Principal Hame slumped into his chair and had a moment of awkwardness as his chair slid back three feet from the desk. After a few grunts and pushes, he maneuvered the chair back to the desk. Mina did her best to keep a straight face. “As you may have heard, Channel 6 and the Herald Stadium are here to do an interview with you about your heroic efforts yesterday. What I need to know, Mina, is whether you love your school.”
“I don't understand, Principal Hame.”
Principal Hame coughed. “Well, Mina, what I should be asking is maybe how much you like your fellow students and friends, like Nan Taylor. It would be a shame if our school lost funding and had to cut programs because of bad publicity.”
“How could this be bad publicity? I'm not sure I understand your question. Of course I love this school. I'm just terrified of giving an interview and would really prefer not to. So if you could find a way out for me, that would be incredible.”
“Mina, you have to do the interview. I just want to make sure that you don't place blame on Mr. West for the incident that happened at Babushka’s. If it was publicized that he wasn't there when the accident occurred, it could be seen as negligence and we could lose our most valued supporters and be forced to cut funding or even, God forbid, fire Mr. West. The Carmichael's have a lot of powerful friends. I need to know whether you think Mr. West is to blame for the accident.”
Mina was at a loss for words. “Of course not! He wasn't the one to blame it was my - no one’s fault. Just an accident.” Mina had almost admitted the truth. How could she place blame on an absent teacher when she knew that even if Mr. West was there, the same events would have unfolded with the same outcome? It was just her bad luck that followed her everywhere.
Principal Hame smiled brightly. “Excellent! Glad to hear it. Well, we’d better get you to the gym.” He stood up and ushered Mina out the door, following close on her heels.
“No, really, I'm not feeling that well and would rather go home,” Mina pleaded. In retrospect, she wished she had used the time in his office to try and blackmail him into letting her go home, but it was too late now.
Again, Principal Hame ignored her, “Make sure you tell the reporters how much you love our school. We would love to get a new pool installed you know. Good publicity equals good funding.”
“But I...”
“Now’s your time to shine, Ms. Grime. Do your school proud.” Principal Hame escorted Mina down the corridor and before she knew it she was through the doors into the gym.
“THERE SHE IS!” Nan yelled waving at the reporters while pointing to Mina.
Yep. Mina thought to herself, she was definitely going to kill Nan.
Principal Hame sauntered proudly to the center and took the mic from Vice Principal Merris. “And here she is: Kennedy High School’s own real-life heroine. Wilhelmina Grime!” He started clapping into the microphone, which caused a chain reaction amongst the whole student body.
Mrs. Colbert, the music teacher, came forward and gently led a nervous Mina to the half court line in the gym. Principal Hame heartily slapped her back as if she were a linebacker instead of a five-foot-four girl. Mina choked back a snappy retort, when a bright flashing light blinded her. Photographers appeared from nowhere. The band started playing the school theme song and the whole student body began stomping on the bleachers.
No longer was the air filled with cries of Slimy Grimy, Loser or Nerd, but her name. The students were chanting her full and much-hated, antiquated name, Wilhelmina Grimes; everyone, except for one tall good-looking boy. Mina felt her heart sink when she saw that Brody Carmichael wasn’t standing with the other students, chanting or cheering for her. He was sitting front row, chewing on his lip. Just sitting and staring at her, brows furrowed, leaning forward to see her over the crowd. She couldn’t even begin to discern the emotions on his face.
“Mina, tell us what happened at Babushka’s Bakery, the day you saved the Carmichaels’ son from certain death?” The reporter from the Channel 6 news station thrust a microphone in front of Mina’s face. Another flash from the Herald Stadium newspaper photographer caught her off guard, making her dizzy. But that wasn’t what irritated Mina, it was the reporter's poor choice of words.
“He has a name.” Mina shot back, furious that the reporter would refer to Brody as the Carmichaels’ son, and not by his name. She thought he deserved better.
“Of course he does,” The reporter countered. “Are you going to answer the question?”
“Not until you rephrase your question.”
“Now, Mina,” Principal Hame interjected. “Now’s not the time to argue semantics. They are doing a lovely story on our school and on you because of what happened yesterday. It will be good publicity and may even help us get grants for our library.”
“Of all the self-centered, hare-brained...” Mina muttered under her breath, knowing that no one outside of the few feet around them could hear them over the band. What a game the principal was playing; earlier he’d mentioned a pool and now it was a library.
“Ah ah ah. Now remember it’s for the good of the school,” Principal Hame chided.
“Fine! There was some rough-housing on the catwalk, someone fell into BRODY CARMICHAEL,” Mina spoke his name loudly. “And he fell over the safety railing.”
“And you saved him?” The reporter asked. Did she detect a note of sarcasm in his voice?
“Yeah, I guess I did. I wasn’t thinking, I just reacted. I grabbed for him and got his backpack. I started to go over the railing too, except that Nan…” Mina pointed to her friend who was screaming in the bleachers, “grabbed me and saved both of us. Nan Taylor is the real hero of the story, not me. She even sacrificed her iPhone in the attempt to save us.” As soon as Mina directed to attention to Nan, the reporter and her flock of photographers moved on and up the bleachers toward a surprised Nan.
“That was a brave thing you did,” Mrs. Colbert leaned in and whispered over her shoulder.
Mina shrugged. “I didn’t do anything special. Only did what anyone else in my situation would have done.”
“I’m sure that’s not the case, but you can keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep better.” Mrs. Colbert smiled knowingly. Her short spiky hair and blue-colored, wing-tipped glasses gave her an approachable edge, though her quips and riddles often left Mina more confused than enlightened.
“Why are they not interviewing Brody? I thought for sure they would be all over him.” Mina glanced over her shoulder to see a furious Brody glaring in her direction again. She swallowed nervously.
“They can’t. The Carmichael family has forbidden the newspapers from harassing their son.”
“But I thought no one could silence the media,” Mina looked back up toward where Brody was now sitting. Not a single photographer bothered him. Another flash of light in Mina’s direction, and she was seeing stars again.
“That’s what they want you to think, but the biggest pocketbook speaks loudest.” She grinned, causing her cheek to dimple. “They allow their own names, photos and stories to be printed, but the Carmichaels control all publicity regarding their son.” Mrs. Colbert walked away to settle down Steve and Frank who took their shirts off and were waving them above their heads, trying to get on the news.
