Or start with Scene 1 at

On Wednesday, the assignment in English was to write a list of valid reasons for the ten classroom rules.

In first period, Felix—who looked like a wanna-be gangbanger with his shaved head, baggy khaki pants, white T-shirt, and the uniform web belt with a tongue so long it hung below his knees—was doing a lot of talking.

Felix was short and had a round baby face. "I haven't seen you write anything, Felix. Show me what you’ve done."

"How can you be helping each other when you haven't done anything?" I asked.

"We've been working," Felix said. "I'm almost done."

The only paper on his desk was blank. It didn't even have his name on it. Before I could say something, the door opened, and three students walked in with pink slips. This told me they were being added to the class, and I had to start them from the beginning. Felix would have to wait until the next time.

In sixth period, I read the Quill and Scroll evaluation to the journalism students. When I finished, there was no response—not a sound. Nada. I wondered why, but couldn’t think of an answer. Maybe it was because most of them hadn’t been in the class last year, and they had not earned the award. It would’ve been nice to know what they were thinking, but I decided not to pursue it. I didn’t know it then, but I would have my answer before the school year ended.

"I'm done," I said. "That's all I wanted to share with you. But I do want to remind the new students that if you want to be a reporter instead of a cub reporter, you have to take the exam before the end of the month."

Before the end of the period, I talked to Mary Grace, a junior and Scroll's financial manager. We talked about campus organizations such as band, chorus, drama, FFA, ASB, CSF, or the Key Club, that might want to advertise in the school paper.