MISC: The Girl Who Saved the World part 63
George Phillies
phillies at 4liberty.net
Mon Jul 24 17:15:26 PDT 2017
Sorry it has been a while. I am cowriting a novel, and my co-author is
highly tolerant that I can manage 3000 words a day on many days, even
though he views this as catastrophically slow.
We shall piously hope that the HitGirlz remembered their bulletproof
underthings.
CHAPTER YYY
Benjamin Franklin Technical Junior High School
Joseph Henry Boulevard, Medford
January 17, 2018
2:30 PM
“Students, there will be an in-class exam this Friday. The test is
through Lesson 60; be sure to review. Everyone has passed that mark
already, so no need to worry.” Mrs. Gostak looked around her Editing
English class. “You should all have your next lesson coming up on your
computer screens. Anyone who doesn’t, please speak up.” Three hands went
up.“James, William, you want to restart the lesson, not begin from where
you left off? Just a moment, I can key that. Trisha, I’ll be with you in
a moment.” Trisha smiled back and lowered her hand.
A few moments later, Mrs. Gostak was at Trisha’s side. Trisha pointed at
her computer screen. “I can’t go farther unless I do those two tests,”
she said, “and I have to do them in-class not at home and it won’t let
me do them.”
Mrs. Gostak poked at the touch screen. “I’ll release the first one for
you. You have to do it all in-class this hour.”
“Got it,” Trisha said. “So if I’m done by three, I can do the other one?”
“The rule is one a day,”Mrs. Gostak said. “Unless your score on the
first one is absolutely perfect.”
Trisha grimaced. ‘Perfect’ was challenging, not something she did all
the time. “I’ll try,” she answered. The math and biology teachers had
been more agreeable. Editing was sort of easy, but it was real easy to
make mistakes or miss things.
* * * * *
Trisha skipped out of editing class. Her first exam had not been
perfect, no matter how simple it had seemed, but she’d persuaded Mrs.
Gostak to over-ride the block so she’d have something to do for the rest
of the hour.
“Trisha!” Ingrid Fairhaven waved hello to her friend and competitor,
Trisha Wells. “Has Mr. Przemysl said anything to you?”
“No news,” Trisha answered. “But don’t worry. You,” she pointed at
Ingrid, “have the lead singer spot. I’m dropping out. I’ve already told
him.”
“You’re what?” Ingrid said in amazement.
“Dropping music club. Quitting singing.Going away. I finally got to hear
the recordings of the two of us, and your voice is way better than mine,
so I don’t see why I’m competing for lead voice,” Trisha said. “Other
than my Mom pushing me and he.”
Ingrid wrinkled her eyes. “But Mr. Przemysl keeps saying how good you are.”
“Helicopter mom. Agreeable teacher. Besides, I’m totally grounded like
forever, so I can’t travel with the club.You know, like I can’t travel
to concerts.” Trisha said.Well, she thought, that is what Dad said.Home,
school, in between. That’s no trips.
“You? Grounded? Why?What did you do?” Ingrid asked. “You don’t have to say.”
“I don’t know,” Trisha answered.“Nothing that makes sense. I didn’t leak
Janie’s super-extra-special City move, no matter what the stupid Boston
Post said.”
“Ooo. Weird. Sympathies.” Ingrid shook her head. “That means also no
birthday party for Kaylee? My little sister will miss seeing you. Other
question. Where did you get the pantsuit you were wearing yesterday?My
mom saw it—she does fashion design—and said it had to be four digits in
the price.”
“I wouldn’t dare go to the party. I wouldn’t dare ask. Can I slip you my
present for Kaylee?” Trisha asked. She looked pleadingly at
Ingrid.Ingrid nodded. “The pantsuit I sewed myself.Would you like one?
Similar, not the same. But you choose the colors. Maybe blue, and darker
blue trim? You look really good in blue. And you need to get me the
fabric and measurements. Fabric gets expensive. I’ll go with your mom’s
call on fabrics. We can’t meet for fittings; I can sew it loose and your
mom can mayhaps pin it so I can tighten it up?”
“I’m sure she can. That’s super generous of you. You’re always so nice
to everyone,” Ingrid said.
“You were an incredible lots of help when I was trying to sing better. I
owe you. But I have to get going. New club today.”
“Which?” Ingrid asked.
“Fitness,” she answered.“Weights. Running. Things I can’t do at home
while grounded.”
“They’re real tough.My older brother is in it. And a lot of boys,”
Ingrid said.
“The girls’ sports teams are in it,” Trisha said. “Except girls’
lacrosse.They think it’s soft. They’re crazy. I have a brother. And he’s
a base ball nines jock. I can cope. Really got to run.”
“Sads on grounding,” Ingrid said. “You need any help, things you need,
tell me.”She stared at Trisha’s back as Trisha headed down the
stairs.Grounded? She wondered.And does not know why?What’s the point of
that? It made no sense.What was the point of grounding someone, if they
didn’t know why?
* * * * *
Trisha knocked on the gym teacher’s door. “Mister Mahoney?” she asked.
Mahoney was an older man, somewhat heavy-set.Not in the waistline, she
thought; he must do a lot of training himself.
“Indeed.And you are? And you want?” he asked.
“I’m Trisha Wells. I’d like to join the Fitness Club.I have machines at
home, but can’t use them now, but this,” she waved a data stick, “shows
where I am in training.Well, that’s what the manual says.”
“Come in.Have a seat.” He took the data stick. “Mercury machines. We
have Silverplates, about the same.” He waited for his computer to
interpret her file. “Hmmh, very good. Very good indeed. I want to see
you go through each of these before I let you loose on the machines
yourself. There’s a running group first, indoor track, by the time
you’ve done your mile-plus I’ll have time to check you out on the
weights. You want credit for this as your activity?”
“Switching over from music,” she said.
“This is a six day a week activity,” he said.“You get one miss a week,
unless you’re sick.” He entered a few lines of data. “I have to check
with Mr. Przemysl on continuity. Any reason you are changing?”
“My singing voice is someplace between ‘badly-played bagpipe’ and ‘cat
having its tail pulled’,” she said, “and I wasn’t getting better, so I’d
rather do something I enjoy than something my mom thinks I enjoy because
she is a really good singer.”
“Your call. Change in the girls’ locker room, be out in five minutes,”
he said. “It’s the boys base ball nines club running first.” Trisha had
a grin on her face. Brian had told her about them being really slow
around the track.
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