After he had eaten his pie, Jed stood and headed toward the back door. He and May had their usual argument as to what part of the leftovers Chocolate, their Labrador retriever, was entitled to consume; then Jed said, “Can you believe a hundred new families moving in almost next door?”

“The last day of school.” Skye felt the magic in those words as she repeated them to herself.

Ten weeks of summer vacation stretched ahead of her without deadlines, meetings, or alarm clocks. Refreshed from her morning swim, she whistled as she sat in her office at the junior high, cleaning out her file cabinet.

The satisfying act of shredding paper was interrupted by the PA. “Ms. Denison, please report to the office, Ms. Denison.”

Sighing, Skye stopped what she was doing and made her way to the front of the building.

Ursula motioned Skye into the principal’s office.

Skye’s heart raced when she found her Aunt Mona sitting across from Neva Llewellyn. “Aunt Mona, did something happen to Mom?”

“No. I’m here on school business.” Her impersonal blue eyes raked Skye.

“Oh.” Skye felt such relief she was almost giddy. She sat next to her aunt and faced the principal. “What’s up?”

Neva shook her head slightly and gestured for Mona to answer.

Mona turned to Skye. “It’s about the ceremony this morning. I’m chairwoman of the awards committee and I’ve just been going over the list of winning students with my delegation. One of the mothers recognized the name of the author of the prize-winning essay, and told me this boy has barely made it through junior high. So I had Ursula run off a copy of his discipline record. There were so many detentions it took the computer ten minutes to print them all up.”

“I see.” Skye searched Neva’s face for a clue as to why she was being involved. Actually, the secretary should not have given her aunt that information without a signed release of records from the child’s parents.

Neva started to answer, “It turns out this boy is someone you see for counseling and we-”

Mona interrupted. “So we’ve decided to go with the second-place entry instead. It is written by a lovely girl who has never caused a moment’s trouble.”

Neva refused to meet Skye’s eyes. “Since the boy was already notified, we thought it might be better if you told him he won’t be getting the award after all. We’re sure you can put it to him gently and make him see it’s for the best.”

“Who are we talking about?” Skye stalled.

“Justin Boward.” Mona’s lips twisted as if she tasted something putrid.

“The eighth-grade English teacher was most impressed with his writing,” Neva added. “Although his topic was somewhat controversial.”

“Exactly. Neal would be appalled if I allowed a pro-choice essay to win a prize. After all, he is the head of the Knights of Columbus.” Mona straightened a pleat in her white silk skirt. “It is inappropriate for someone like this boy to triumph. People would think that we approved of his type of good-for-nothing behavior.”

Skye picked her words carefully, fully intending to maintain the confidentiality of her sessions with Justin. “I’ve worked with Justin all year. He’s a youngster who, although very smart, refuses to put any effort into doing well at school. As you know, he is passing eighth grade by the thinnest of margins.”

“Exactly.” Mona smiled meanly.

“There are a lot of interpersonal and emotional reasons for his behavior, which I can’t share with you, but I’ve made some progress with him. I discovered that he loves to read, as long as it isn’t a class assignment, and that he has a talent for writing. With my encouragement he was motivated to enter the contest.”

Mona said, “A prize like this should go to a serious student who has put forth effort all year. Not someone who rattles off a paper at the last minute.”

“If you take this prize away from him after you’ve already told him he won, you will be reinforcing every negative thing he already believes about authority figures.” Skye looked from her aunt to the principal. “You will undo an entire year’s worth of therapy.”

Mona shrugged and patted Skye on the knee. “Quite frankly, Skye, I don’t much believe that mumbo jumbo. Neal says it’s more like the work of the devil than of Jesus.”

“How can he say that? Even the church offers counseling.” Skye squared her shoulders and clenched the arms of her chair.

“Well, that’s completely different.” Mona crossed her arms and sat back.

“I’ll take care of this from here, Mona,” Neva said. “Perhaps you’d give us a few minutes alone?”

Mona picked up her purse and walked toward the door. “Then I’ll see you in the gym.”

As soon as Mona left, Skye shot out of her chair and leaned on Neva’s desk. “Why do people who know the least know it the loudest? And why are you letting her get away with this?”

Neva stood. “That was getting us nowhere. Skye, the decision has been made. Justin Boward is not getting the award.” When Skye tried to interrupt, Neva raised her hand, palm out. “There are too many people in Scumble River who feel as your aunt does, and the school district is planning a referendum in the near future. We can’t afford to offend such a vocal part of our voters.”

“I won’t be the one to tell him.”

“That’s fine with me. I have no problem telling Justin. But is your refusal to tell him in his best interest or because you’re in a snit?” Neva asked quietly.

Skye’s reason fought with her emotions. “Okay, I’ll tell him, but nothing I can say is going to make up to him for this betrayal.”

Before leaving the office, Skye asked that Justin be paged and told to report to Ms. Denison. They met at her doorway. She noted that instead of his usual T-shirt and baggy shorts, he wore a white shirt and tie, with black dress pants.

His mood was different too. He stood tall and looked her in the eye, speaking without being prompted to do so. “What’s up, Ms. Denison? I can’t stay long today. The awards’ ceremony starts in a few minutes. Can you come and watch me get my trophy?”

Skye closed her eyes briefly and wondered what she was going to say. They hadn’t covered a situation like this in graduate school.

“Ah, Ms. Denison, are you okay?”

How could she destroy this kid just because some committee felt he wasn’t “good enough”? He had come so far. When she had first started to see him they had gone whole forty-minute sessions exchanging fewer than ten words apiece. He never made eye contact and was failing all his classes.

She knew now that whatever she said and however she said it, her words were going to destroy Justin’s emerging faith in adults. Skye wished she had more experience. She had no idea how to minimize this kind of damage.

Finally, she took a deep breath and spoke. “You really like Star Trek, don’t you? You watch all the reruns, right?”

He nodded, looking confused.

“Do you always think that the captain does the right thing, makes the right decision?”

Justin looked at her strangely. “No, not always, but usually.”

“If you were a member of the Star Trek crew, would you go against the captain when he or she gave an order you thought was wrong?”

After a long pause, he shook his head. “No, that would be mutiny. But I would enter a protest into my log.”

“Well, I’m sort of in that position now. Mrs. Llewellyn has ordered me to tell you something I don’t agree with, and I don’t think she agrees with it either, but her boss has ordered her to do it.” Skye leaned forward and put her hand over his as it lay on the table. “Justin, I’m sorry to have to say that you won’t be getting the award for best essay after all.”

Justin jerked his hand away and scrunched up his face. “Why? What happened?”

“They decided to give the prize to the second-place winner. They thought, even though you’re a great writer, hers was better when all things were considered.” Skye didn’t want to tell him he was considered unworthy, but she was also trying not to lie.