“I mean, why would you need them?” said Nicholas. “You’re so smart, Rock, you’d have aced the test anyway. Right?”
“Right.” The bully’s eyes narrowed. He suspected he was being mocked, but didn’t fully understand how. “Anyway, the point is, he’s a cheat.”
“As I say, Mrs. Schmidt, it isn’t a case of one kid’s word against another’s. Half the third grade has corroborated Ryan’s story.”
Tracy nodded understandingly. She looked at her son, not sure how, exactly, she was supposed to help him, when she saw a light go on in Nicholas’s eyes.
“Check my phone.”
“Excuse me?” said Principal Jones.
Nicholas reached into his pocket. A few moments later, he slid the offending cell phone across the principal’s desk. “Check it. See if the pictures are on there.”
“That seems sensible to me,” said Tracy.
“Very well.”
The principal switched on the device and fiddled about with it awkwardly. “How, er . . . where would I find pictures on here?”
“I’ll show you,” Nicholas said brightly.
“No. I’ll show you.” Mrs. Carson’s huge white arm shot out across the desk and grabbed the phone. “He’ll probably try and delete ’em.”
Watching her fat fingers slide over the screen was like watching Lennie from Of Mice and Men stroke a mouse.
“Here ya go.” She opened up the media files triumphantly, but her expression of smug satisfaction quickly faded. “Hey, what is this?”
“May I see the pictures?” Tracy asked sweetly. “Well, now, as far as I can see, there’s nothing that looks like a math paper here.” She handed the phone back to Principal Jones.
“He’s deleted ’em already. He’s a liar!” Mrs. Carson was shouting. “Half the class saw those pictures.”
“Any files deleted within the last hour would still be in the deleted items folder. I’m sure Mr. Farley would be happy to check that for you,” Nicholas offered helpfully. Alisdair Farley was the head of the school’s IT department. “But he won’t find any pictures because I never took any. That’s the truth. I was playing Angry Birds. I guess because I was near the teacher’s desk, Rock kinda assumed . . .”
Look at those eyelashes fluttering! thought Tracy, rising from her chair.
“Is that all, Mr. Jones?”
Look at that figure! thought Principal Jones.
“I guess that’s all, Mrs. Schmidt. It must have been a misunderstanding. Thanks for coming in.”
OUTSIDE IN THE CORRIDOR, Nicholas kissed his mother good-bye.
“I’ll see you after school. Glad we got that nonsense straightened out.”
“Uh-huh,” said Tracy. “See you after school. Oh, Nicky?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget to bring that other chip in your backpack.”
“What other chip?”
Tracy grinned. “The one with the pictures of the test on it, honey.”
Nicholas Schmidt watched his mother walk toward the double doors. She was trying to hold it together, but he could see her shoulders shaking with laughter.
He loved her so much in that moment he could have burst.