Cool School by John Marsden Read Free Book Online Page A

questioningly. All he has to do is hold that button down and you’ve got straight As , guaranteed.
    You pause, wondering what you should do. Is it a yes or is it a no?

ook,’ you say, ‘I’m not putting up with these threats. This is blatant discrimination.’
    Ignoring the shocked Principal and her startled son, you pull your mobile phone out of your pocket and switch it on. Swiftly you dial your lawyer’s number.
    â€˜I need you over here,’ you say, when your lawyer answers. ‘We’ve got a major lawsuit on our hands.’
    Twenty minutes later your lawyer arrives in her gold Mercedes. After a short conference with her, the two of you go back into the Principal’s office. The Principal is sitting behind the desk, with her son beside her. Both of them are white-faced, the sweat gathering in drops on their faces, like hundreds and thousands on fairy bread.
    Your lawyer does all the talking.
    â€˜At this stage,’ she says, ‘my client would seem to have actions in torts, for assault, defamation, trespass, battery, libel and discrimination. You appear to be in breach of the school’s implied warranty to students, and you’re certainly in breach of your statutory and common-law duty of care to this unfortunate victim.’
    The Principal fans herself with her cheque book.
    â€˜Look,’ she says, ‘can’t we come to some . . . arrangement? We really don’t need this to go to court, surely. Do we?’
    Five minutes of fast talking follows, before you find yourself leaving the office with your lawyer holding a cheque for $10,000.
    â€˜Wow,’ you say, ‘what a great result. Thanks a lot.’
    â€˜Yes,’ she says, ‘terrific, isn’t it? Now here’s my account. As soon as you pay that I’ll be happy to let you have this cheque.’
    You glance at the bill she gives you. On the bottom line it says: ‘Total due and payable now’ and you read the figure: ‘$10,028.75’. Through the office door you can hear the Principal chasing her son around the room with a hockey stick. Your lawyer pricks up her ears. ‘Think I’ll just pop back in there,’ she says. ‘That young man sounds like he might need a good lawyer.’

efore she can say another word the door is thrown open and another teacher comes storming in. She charges straight up to Cedric, who looks as puzzled as everyone else by this sudden arrival. The teacher’s holding a black videotape in her hand and she waves it in front of Cedric’s nose.
    â€˜Got you!’ she cries in triumph. ‘Got you at last!’
    â€˜Goodness me,’ the Principal says. ‘Please tell me, what is the meaning of . . .’
    But this is another sentence she doesn’t get to finish. When it comes to finishing sentences this is a bad day for her.
    â€˜Ms Millington,’ says the teacher, ‘do you have a video recorder?’
    â€˜Why yes, certainly, I’ve got one out here in the . . .’
    The teacher charges out to where Ms Millington points. In a moment she returns with a TV and a video recorder on a big trolley. She shoves the tape in and presses ‘play’. As she does she says to Cedric, ‘You didn’t know about the security equipment we put in during the holidays, did you?’
    Cedric’s starting to look nervous. There are flickering grey lines on the screen and then they clear. You’re looking at a murky grey and white picture of a bike shed. There’s a few very small students in the corner and there, towering over them, is the unmistakeable figure of Cedric. And a second later you hear his voice.
    â€˜. . . and after you’ve given me your little lunch, I want all your Derwent coloured pencils. Otherwise you’ll never see your Barbie dolls again!’
    The little kids on the screen are crying, but that’s nothing to the sobbing of Cedric, right