow you to wait in the vice-principal’s office.” He turned to me. “If that is acceptable?”
    â€œAs long as he doesn’t talk to Oswald or be present when he’s being questioned,” I said.
    â€œYou really think you can run this, don’t you?” Mayor Dumfrey said, trying to stare me down. “I’m the mayor and—”
    â€œAnd you shouldn’t be able to talk to me or any other student, either, especially when you attempt to intimidate me like that,” I said.
    The mayor started toward me, and Mr. Roberts stepped in between us and stared him down. Mr. Roberts, former Marine that he was, and standing taller and wider than the officers and the bodyguards, was doing a little intimidation of his own.
    â€œAnd my mother also said that I was to stay with Oswald the entire time until she arrives,” I said. That was the first thing I’d said that was a lie.
    â€œThat’s no problem,” the officer said. Mr. Roberts turned to the mayor. “Let me escort you to my vice-principal’s office.”
    Mayor Dumfrey nodded, but looked over at me. “Some people think they’re pretty smart,” he muttered as he was led away.
    One of the officers turned to the other. “I’m willing to bet he never got a 92 in anything.”
    I laughed, and the mayor, still walking away, looked back at me angrily. He must have thought I was laughing at him. He was right.
    â€œThat guy is a piece of work,” the officer said under his breath. He looked at Oswald. “Couldn’t you have worn gloves or used some paint thinner to clean your hands?”
    Oswald went to answer.
    â€œNot a word!” I yelled before he could speak.
    â€œI wasn’t trying to get a statement,” the officer said. “I was just trying to give him some future advice. He’s not the only one who’s unhappy about us being here.”
    â€œOkay, sure. Can I have a minute before we go? I just need to gather up our stuff.”
    â€œWe have lots of time before your mother arrives.”
    I looked directly at Oswald. He made a motion like he was zipping his mouth closed. I hurried into the classroom and found the entire class staring at me. I realized that not only had the door been open a little bit, but they had been listening to everything that had been said.
    â€œCan I speak to Julia for a second, sir?” I asked Mr. Singh.
    â€œYou may take as much time as you need. I would not wish to infringe on your rights.”
    I pulled her into the corner.
    â€œWhat is this—”
    â€œJust listen. No questions. You have to go to my locker. In it is Oswald’s backpack, and in there are some clothes and cans of spray paint.”
    â€œSpray paint!”
    â€œKeep your voice down.”
    â€œBut why is there spray paint?” she asked.
    â€œFrom last night. Oswald is the Wiz.”
    â€œAnd neither of you told me?” she exclaimed.
    â€œThis isn’t about your hurt feelings. You have to go and get it and hide it, destroy it or something.”
    â€œAnd if I can do that, he’ll be all right?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t know. They’ve caught him with paint on his hands, but I figure if they can’t find the rest of the stuff, they can’t arrest him, although they still have him red-handed, so to speak.”
    â€œIs dumping or hiding the stuff