Circle of Silence

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The teacher, sitting with A Team, glances at us. “Whatever you say, Omar. As long as Work. Gets. Done.”

Great. First day in charge. Jagger’s making a fool of me, and Mr. C. thinks we’re screwing around.

“Producer doesn’t take a specific assignment the first week, Voorham.” My voice has a frosty edge. “Except for directing anchor stuff and making sure everything else works out.”

Raul must think I can’t handle Jagger, because he jumps in. “Val’s right. You’re with me. How about doing something on the new skateboard park down by the river?”

Why didn’t I think of that?

“Community story! Carleton’ll love it,” I tell him.

Raul smiles. At the same time, Jagger looks a bit…disappointed. Or maybe he’s pissed that he didn’t get his way.

I glance at Marci to see if she’s paying attention, but she’s filling out the Question Sheet for the football story.

Quickly, I get back to work. “That leaves only one segment to figure out.” After checking my list again, I make a decision. “After-school clubs. It’ll be good for the ninth graders.”

Jagger snorts. “Clubs? I’d rather do something about MP.”

Omar glances at him curiously. “Who’s that?”

“Haven’t you seen the initials chalked around school?” Jagger asks. “Got to be a tagger.”

Marci pushes her paper aside. “MP. It’s Marshall Prep. They’re the first football team we play. They’re messing with our heads. Something you know all about.”

He grins. “Whatever. I’ll do that. Talk to the usual suspects around school. If nothing pans out graffiti-wise, I know a guy at Marshall. I can try to find out if he’s heard anything—”

“No way!” Marci declares. “Marshall Prep does not get one bit of publicity for punking us.”

Jagger tilts his chair back so that it balances precariously on two legs. “Why are you so against me trying, Marcikins?”

Quickly, I shut my notebook. I need to take charge right now so the team doesn’t blow up before a single frame is shot.

“It doesn’t matter whose initials they are. Clubs are more useful for a first broadcast. Five hundred freshmen need to hear about them before sign-up day.”

Jagger lets the chair down with a dissatisfied bang. “Whatever you say. But I’m willing to bet MP is a way better story than a group of lame-ass kids sitting around solving equestrian math puzzles!”

What we need is hatred. From it our ideas are born.

Jean Genet

MP LOG

Six drops of blood. Oh yeah, they looked cool on the page. Real red. One drop for each of us. We sat in a circle and pricked our fingers. Even the chicks did it. Then we mixed them together for a blood oath. Watching each other’s backs is the only way to survive.

This school is such bullshit, man. Ask anyone what they think and they’ll say it blows. But the truth is, everyone’s a phony. They say one thing, but then they join a team or sign up for some club they know is stupid. Not to mention sucking up to the teachers. MP’s not gonna suck up to anyone.

Phantom and I are in charge because we thought it up. Everyone picked names. I’m Skeletor. There’s Hell Girl, Frankenstein, Ghost Face and Zombie. We memorized the oath because that’s how I want to start every meeting. Always a good idea to remind people of a sworn blood oath.

Then we talked about what’s next. I explained my theory that you never do your best stuff first. Everyone agreed: start small and work up to some serious shit.

See, we’re really not the same as the other kids at school. When we say WiHi sucks, we mean it.

I cannot wait to see their shocked faces when it all goes down.