Hit and Run Read Online Free PDF Page B

“starting this afternoon.”
    This afternoon was no problem. But what about the rest of the week? I thought about all the extra hours Mr. Scorza had just given me and about how he thought I was a hard worker. What kind of hard worker showed up for work forty-five minutes late because he’d been sitting in detention?
    â€œBut I have a job after school, four days a week,” I said.
    â€œYou should have thought about that before you decided to take some unscheduled time off.” Mr. Gianneris didn’t even look up from the detention slip he was filling out.
    It was decision time. I had three choices. I could suffer in silence, take the detention, and probably lose myjob as a result. Of all the miserable luck. I could explain the situation to Mr. Gianneris, get down on my knees and beg, if that’s what it took, make him understand exactly what was at stake and how important it was. The thought was humiliating. Mr. Gianneris didn’t like me. What chance did I have that he’d give me a break? Or I could ditch the detentions, just like I’d ditched school on Friday. I’d probably end up suspended, which would free me up for work, but would kill my school record. I watched Mr. Gianneris fill out the slip.
    â€œSir?”
    The word worked magic, like I’d said “Open Sesame.” Mr. Gianneris looked up at me.
    â€œLook, I know I messed up,” I said. I worked at sounding sincere. It wasn’t hard. This mattered more than almost anything else I could think of. “But I just got this after-school job, and I’m supposed to be there at four o’clock Tuesday through Friday. It’s real important to me. I’ll do the detention, Mr. Gianneris. Only, maybe I could do it for five Mondays instead. And I swear I won’t ditch again. If I mess up one more time, you can do what you want. Okay?”
    I stopped talking then and held my breath.
    Mr. Gianneris peered at me for what seemed like days. At first I couldn’t tell whether it was the fact that I had a job, or the fact that I was asking for a favor, that accounted for the look of surprise on his face. Then surprise gave way to suspicion. Finally I saw on his face the same look I had seen on Vin’s face back in sixthgrade health class, when we had started studying human reproduction—a look of intense curiosity.
    â€œWhere do you work?” Mr. Gianneris asked.
    I told him.
    â€œTuesday through Friday?” Mr. Gianneris said.
    â€œAnd all day Saturday.”
    â€œI can call and check, you know.”
    My heart raced. “The manager’s name is Mr. Scorza. I’ve been working Fridays after school and all day Saturday for almost a year.”
    â€œFive Mondays in a row instead of every afternoon this week,” Mr. Gianneris said slowly, as if he wasn’t sure. Then he said, “A job is a good thing. It teaches a person responsibility.” He studied me again. “Are you a good employee?”
    Mr. Gianneris looked down at the detention slip he had just filled out. Then, finally, slowly, he crumpled it up and tossed it into the blue recycle bin near the door. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out another slip.
    â€œYou’d better not disappoint me, Mike,” he said. “And I
am
going to check with Mr. Scorza.”
    I couldn’t believe it. He had cut me some slack. First Mr. Scorza had given me more hours, and now Mr. Gianneris had made it possible for me to keep them. It was the biggest run of good luck I’d ever had.
    â€œThank you, Mr. Gianneris.” I couldn’t remember the last time I had thanked a vice principal. Probably never.
    I spent the rest of the day looking over my shoulder, wondering what kind of trouble I’d be in with Riel onTuesday—or today, if I ran into him. I had a pretty good idea he’d be harder to deal with than Gianneris. I’m not sure why I thought that, but I did. I even thought that it might be