Chapter 1

Monday afternoon English class was interrupted by a messenger from the front office handing a note to Mrs. Goldman. She perused the note.

"Andy," Mrs. Goldman said. I looked up. "Report to Principal Harrison's office."

"Ooooh!" responded my classmates.

"What is it?" I questioned while rising.

"I don't know," she said. "The note just says for you to report."

"Busted," whispered Eric Smith, my best friend and golf teammate, seated in the desk next to mine. I shot him a glare.

"Should I bring my stuff?" I asked.

"It's almost the end of the day Andy, so I think you should," she replied.

I gathered my textbook and papers into one pile then pulled out my backpack from under my desk. I neatly crammed the book and papers into my pack. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out.

I wondered what Principal Harrison wanted me for. I couldn't imagine. I was a good kid. I got good grades. Most of all I was an athletic star. I couldn't be in trouble.

"I'm here to see Principal Harrison," I told the receptionist at the front desk in the administration building.

"Is he expecting you?" she asked.

I held up the note.

"What's your name?"

"Andy. Andrew Ellison." Did she really not know who I was? Did she live under a rock?

She picked up the phone and relayed to the person on the other end that I was here.

"Come on in," she said. She stood and held open the swinging door.

I walked through and looked in all directions.

"Straight ahead," she said pointing.

There was nothing in the name holder next to the closed door. I hesitantly knocked on it unsure if it was the right door even though the receptionist's instructions seemed very clear.

"Come in!" a man shouted.

I stepped in.

"Andy!" said Principal Harrison enthusiastically from behind his desk. "Close the door and have a seat."

I did as he said and sat down in front of his nameplate that said "Harlan Harrison". My chair was stiff and hard while his chair was cushy.

"So how are you?" he asked.

"Good."

"Life treating you okay?"

"Yes." I knew this wasn't a social call. I wanted him to just get to it.

"Keeping your golf game up?"

"I'm going to play right after school." It was convenient that I could pick up my clubs from home and walk right over to the course.

"Good, good."

I realized that he seemed nervous. What was this about?

"I guess you're wondering why I called you to my office?" he said.

"Yes, sir."

"Your golf championship has expanded opportunities for the school to shine in the spotlight."

Get to it. Get to it. Get to the point.

The school bell went off. The day was over. I glanced at the door to his office.

"You need to stay, Andy. We need to talk," he said.