The Scandal (Theodore Boone 6)

He was thirteen and unwilling to grow older. The entire week had been about the future, about testing for placement in high school and the mysteries of the ninth grade. Theo liked where he was in life. He loved scouting and camping. He liked his school and his friends and teachers. He liked being a boy on a bike zipping around the town. If he got into trouble his excuse was always, “Hey, I’m just a kid.” That worked most of the time.

Why couldn’t a kid stay thirteen forever?

The forest grew still as the animals and beasts fell asleep. Theo, too, finally drifted away.

Chapter 8

For the next two weeks, school life was normal as the eighth graders recovered from the ordeal of being tested. In fact, the tests were so unpleasant they were never discussed. But they were not forgotten. The scores would be ready “in about two weeks,” according to Mr. Mount and the other teachers. As the days passed, a soft drumbeat began as the countdown gained momentum. Every student was convinced he or she had bombed the tests and would be sent straight to the “slow track,” a fate that meant utter failure and embarrassment. A few, namely Woody, boasted of deliberately blowing the tests so they could be deemed dummies and practically ignored in high school. Mr. Mount said things didn’t work that way. Those on the Remedial track received a lot of attention, as did those in Honors.

One morning in homeroom, Mr. Mount finally delivered the solemn news. “Hey, everybody, I have the test results.” He was holding a thick file. Everyone stared at it and took a deep breath. He continued, “As I have explained, your scores are lumped into a pool with the eighth-grade scores

from Central and East middle schools. Students who score in the top ten percent from the pool qualify for the Honors track next year at Stattenburg High. This year the magic number is ninety-one. If your overall score is ninety-one or better, then congratulations. If your score is sixty-three or below, then you qualify for some more interesting classes. If you’re between sixty-three and ninety-one, you will be on what’s called the Intermediate track. Any questions?”

No one said a word.

As he began passing out envelopes, he said, “I’m going to hand each of you your score in an envelope. This is a private matter, something to discuss with your parents and not to talk about during school. Understand?”

Right, Theo thought. Everyone will know everyone’s score by lunch.

He opened the official-looking envelope with his full name printed on the front. There were a lot of numbers, but the most important one was at the bottom: Overall Score: ninety. He had failed to make Honors by one point.

Ike had told him that in life there’s always someone smarter, faster, stronger, and so on, so don’t expect to be number one in everything. Just try your best and deal with the rest. Theo was not the smartest kid in his class. Chase was a genius, a mad scientist who aced every test with little effort. Joey studied hard and made perfect grades. Aaron was extremely bright and very lazy, but always did well on standardized tests. Theo figured he would land around number four or five if the class was ranked, which it was not. Still, though, it was a disappointment not to make Honors.

The room was silent until Woody said, “Hot dog! Stuck in the middle where I’ll get lost in the crowd.”

“That’s enough, Woody,” Mr. Mount said. “Please do not discuss your scores until you’ve talked to your parents.” The bell rang, the boys hustled out of the room, and by the time they arrived at Spanish they knew that Chase, Joey, and Aaron had made Honors, and Theo had not. Darren would begin high school on the “slow track,” which was no surprise to anyone but perhaps Darren himself. He looked devastated and near tears.

Madame Monique taught Spanish and was Theo’s second-favorite teacher. After fifteen minutes, she realized the boys were not paying attention, that their minds were occupied with other matters, so she closed the textbook and gave them an easy written assignment to do in class.

Theo’s father would be disappointed. His mother probably would not. She despised the tests to begin with. Ike would be nonchalant and tell him to study harder, to show the people who ran the schools that he could outwork everybody else. Why was Theo sitting in Spanish and worrying about what the adults would say? This irritated him. So much of his life was geared to pleasing his parents, his teachers, even Ike. Why couldn’t he just do his homework, do his best on all his tests, and let his life run its course without worrying about the adults?

Second-period geometry wasn’t much better. By then the students were openly talking about their scores and who made “it” and who didn’t. Most seemed surprised that Theo had not done better.

At lunch he went to find April, but she was not in the cafeteria. He bumped into Pete, who looked as sad as Darren. He whispered to Theo that he had blown the tests and was headed for a rough start in the ninth grade. He said he might drop out, just like his father had quit in the tenth grade. Theo tried to offer encouragement, but it didn’t work. Pete thanked him, said his dad was doing okay in rehab, and that things had settled down around the house.

As Theo walked across the playground, alone, he wondered how a kid like Pete was supposed to do well on the tests when his home life was in such turmoil. How can a student focus when his father is in and out of jail?

He found April in Ms. Bondurant’s art room, and one look said it all. She was by herself, eating an apple, and when she saw Theo she began crying. He sat beside her and said, “Come on, April, it’s not the end of the world. I didn’t make it either, but we’ll do fine anyway.”

She bit her lip, wiped her cheeks, and said, “You didn’t make it, Theo?”

“No. Almost. Missed it by a point.”

“Me too.” She clenched her jaws in an effort to stop crying. “It’s just that the best art classes are for the Honors kids. That’s all I want, Theo, to study art and to make art.”

“And you will, April. Nothing can stop you from becoming a great artist. There’ll be plenty of courses for you, and for me, and for everyone else. Strattenburg High School is one of the best in the state, for everybody. Let’s get over this.”

“What will your parents say?”

“I don’t care. I swear I don’t. It’s not like they’re sending us off to a reform school. We’re going to do fine in high school.”

“My mom won’t care either. And, of course, my dad is rarely at home. At least your parents care what happens to you.”

“Come on, April. We’re going to be okay.”

“I can’t believe Hallie Kershaw made it. She’s such a brat, and she’s already bragging about it.”

Hallie was the cutest and most popular girl in the eighth grade, and Theo, like most boys, had a secret crush on her. “Is that all you’re eating for lunch?” he asked, nodding at the apple.

“Yes, you want some?”

“No thanks. I really want a taco. That’s what they’re serving today, so let’s go eat a taco, okay?”

“Thanks, but I’ll stay here. I just want to hide.”

“Well, you can’t hide, April. Life goes on.”

They sat in silence for a moment or so. She said, “You know, Theo, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but I feel better knowing that you didn’t make it either. I mean, I wanted you to do well and all, so don’t get me wrong. It’s just that you’re about the only close friend I have around here. I guess this means we’ll have some of the same classes next year.”

“I know, I know. My dad always says, ‘Misery loves company.’ So I understand. Right now we have a lot of company. Let’s go get a taco.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re never hungry, but you have to eat.”

“I don’t want to see anyone. It’s easier just to sit here and be miserable.”

“Okay, be miserable then. How about we meet at Guff’s for a frozen yogurt?”

“I don’t have any money, Theo.”

“Okay, then we’ll call it a date and I’ll treat. Four o’clock?”

“I guess.”

“See you then.”

Mrs. Boone looked at Theo’s test summary and said nothing for a few minutes. Theo watched her face as he sat as low as possible in one of the two large leather chairs facing her desk. He tried to look pitiful, though he doubted she would be upset with him. Finally, she said, “One lousy point, and now they’ll keep you away from the best classes in high school. I knew I hated these tests. Now I really understand why.”