dated collection of broadcasting books, because it was clear I knew something about promo, but nothing about radio. After school I went to Portable Five, where I silently hammered away on my promotions plan as the rest of the radio staff broadcast live programs and ignored me.
My weekend was equally painful and silent. I received no messages on my OurWorld account, no phone calls inviting me to the basketball game. No one texted me to get the latest econ assignment or asked to borrow a kickin’ pair of boots.
By Sunday afternoon I wanted to pull every orange curl from my head. I was officially the most unpopular student in the history of every high school on every planet in every universe.
When I got to school on Monday, I almost broke out in song and dance when I found Duncan waiting for me at the door to our first-period econ class.
“We need to get to the station,” he said. “Emergency.”
“Did Clementine snort too hard and melt Haley’s DVDs?”
A half smile curved Dunc’s mouth. It was the most wonderfulsight I’d seen in days. “Clem got called into a meeting with school admin this morning, and she said she needed to talk to all of us, including you.”
When we arrived at Portable Five, the entire staff gathered in a tight knot around Clementine. She wiped dampness from the red shiny tip of her nose. “Three weeks. We have three freakin’ weeks until admin yanks us off the air.”
“W-w-what?” Frack
“No way!” Frick.
“They can’t do that,” Taysom said. “We’re funded through the end of the semester.”
“We may be funded, but we aren’t wanted.” Clementine shoved a stapled bunch of papers at me. They were results from last week’s lunchroom survey.
I scanned the numbers and cringed.
“Admin was not impressed that of the seven hundred seventy-two students who answered the survey, only four had tuned in to 88.8 The Edge during the past month,” Clementine said. “Given our dismal audience, admin decided the radio station should be dismantled and Portable Five used for storage. This way they can get rid of two of the mobile storage units they’re currently renting.”
“Wait a minute.” Duncan took the papers from me. “How did admin get the results? You haven’t even given this to Mr. Martinez, and raw data only went to staffers.”
Clementine turned her dragon glare at me.
“No way.” I placed my fingertips on my chest. “You can’tblame this one on me.” Clem sent out an e-mail with the report last week, but I’d been too busy nursing my bleeding heart to do much with it. “Until today, I hadn’t seen the data.”
“Apparently Ms. Lungren has.”
“My JISP adviser? How did she get hold of the sur—” The words ground to a halt in my throat as I pictured my weekly progress report, the one that included half a ream of paper with my action plan, notes from my promo discussions with Dos Hermanas, and printouts of staff e-mails. “Okay. She got it from me, but she’s hardly the type to rat us out to admin. She’s all about rescuing me from JISP failure and saving the station. Heck, she wants to save the entire teenage population from unsightly facial blemishes.”
“ Your counselor may have good intentions, but she also has a big mouth and no idea how cash-strapped the school is this year. She asked the vice principal of activities for additional funding to help promote poor, dismal KDRS and showed him the survey to prove how much freakin’ help we needed.” Clementine positioned her index finger and thumb in the shape of a gun, aimed at me, and pulled the trigger.
I lowered my hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d—”
“Exactly, Chloe. You didn’t think.” Clementine swiped another hand at her red nose. “You come in here with your big mouth and lame ideas and screw up everything.”
Frick and Frack were oddly still. Taysom wouldn’t look at me. Haley, the human sound-effects machine, had switched to off. Only Duncan made noise
My weekend was equally painful and silent. I received no messages on my OurWorld account, no phone calls inviting me to the basketball game. No one texted me to get the latest econ assignment or asked to borrow a kickin’ pair of boots.
By Sunday afternoon I wanted to pull every orange curl from my head. I was officially the most unpopular student in the history of every high school on every planet in every universe.
When I got to school on Monday, I almost broke out in song and dance when I found Duncan waiting for me at the door to our first-period econ class.
“We need to get to the station,” he said. “Emergency.”
“Did Clementine snort too hard and melt Haley’s DVDs?”
A half smile curved Dunc’s mouth. It was the most wonderfulsight I’d seen in days. “Clem got called into a meeting with school admin this morning, and she said she needed to talk to all of us, including you.”
When we arrived at Portable Five, the entire staff gathered in a tight knot around Clementine. She wiped dampness from the red shiny tip of her nose. “Three weeks. We have three freakin’ weeks until admin yanks us off the air.”
“W-w-what?” Frack
“No way!” Frick.
“They can’t do that,” Taysom said. “We’re funded through the end of the semester.”
“We may be funded, but we aren’t wanted.” Clementine shoved a stapled bunch of papers at me. They were results from last week’s lunchroom survey.
I scanned the numbers and cringed.
“Admin was not impressed that of the seven hundred seventy-two students who answered the survey, only four had tuned in to 88.8 The Edge during the past month,” Clementine said. “Given our dismal audience, admin decided the radio station should be dismantled and Portable Five used for storage. This way they can get rid of two of the mobile storage units they’re currently renting.”
“Wait a minute.” Duncan took the papers from me. “How did admin get the results? You haven’t even given this to Mr. Martinez, and raw data only went to staffers.”
Clementine turned her dragon glare at me.
“No way.” I placed my fingertips on my chest. “You can’tblame this one on me.” Clem sent out an e-mail with the report last week, but I’d been too busy nursing my bleeding heart to do much with it. “Until today, I hadn’t seen the data.”
“Apparently Ms. Lungren has.”
“My JISP adviser? How did she get hold of the sur—” The words ground to a halt in my throat as I pictured my weekly progress report, the one that included half a ream of paper with my action plan, notes from my promo discussions with Dos Hermanas, and printouts of staff e-mails. “Okay. She got it from me, but she’s hardly the type to rat us out to admin. She’s all about rescuing me from JISP failure and saving the station. Heck, she wants to save the entire teenage population from unsightly facial blemishes.”
“ Your counselor may have good intentions, but she also has a big mouth and no idea how cash-strapped the school is this year. She asked the vice principal of activities for additional funding to help promote poor, dismal KDRS and showed him the survey to prove how much freakin’ help we needed.” Clementine positioned her index finger and thumb in the shape of a gun, aimed at me, and pulled the trigger.
I lowered my hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d—”
“Exactly, Chloe. You didn’t think.” Clementine swiped another hand at her red nose. “You come in here with your big mouth and lame ideas and screw up everything.”
Frick and Frack were oddly still. Taysom wouldn’t look at me. Haley, the human sound-effects machine, had switched to off. Only Duncan made noise
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