Free Runner by Carl Deuker

hair pulled into a short ponytail, was sitting at a table in the back. She waved and I walked back to meet her. "You know Thomas Dowell and Annie Comstock, don't you?"
    "Sure," I said, though I hadn't spoken ten words to either of them the whole time I'd been at Lincoln. "Good to see you."
    Thomas and Annie had already bought their food, so I was able to go to the front counter with Melissa. "A large mocha and a scone," she said to the girl taking orders.
    "I'll have the same," I said.
    We stood side by side as the girl put our order together. "I'm really glad you came," Melissa said. "I didn't think you would."
    "I wasn't sure I would, either."
    "I know most people think the newspaper is nerdy and all that, but it really isn't."
    Before I had to answer, the order came up. "I'll pay," I said, taking out my wallet.
    "You pay for yours and I'll pay for mine," Melissa said.
    "No," I said. "You bought at Little Coney. I'm paying this time."
    We carried our food back to the table. While we'd been gone, Natasha Martin had joined the others. "I can only stay
for a little while," she said. "My cousin from North Carolina is visiting. He got accepted into Harvard last week. Fifteen-fifty on the SAT. My parents want me to talk to him. As if talking about the SAT can help me score higher. I'll be lucky to get into Central Washington."
    "You'll get into a good school," Melissa said. "You know you will."
    For the next half hour, they talked about colleges. One place was great for pre-law while another had a fantastic biology program. Some other place had a sister school in Istanbul and another one had a junior-year program in Paris. Most of the schools they mentioned I'd never heard of. Occasionally Melissa would look over at me and smile.
    I'd always thought that if I had a few bucks in my pocket, I'd be even with kids like Melissa and Thomas and Annie and Natasha. Now I had money, probably more money than anyone else at the table, but it didn't even things up at all. They were still them, and I was still me.
    "Maybe we should talk about the newspaper," Melissa said at last. "That's why we're here, isn't it?"
    Thomas groaned. "Couldn't we just skip it?"
    Melissa shook her head. "Chance came because he's interested in joining the staff."
    "That's OK," I muttered. "Talk about whatever you want to talk about."
    Thomas smiled. "See, Melissa. He doesn't care."
    "Well, I do," Melissa said. "And I'm the editor. So let's get to the meeting."
    Melissa told them about the rats living in the rocks. She looked to Thomas. "Maybe you could take some pictures and Chance could write it up?"
    I panicked, but Thomas saved me. "I don't want to get into cutesy-bunny-and-kitten crap. That sort of stuff is for the Wednesday shopper." He looked at me. "No offense, Chance."
    Melissa sighed. "All right. Anybody else have any ideas for Chance? Something to do with the waterfront?"
    "How about if he writes about the seals in the harbor?" Annie said. "The ones that are eating all the salmon and ruining the salmon runs."
    "That's old news," Melissa said. "The
Times
has had about fifty articles about that."
    "He could write about the threat of terrorism," Natasha said.
    "What threat of terrorism?" Melissa asked.
    "My dad has a friend who works for the FBI. He says they're really worried about the ports. There are zillions of boats floating around on the Sound and nobody keeps track of them. Terrorists could sail in and blow up whatever they wanted."
    Melissa looked at me. "Is that true?"
    "I wouldn't say nobody keeps track," I said. "There's the Coast Guard and the port police, and there's customs and there's immigration. Homeland Security must be down there too, but I don't think I've ever seen them."
    "But they don't check all the boats, do they?" Natasha insisted.
    "No," I said. "How could they?"
    Thomas snorted in disgust. "I can see the headline now:
Terrorists at Shilshole! A
Lincoln Light
Exclusive."
    "What's so ridiculous about it?" Natasha snapped. "It's not