effort.”
“But that’s a violation of freedom of the press. You can’t ask me not to do the story.”
“I’m not ordering you to be silent. I’m asking you, as a citizen of this school, not to tip off the bad guys. Talk it over with Mr. McPune, he’s your faculty adviser.”
Note to self, Mr. Klimchock thinks. Threaten McPune later. The paper can’t print one word about this.
Back in his office, with only a few minutes left in the period, Mr. Klimchock booms, “Finishing up. Our goal right now is to capture as many of the enemy as possible, and make examples of them. To do that, we’re going to set a trap. This weekend, when the building is empty, technicians will install hidden video cameras in each of your classrooms. No matter what personal opinions you may hold”—he sears Mr. Watney and Ms. Singh with two consecutive glares— “you will keep this plan secret. You WILL NOT warn the students about the cameras, because you will remember which side you’re on. If that’s not enough, I’ll add one more encouragement: if any of you tell your students in spite of my warnings, I’ll find out, and you’ll find yourselves not only unemployed, but unemployable. Even the all-powerful teachers’ union can’t protect people who aid and abet cheaters.”
Sensing that the others aren’t quite as exhilarated as he is—Ms. Singh has her head in her hands and she’s shaking it from side to side—he shifts gears and tacks on an inspiring conclusion. “This isn’t forever, my good instructors. It’s just a surgical strike. We’ll rid ourselves of the creeping menace and terrify the others so thoroughly that they’ll walk the line for the rest of their lives. Just as Herr Franklin hoped, this will be a valuable educational experience. The floor is about to drop from beneath the feet of some very deserving students—and I wouldn’t be surprised if we find some unexpected faces caught in our net. Honesty will prevail at Lincoln High. Thanks for coming, everybody.”
As the teachers file out—their opposition expressed only in the noisy clenching of paper bags—Mr. Klimchock pops the CD of Guys and Dolls into his boom box. They’re out in the hall by the time he starts singing along, but they can hear his vigorous, piercing tenor , “When you see a guy reach for stars in the sky . . .”
RULE #6: Your old, noncheating friends may annoy you with their tedious, narrow-minded attitudes. The best approach is to just drop them, before you get in an argument and they report you. Screw them if they can’t accept the new you! Snakes shed their old skin as they grow, right? Change is a fact of life. Learn to accept it.
Chapter 6
Just another ordinary AP calculus test, ∫(2sec 2 x— 5csc 2 x)dx. A bit hard to make it out, though, because of the weird angle. Next time they definitely have to find a better place for the camera than Karl’s wrist.
“What’s that?” Vijay asks, pointing to a tiny squiggle on his laptop screen. “Does it say ‘squared’ or ‘cubed’?”
“Can’t tell,” Noah replies—but Karl, sixty yards away in Mr. Imperiale’s classroom, obligingly shifts his hand, and the itty-bitty exponent is revealed to be a 2.
Blaine’s parked car sways. It’s Cara, leaning against the door. “Is this study hall?” she asks through the window.
“Ssh! The test is next period,” Blaine says as the three scholars industriously copy Karl’s solution onto their tiny cheat sheets.
Upstairs, meanwhile, Karl performs his role so smoothly that Mr. Klimchock, studying the monitor in his office, detects nothing.
There’s one hairy moment, though, when Mr. Imperiale hovers over Karl as he works. The hairiness is due to the fact that Karl’s shirt cuff has slipped back a centimeter, revealing the front end of the small black camera.
As soon as he notices, Karl starts to sweat. He must hide the camera without calling attention to it, immediately.
Inspired, he yawns and
“But that’s a violation of freedom of the press. You can’t ask me not to do the story.”
“I’m not ordering you to be silent. I’m asking you, as a citizen of this school, not to tip off the bad guys. Talk it over with Mr. McPune, he’s your faculty adviser.”
Note to self, Mr. Klimchock thinks. Threaten McPune later. The paper can’t print one word about this.
Back in his office, with only a few minutes left in the period, Mr. Klimchock booms, “Finishing up. Our goal right now is to capture as many of the enemy as possible, and make examples of them. To do that, we’re going to set a trap. This weekend, when the building is empty, technicians will install hidden video cameras in each of your classrooms. No matter what personal opinions you may hold”—he sears Mr. Watney and Ms. Singh with two consecutive glares— “you will keep this plan secret. You WILL NOT warn the students about the cameras, because you will remember which side you’re on. If that’s not enough, I’ll add one more encouragement: if any of you tell your students in spite of my warnings, I’ll find out, and you’ll find yourselves not only unemployed, but unemployable. Even the all-powerful teachers’ union can’t protect people who aid and abet cheaters.”
Sensing that the others aren’t quite as exhilarated as he is—Ms. Singh has her head in her hands and she’s shaking it from side to side—he shifts gears and tacks on an inspiring conclusion. “This isn’t forever, my good instructors. It’s just a surgical strike. We’ll rid ourselves of the creeping menace and terrify the others so thoroughly that they’ll walk the line for the rest of their lives. Just as Herr Franklin hoped, this will be a valuable educational experience. The floor is about to drop from beneath the feet of some very deserving students—and I wouldn’t be surprised if we find some unexpected faces caught in our net. Honesty will prevail at Lincoln High. Thanks for coming, everybody.”
As the teachers file out—their opposition expressed only in the noisy clenching of paper bags—Mr. Klimchock pops the CD of Guys and Dolls into his boom box. They’re out in the hall by the time he starts singing along, but they can hear his vigorous, piercing tenor , “When you see a guy reach for stars in the sky . . .”
RULE #6: Your old, noncheating friends may annoy you with their tedious, narrow-minded attitudes. The best approach is to just drop them, before you get in an argument and they report you. Screw them if they can’t accept the new you! Snakes shed their old skin as they grow, right? Change is a fact of life. Learn to accept it.
Chapter 6
Just another ordinary AP calculus test, ∫(2sec 2 x— 5csc 2 x)dx. A bit hard to make it out, though, because of the weird angle. Next time they definitely have to find a better place for the camera than Karl’s wrist.
“What’s that?” Vijay asks, pointing to a tiny squiggle on his laptop screen. “Does it say ‘squared’ or ‘cubed’?”
“Can’t tell,” Noah replies—but Karl, sixty yards away in Mr. Imperiale’s classroom, obligingly shifts his hand, and the itty-bitty exponent is revealed to be a 2.
Blaine’s parked car sways. It’s Cara, leaning against the door. “Is this study hall?” she asks through the window.
“Ssh! The test is next period,” Blaine says as the three scholars industriously copy Karl’s solution onto their tiny cheat sheets.
Upstairs, meanwhile, Karl performs his role so smoothly that Mr. Klimchock, studying the monitor in his office, detects nothing.
There’s one hairy moment, though, when Mr. Imperiale hovers over Karl as he works. The hairiness is due to the fact that Karl’s shirt cuff has slipped back a centimeter, revealing the front end of the small black camera.
As soon as he notices, Karl starts to sweat. He must hide the camera without calling attention to it, immediately.
Inspired, he yawns and
Similar Books
