The Last Reporter by Michael Winerip Page A

never knew that there were so many broken hearts —”
    “Ask Phoebe!” yelled Jennifer. “Stop . . . just stop.” Jennifer called a time-out. “Calm down, Phoebe. Please, just take a breath and count to ten to yourself . . .”
    “That reminds me,” said Ask Phoebe. “I’m going to be doing top ten zero trans fat —”
    And then Phoebe stopped. She actually stopped. In mid-sentence. Jennifer had given her such a forceful glare that even Phoebe had noticed. The entire staff had noticed. The room went silent. Adam was wowed; it was as if Jennifer had put every last ounce of her face into that glare. Adam wished he had those kind of crowd control skills; all he could ever think of was throwing Phoebe out a window.
    In the calmest of voices, Jennifer explained to Ask Phoebe that while it sounded like things were going great, the coeditors would still have to see a sample column before they made up their minds. Jennifer said they had to get on to the news stories; there was lots to do.
    Phoebe nodded. “If there’s time at the end, can I read a letter out loud to you guys?” she asked.
    “If there’s time,” said Jennifer. “One.”
    “Just one?” asked Ask Phoebe.
    Adam told them the exciting news about the Bolands being under investigation. “We did it,” said Adam. “It’s our story that got the state to investigate them. The
Slash
! Little us!” They looked around at one another. Little them? Versus the mighty Bolands?
    Adam explained that state investigators were looking into whether the Bolands’ plan — to buy up all the old houses in the Willows, tear them down, and put up Boland Estates full of new million-dollar mini-mansions — was unfair to poor families who couldn’t afford any other place to live in Tremble County.
    “The Bolands are going to jail?” asked a photographer.
    Adam shook his head. “I wish,” he said. “Long way to go.” He explained that just because someone is investigated doesn’t mean they’re guilty, even though in this case he was sure the Bolands were guilty to the stinking core.
    Jennifer told them that she had talked it over with her dad, who was a lawyer. “He said investigations of high and mighty people like the Bolands can take a long time because even the investigators and the investigators’ bosses can be scared of them.”
    Another kid asked if this meant the
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would soon become the official newspaper of Harris Elementary/Middle School again.
    “I think it could happen,” said Jennifer. “But not that soon. It’s definitely a little hopeful.” She said it showed that even if the school board had shut them down, other grown-ups — the state investigators — had taken their story on the Bolands seriously. And so did the
New York Times,
by publishing a front-page article about it. “It shows that we’re not just troublemakers,” said Jennifer.
    “Well, we are troublemakers,” said Adam. “We’re just good troublemakers.”
    All this meant that they still had to raise money to put out the
Slash.
Jennifer explained that she had good news and bad news on that front. “The good news is that Adam and I had a big meeting with the Ameche brothers, and we straightened out a few problems they were having.”
    “Problems raising money?” asked Sammy.
    “Um, no,” said Jennifer.
    “They were actually too good at raising money,” said Adam.
    “That’s a problem?” asked Sammy.
    “Let’s just say they needed some ethics training,” said Jennifer. “They didn’t realize you can’t let people tell you what to put in the newspaper just because they buy an ad from you.”
    “So we met with their boss,” said Adam. “And got it squared away.”
    “This is the Ameche brothers from the
Talk Till You Drop, All-Live Except the Recorded Parts
webcast?” asked Phoebe. “They’re, like, really famous. They don’t seem like the kind of people who’d have a boss.”
    “Actually, their mother,” said Jennifer.
    “Anyway,” said Adam,