The F Factor by Diane Gonzales Bertrand Page A

school TV with the guy who sleeps in class. And his hot-looking sister almost got me killed today driving us home.”
    Instead, he told her, “Not much to tell you, Mom, it was fine.”

CHAPTER FOUR

    â€œF ind a good reason why you
can’t
do announcements, Ávila.”
    Javier turned from his locker to face Dylan Romo, one of the senior football players. The tall guy owned shoulders the width of three lockers. He glared down like Javier had tried to steal a girlfriend.
    â€œI heard Seneca chose you sophomores to be on TV tomorrow. That’s not the way we do things at Saint Pete’s. Us seniors go first, got it?”
    Javier’s mouth went dry, but he forced himself to speak. He had faced his share of bullies, and knew he had to think fast. “We didn’t ask for the job, Dylan. Seneca—uh, Mr. Seneca—chose guys who could practice after school. All the seniors—well, and the juniors too—have football practice.”
    â€œSeniors do things first. That’s how it is at this school. You tell him, Ávila.”
    Javier frowned and almost said, “Tell him yourself,” but Ram Fierro and Omar Narsico, the other seniors in the broadcasting class, had suddenly materialized behind Dylan. Without Javier’s friends behind him, it would be pointless to argue—and worse if he made a senior angry.
    In a slow, steady voice, Javier said, “I’ll talk to Mr. Seneca.”
    â€œDo that.” Dylan pushed Javier aside and swaggered down the hall as if he owned it. Ram and Omar laughed together as they followed behind him. As they passed other athletes at their lockers, they slapped high-fives and made rude remarks. Most guys just backed against the walls and let them pass.
    â€œWhat’s it like to have that kind of power?” asked a rather sad voice on the other side of the locker door.
    Javier stepped out and saw Pat Berlanga opening his combination lock a few doors down. Pat didn’t look up. Perhaps he asked the question but didn’t expect an answer—not that Javier had one to offer. “Did you hear what Dylan told me?”
    Pat shrugged. “He’s right. Seniors always do things first.” He jerked off the lock and hooked it on his shirt pocket. “Just let them talk on TV if that’s what they want.”
    Javier walked closer to where Pat stood unloading his backpack and grabbing books he’d need from the locker. “Mr. Seneca told you and me to do the job.”
    â€œYeah, well, Welita and I watched the TV news last night. Smooth and cool, those guys. No kidding, Javier. You and I would look more like Bugs and Daffy.”
    Javier shook his head. “Not if we practice together. I watched the news last night too. I saw what the anchors did. Why can’t we be like them?”
    â€œGet serious.” His words dripped with sarcasm.
    â€œI am serious.” A sudden anger made Javier’s face feel tight and stiff. “You’re the one who isn’t serious. Nobody said talking on TV would be easy, but that doesn’t meanyou and I can’t do it well … or first. Don’t you think we deserve our share of the power?”
    Pat turned to face Javier. For the first time, Pat looked wide awake, his dark eyes shining with interest. “What about Dylan and the other seniors?”
    â€œI don’t know.” The itchy sting inside Javier’s shoes pulled him back to the reality of being a sophomore. “This is the first time I’ve ever had seniors in a class. We sophomores need to stick together. That’s all I know for sure, especially in a class where everything is new to both of us.”
    Pat scratched his head. “Well, then, can I see your homework? There’s still time if I need to write my practice announcements over.”
    Javier’s shoulders relaxed. He could always rely on schoolwork to give him focus, help him think better. Maybe if he