Free Front Page Face-Off by Jo Whittemore

gets away with it.”
    I cleared my throat, both to remind Katie I was still there and to fight off a laugh. “If you’d like, I can interview Hot Stuff as a group.”
    Katie pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head like a makeshift headband and looked at me as if seeing me forthe first time. “You’re the girl who wrote the article bashing the Debutantes last year.”
    â€œYeah, she is,” said someone in the group of jocks. A couple of them shifted over, and Marcus leaned toward us. “She also wrote a great article about me.” He smiled cruelly. “Didn’t you?”
    I groaned in exasperation. “Marcus! Isn’t your parole officer looking for you?”
    A chorus of “Oooh”s and laughter punctuated the crackling of the bonfire.
    Instead of getting angry, Marcus scooted closer. “You know, if anyone had one, it—”
    â€œI’m hungry,” Katie announced, getting to her feet. “I’m going to buy a hot dog, Dana. Come with me.”
    When she sauntered off alone, I realized she’d been talking to me. I stuck my tongue out at Marcus and hurried after Katie. “Listen—”
    â€œDon’t”—Katie held up a hand—“give me commands.”
    I took a steadying breath. “Okay. About that article—”
    â€œI hate the Debutantes,” she said. “So, hooray for you.”
    â€œOh, good!”
    â€œThat’s why I’m giving you from the time it takes for me to get to the stand and back to ask questions.”
    By those terms, I had about five minutes, but it was better than nothing. I slid a spiral notepad out of my back pocket.
    â€œI’d like to start by learning a little more about you.”
    Katie froze, one foot on the boardwalk. “Me?” She turned in my direction. “Why me?”
    â€œBecause … you’re the leader of Hot Stuff,” I said. “People are always interested in the person who makes a group tick.” I watched her face closely. Her eyebrows
furrowed a bit and her cheeks appeared pinched, not to mention the sweat on her forehead. This was definitely a girl with something to hide.
    â€œWell, I’d rather not give you anything too personal about me,” she said, walking again. “Our group needs to maintain some anonymity.”
    â€œFair enough,” I said. “Where did you go to school before this?”
    The question was fairly simple and straightforward, but Katie stumbled a bit on the smooth stone surface of the boardwalk.
    â€œBefore this?” she repeated. “I went to … Fowler. Hot tonight, isn’t it?” She dabbed at her forehead but made no motion to roll up her sleeves.
    â€œNot if you wear a T-shirt,” I said casually. “What made you decide to change schools?”
    â€œI never wear T-shirts.” Katie fished around in her pocket for money. “And my dad got transferred.”
    I frowned. “But Fowler is only a few blocks from here.Why wouldn’t you just stay until you graduated?”
    She shrugged. “It was time for a change of scenery.”
    I lowered my notepad and fixed my eyes on hers. “But … don’t you miss your friends?”
    Katie snorted. “Please, they’re only a few blocks away. I see them all the time.”
    We stopped at the back of the line for the hot dog stand. “Were you in charge of a clique at your old school?” I asked.
    Katie tilted her head to one side and smiled. “Yeah. You could say that.”
    I drew several circles around the name of her school.
    â€œWhat activities are you involved in besides Hot Stuff? I heard you mentioning NFP. What’s that?”
    Again, Katie hesitated. “That’s just an awareness group I belong to. We … raise awareness.”
    I blinked at her and made a note to research NFP. “What makes you such a natural-born leader?” I returned to my