The Unteachables: Chapters 16–23

“You might have heard about a cheating scandal. Well, Mr. Kermit had nothing to do with it. It was me. I can’t believe the newspaper dredged up that old story.”

Aldo and Barnstorm wheel around in their seats, turning belligerent expressions on each other. But Mr. Terranova quickly steps between them.

He could give a math unit on earnings versus expenses, or how to amortize a loan.

I read on, drawn in by her compelling sentences and well-constructed arguments about mass transit. She’s really enthused about the subject, and she expresses herself beautifully.

I elaborate. “It’s for a field trip.”

I regurgitate Emma’s reasons why this is a good idea.

Emma found him at some country club shindig.

She told him about the Spirit Week kerfuffle, and how it dredged up what happened.

“And you want to give him an opportunity to clear his conscience?”

The principal scribbles a signature on the requisition form and leans back in her chair, her expression sober.

The principal scribbles a signature on the requisition form and leans back in her chair, her expression sober. “One more thing, Zachary. You’ve probably already noticed that Dr. Thaddeus isn’t exactly your biggest fan. Well, the vuvuzelas didn’t do anything to change that.”

For the first time since blundering into SCS-8, I feel like I could be with any class of kids in the country, not Greenwich Middle School’s dreaded Unteachables.

Parker digs a mangled ID out of the pocket of his jeans.

On one hand, it’s obvious that he can’t stand his former student because of what happened in the past. On the other, that must have been forever ago. Mr. Terranova was a seventh grader, even younger than we are. He’s an adult now, running a big business, and he’s trying to make amends.

We brought bag lunches, but Mr. Terranova ordered pizza for everybody in the dealership dining room. Only Ribbit turns him down—like anything from his old nemesis would turn to poison as soon as it enters his mouth.

The noise is a cacophony of revving engines, pneumatic tools, and the clang of metal on metal.

Elaine is watching in rapt attention while double-fisting stolen cookies from her jacket pockets.

Sharp staccato choking sounds reach me over the clamor of the shop.

Sharp staccato choking sounds reach me over the clamor of the shop.

Mr. Kermit pounds her on the back, but to no avail.

“We should all get a puffy-tail except Elaine,” Aldo reasons truculently.

He talks to Kiana about practically everything. He asks Rahim’s opinion on the art for new ads for Terranova Motors, and Rahim never so much as yawns when he’s around. The only person Jake can’t schmooze is Mr. Kermit.

“I don’t want you to get ripped off. These guys are all crooks.”
“Including you?” Mr. Kermit inquires innocently.
I run a totally honest shop, but still I feel my cheeks flush.

“It’s not gobbledygook,” he says, insulted on Parker’s behalf. “The boy has a perception problem. He sees all the letters, but his mind rearranges them—Concorde to Coco Nerd.”

“Like an anagram,” the mechanic butts in. “You should meet my boss—he’s an anagram maniac. You look at a word, and to you it’s just a jumble, but he can pick it out in a heartbeat.”

Mr. Kermit talked to his stepdad, who agreed to move his rock band’s nighttime rehearsals to an “alternate venue.” Guess where—an empty storage garage at Terranova Motors.

“You can’t take it with you,” Elaine adds philosophically.

Barnstorm is smug. “At least I’ll be rich.”

He sifts through the papers, giving a cursory scan to each.

“Fooled? Look at those results. Okay, they’re just brief summaries, but last year these kids were all floundering. This is miraculous.”

“Your Mr. Kermit has figured out what thin ice he’s on. He’d do anything to make sure he qualifies for early retirement.”
“Not this,” I say stoutly.

I admit Zachary hasn’t been the greatest teacher up until now, but his integrity has never been in question. Even at his very lowest point, he never claimed to be anything that he wasn’t.

“Refresh my memory,” I reply warily.

I fish the Power Ranger out, watching the level of tea go down. I drop it back in again, and the level rises. My eyes widen in understanding. “Archimedes’ first law of buoyancy—a floating object displaces its own weight in liquid! I’ve been trying to understand it all day!”

Jake buys these rolling whiteboards, and his mechanics show us how to calculate horsepower and torque.