Hurricane Power

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Authors: Sigmund Brouwer
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didn’t dare look around. I hoped Jennifer wasn’t laughing at me.
    â€œIf you want to sleep in class,” Mr. Johnson said, “bring a pillow.”
    â€œUm. Yes, sir,” I said. “I’m sorry. I was up late last night.”
    â€œDon’t let it happen again.”
    â€œYes, sir,” I said.
    He shook his head sadly. “And David?”
    â€œYes, sir?”
    â€œWipe that drool off your chin.”
    Since it was Friday, we didn’t have track practice. Fridays were rest days, according to Coach Lewis. A day off, he said, gave our muscles a chance to rebuild and gave our blood sugars a chance to rise.
    Instead of going to the gym right after school like I’d done since Tuesday, I went to the main office.
    The secretary looked up at me from behind her desk. She had orange streaks in her hair and a round face. Her shirt was purple. She was maybe twenty-five, and she popped her gum as she chewed.
    â€œYeah,” she said.
    I pointed at the computer on her desk.
    â€œI’m wondering if you could print out my registration information for me,” I said.
    â€œYou don’t know anything about yourself?” She popped a bubble.
    â€œYes, but I don’t know about what’s in the computer.”
    â€œYou filled out the form when you registered, didn’t you?”
    â€œYes,” I said, “but—”
    â€œSo why do you need to see it again?”
    I tried not to make a smart comment. “I just need to see it,” I said.
    â€œGot identification?” she asked, popping her gum again. She looked like she enjoyed making me work for this. “We have privacy laws, you know. How do I know you’re not trying to find out about some other guy without his permission?”
    I pulled out my wallet. I showed her my identification. She looked it over carefully. She studied the photo. She studied my face.
    Finally she sighed. “All right then,” she said. “It looks like I can’t stop you.”
    You sure did your best though, I thought. I kept a polite smile on my face.
    â€œSit down,” she said. “This is going to take a minute.”
    I sat down in the chair she pointed to. I stared at the clock and waited.
    I’d had all day—except for my dumb napin math class—to think about this. Not that I should have been wasting any of my classroom time, but this whole thing with Carlos was too strange.
    If his family was here illegally, how had he been able to register for school? I remembered all the paperwork I’d had to go through to register and get on class lists. I knew there was something strange going on. And for that matter, why had Carlos’s address been wrong on the computer? How had he known my dad was a doctor? How had he known where to find me?
    Jennifer told me after math class that she had not spoken to Carlos since our meeting in the library. So he hadn’t learned about my family from her. The only thing I could think of was the school computer. Coach Lewis had been able to get personal information about Carlos from the computer. I figured maybe Carlos had somehow been able to get stuff about me.
    This secretary had just answered one of my questions. I’d wondered how easy it was to get at another student’s information. NowI knew she wouldn’t print out the information unless you had a photo ID .
    That meant one of two things. Either Carlos had gotten stuff about me another way, without the computer system. Or he’d found another way to get into the school computer...
    â€œHere you are,” the secretary said, her gum snapping.
    She looked over the printout before she handed it to me. “You aren’t much of a rocket scientist, are you?”
    I didn’t get what she meant. At least, not until I read the printout.
    What I read first didn’t surprise me. At the top of the printout, I saw my address and what my parents did for a living. That told me that

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