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 


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 

“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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