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198 pages

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Imagine if you showed up for your senior year and learned your high school was closing. Worse- students will have to attend their hated rival school. Teachers are leaving, clubs and teams are dropped, no one wants to be principal. In midst of the chaos, the newly elected student president promises it will be one hellava year. The promise will be kept.

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Publié par	First Edition Design Publishing
Date de parution	15 mars 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781506903699
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0300€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Mill River Senior High

Writtenby
JohnC. Rubisch, PhD
Mill River Senior High
Copyright ©2016 John C. Rubisch

ISBN 978-1506-903-68-2 PRINT
ISBN 978-1506-903-69-9 EBOOK

LCCN 2016961157

January 2016

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com

ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns ─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r orpublisher .
MillRiver Senior High is dedicated to the following Susquenita students for theirfeedback as the work evolved. May they always be more than just average.

GenoDeStito
AmberFlanagan
VanessaHoffman
AndrewMartz
NickoleMay
JanSheeler
TylerSinkovitz
MaryStiffler
MonicaStunja
DeannaWilt
MillRiver Senior High

Chapter 1

ADay in Early August

AsRhett Dixon drove the car on route 115 through Capital City, he checked thepassenger side mirror to see if he could merge into the right hand lane. All hecould see was a bare, dark-skinned foot.
“Doyou think you can put your foot down?” he asked his passenger.
“Doyou think you can get some air conditioning in this … vehicle ?” Theresponse emphasized the word vehicle as if there was doubt it was theappropriate word to use. The boy removed his leg from the open window as hestraightened his body from its slouch in the passenger seat.
“Whadyathink? I’m like Michael Smith the multimillionaire? You know that the onlyreason I have my brother’s car is because his unit went overseas,” Rhettresponded as he slid into the right lane. “You’d think you’d treat your rideback from your court ordered community service a little better.”
CyFreemen nodded his head in agreement. He said, “You’d think. How is ol’ Jimbo?”
“Wegot an email the other day,” responded Rhett. “He was his usual surly self.”
Sweatingprofusely, Cy stuck his face out the window. “Man, it must be over a hundredtoday.”
“Didyou finally get the “R” out of the football field?” Rhett asked.
“Thinkso,” responded Cy, examining the grass stains on his jeans. “My Dad is stillticked.”
Mimickinghis father’s voice, he said, “You’ll be the only valedictorian on juvenileprobation.”
Rhettsnickered at Cy’s imitation of his father as it sounded very much like Mr.Freeman.
“Ican’t believe you put it there in the first place,” Rhett said shaking his headnegatively, half in admiration and half in sheer amazement of the audacity ofCy’s act.
“Itwas relatively easy,” said Cy. “Last fall we took the field at Morningside Glenfor halftime. While marching in place atop of the MG emblem at midfield, someband members…”
“Iknow,” interrupted Rhett as he slowed the car for a red light. He had heardthis tale many times. He continued, “You let some grass seed fall from holes inyour pants pockets onto the field.”
“Notjust any kind of grass seed,” protested Cy. “Winter rye grass seed! It had tobe that kind! We tramped it into the ground while marching. This past spring anice big, green “R” grows into the center of the Morningside Glen footballfield. So now, instead of a “MG” in the middle of the stadium, the Griffinshave a “MR” for dear ol’ Mill River Senior High.”
Cyconcluded by bowing his head in mock homage to his school.
Thelight turned green, and Rhett pushed the gas. He said, “And once they figuredout it was you, what did it get you? Was it worth it?”
“Let’ssee,” said Cy. He played with the air conditioning controls on the dashboardbefore giving up and resigning himself to the heat. “Kicked out of the band. Samefor the honor society. A whopping fine. Community service in the form ofremoving the “R” from the grass of the football field. The everlasting enmityof my parents. Loss of use of the car. But I did gain a juvenile probationworker. And I did one up Morningside Glen, the best school in this valley andas far as they are concerned, any other valley. And you gotta admit it wasawfully funny. Worth it? I’d say I broke even.”
“Yeah,it was funny,” admitted Rhett. A slight smile came to his face. In all theyears he had known Franklin “Cy” Freeman, he had never known Cy to earn lessthan an “A”. His friend was a fountain of knowledge, which was both useful anduseless. In elementary school he had been tagged with the nickname of“encyclopedia”, which was eventually shortened to Cy. As he had grown older,perhaps bored by a lack of academic challenge, Cy had demonstrated a proclivityfor pranks. Although never malicious, unfortunately, as in the case of the R onthe football field, they often seemed to backfire.
Cyglanced at a girl walking down the street. “Hey, that looks like your oldgirlfriend, Andy Stockton.”
“Can’tbe,” said Rhett. He quickly peered over his shoulder before returning his eyesto the road. “She moved to the other side of the country.”
“Did’jahear that Matt Wallin is going to Japan?” said Cy, changing the subject.
Rhettslowed the car as a bus in front of him stopped.
“Yeah,”he said. “Exchange student?”
“Un-huh,”replied Cy. “That leaves us without a school president.”
Rhettlooked unsuccessfully for a way around the bus. He said, “Wouldn’t SharondaWilliams get it?”
“No,”Cy shook his head. “She is VP, but the school constitution states that thepresident must be a senior and the veep a junior.”
Cywaited for a reply, but his friend was still preoccupied with the stopped bus.
“Whodo you think will get it?” he asked.
“Idunno,” replied Rhett. He had little interest in politics of any kind,particularly Mill River High School politics. “Probably the usual suspects,those people who run all the time: Gina Roberts, Jimmy Lee…”
Thebus was finally moving, and he concentrated on the traffic.
“Orsomebody in this car,” Cy said with an odd tone in his voice.
“Whydon’t you run?” Rhett said. “You’re the smartest kid in the school if not theentire valley.”
Rhettnoticed a smile come across his friend’s face. He was clearly pleased with thiscompliment.
Cyshook his head to indicate no. “I would never win,” he said. “Too many peopledon’t like me. Some envious. Besides, the last non-jock, Black, male student tobe elected president was Jonathan King in 1970.”
Cywent on, but Rhett was only half listening. 1970? How did Cy know thisstuff? No point in looking it up. Cy would be right.
Thebus had stopped again. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel infrustration. He turned back toward Cy just as his friend said:
“No,I was thinking about the other person in this car. You.”
Rhettwas stunned. He said, “That’s crazy. I’m not popular. Who would vote for me?”
Cyraised his finger in the air as he spoke. “Perhaps you’re not one of the socialelite. But more importantly nobody dislikes you. Let’s face it: people likeRoberts and Lee have kids who hate their guts.”
Cylooked for a response but only got a puzzled look from his friend. He continuedto state his case.
“Yourun track so the jocks like you. But you’re not as obnoxious as say…RustyMcNaughton. So others don’t perceive you as a jock. You get along with theTechers like Jack Billet. Some of your best friends are the preps like HollyHenry. With the right brains as your campaign manager, you could pull thisthing off.”
Rhettsmirked, “Those ‘right brains’ would be yours, wouldn’t they?”
“Iknew you’d say yes,” said Cy his voice rising with excitement. “I know we cando this!”
“Ididn’t agree to anything, yet,” said Rhett. “I’ll think about it.”
Thebus had emptied out the last of its passengers: a tall, tawny girl with abandana wrapped around her head. She was carrying a basketball.
“Thatlooks like Mousey Brown,” said Cy noticing the girl. “What would she be doingin Capital City?”
“Probablyis,” said Rhett. “There is a court over there. Holly tells me Mousey has beenplaying basketball constantly this summer.”
*****
Herewe are, Mouse, the girl said to herself. The playground at 15 th and Aikens in Capital City. The best pick-up games in the entire valley. Youare ready for this: playing on four different teams this summer, team camp,individual camp. All preparation for senior and last year of basketball at MillRiver.
Then,why did she feel less than confident? Because these were inner city guys andnot the small town jocks from Mill River who she played against on a regularbasis.
Unsureof herself she moved toward the court where some boys were picking up teams. Sheleaned down to tighten her shoelaces hoping to melt in with the crowd.
“Youcan’t play with us,” she heard a voice say. She looked and saw a Black boy witha Lakers jersey. Mousey judged him to be about fifteen. He continued, “But I’lltell you what. After we’re done running, you can play with me. We can go one onone.”
Hisremark was met with raucous laughter. Other crude remarks were made until avoice from the back interrupted, “I’ll take her.”
Thelaughing stopped. The boys parted as a 6’-5” figured emerged. He had an air ofconfidence, which was unmatched by the others. His body was sinewy, and hemoved with a litheness that seemed graceful yet strong. He said, “She’s on myside.”
Mouseywas stunned. She recognized Pizzaro Jackson immediately. And who would not? Thebest player in Capital City, the state, and some even said the country.
Playstarted. Mousey raced down court toward the basket. A boy on her team threw upa wild shot. She placed herself in position for the rebound.
Ahip came flying into her from seemingly nowhere. It sent her crashing to thepavement of the court. It was the boy in the Lakers shirt. He grabbed therebound and raced up court. Turning to her as he ran he said, “Welcome to thebig league, sweet cheeks.”