Two cheerleaders in purple-and-white uniforms were standing at the side entrance, waiting to ambush freshmen.
Sneaking into orientation didn’t work out too well. I was about to find out my luck could get a lot worse. What was she doing here? Not even my luck could be this bad. My mom started to say something, but I got out of the car and ran, hoping the redheaded girl wouldn’t see me. When she turned, I caught a glimpse of her face, and the hairs on my arms stood straight up. She wore a maroon T-shirt and ratty jeans decorated with marker drawings. Paul Blofis was greeting a girl with frizzy red hair. I was about to get out of the car when I looked over the steps of the school. She held up her hands in surrender, but I could tell she was trying hard not to smile. “She’s coming all the way from camp to meet you.” Tomorrow you’re off to camp! After orientation, you’ve got your date-” “I can get expelled before I start the school year.” “I’m sure orientation will be fine, Percy, It’s only one morning.” “I thought we should wait,” she admitted.
She was dressed up for a job interview-her best blue dress and high-heeled shoes. She tapped her fingers nervously on the wheel. “You haven’t told him the truth about me, have you? I’d tried to warn him it wasn’t a good idea, but he wouldn’t listen. He’d managed to convince Goode High School to accept me for ninth grade, despite the fact that I’d gotten kicked out of every school I’d ever attended. With his salt-and-pepper hair, denim clothes, and leather jacket, he reminded me of a TV actor, but he was just an English teacher. Paul Blofis, my mom’s boyfriend, was standing out front, greeting future ninth graders as they came up the steps. And remember, dear, this is Paul’s school. “Just relax.” My mom didn’t sound relaxed.
Staring up at the fancy stone archway, I wondered how long it would take me to get kicked out of this place. A bunch of BMWs and Lincoln Town Cars were parked out front. Goode was this big brownstone building overlooking the East River. But there I was Monday morning, the first week of June, sitting in my mom’s car in front of Goode High School on East 81st. The last thing I wanted to do on my summer break was blow up another school.
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