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 in the 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, and 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 the 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 Brody looking furious and 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 had taken their shirts off and were waving them above their heads, trying to get on the news.
Through the next hour, Mina stayed in the gym, retelling the same story over and over. Just when she didn’t think it could get any more humiliating, it did. By lunchtime she was on YouTube.
“That was exciting!” Nan gushed as she pushed her tray along the lunch line. She was wearing another black shirt, this time dedicated to a certain sparkly vampire. She picked up an apple, turkey sandwich, and a pink frosted cupcake from the line and swiped her lunch card through the electronic reader.
Mina was too stressed to eat. She grabbed chocolate milk from the cooler and paid, following Nan to their favorite table by the window. They were stopped three times by students wanting pictures and autographs.
“I bet your followers have doubled,” Mina commented as Nan waved cheerily at the group of freshmen, who kept pointing and whispering.
“Tripled! But who’s counting?” She smiled. Obviously, Nan was.
Mina shook her milk, and began to think about her string of bad luck getting to school.
“What’s with the scowl?” said Nan.
“You wouldn’t believe the morning I had.”
“I know. I was here, remember.”
“No, I’m talking about before I even got to school.” Mina began to relay the entire morning’s events, even up to Principal Hame’s office, but Nan only heard one thing.