Speak Up Chapter 01
Northgate Preparatory School had two famous outcasts.
One was me, Bianca Pierce. I’ve never been much of a talker, and I keep to myself.
Behind my back, plenty of people called me the “Ice Queen.”
The other was Wade Romano, the boy who sat beside me.
His grades had consistently hovered near the bottom of our class.
He was always smiling, and for some reason, I was the only person he ever listened to.
My father is the executive director of the state board of education.
My mother is a partner at a major law firm.
My aunt Kate is an investigative journalist, a Pulitzer Prize finalist.
On my first day, my father specifically instructed the principal not to mention our family background to anyone.
And I never did.
Until that Monday’s schoolwide assembly.
Veronica, the student council vice president, stood before the entire school, microphone in hand.
She accused me of stealing eight hundred dollars from the student council event fund.
Then she accused Wade of cheating on the October midterms.
On the spot, Director Holloway from Student Affairs announced my disqualification from the National Chemistry Olympiad.
Holloway gave my spot to Spencer Sutton, the second-ranked student in our year.
I stood in line, my lips pressed into a thin line, unable to force a single word out.
Wade rushed out from the line, shouting in my defense.
“She didn’t steal anything. And I didn’t cheat. What gives you the right?”
Our grade-level advisor immediately told him to shut up.
Someone grabbed his arm, but he kept struggling.
I reached into my pocket for my phone.
I opened my family group chat and typed four words.
“Come to school. Now.”
If they were going to push things this far, they would have to face the consequences.
…
On Monday morning, the whole school was in the gym for the weekly assembly.
Wade stood beside me, quietly reciting the AP U.S. History outline I’d made for him the day before.
“Constitutional Convention, three compromises…”
“Stop reciting and stand up straight,” I murmured.
He flashed a grin, then immediately straightened his posture.
Just then, Director Holloway’s voice boomed from the stage.
“Next, please welcome Student Council Vice President Veronica to the stage to report on an investigation.”
Veronica stepped out from the student section, took the microphone, and walked to the podium.
“Good morning, teachers and students.”
“On behalf of the student council, I’ll be addressing two serious violations.”
She paused, her gaze landing directly on me.
“First. A financial review by the student council has found that eleventh-grader Bianca Pierce,”
“While serving on the events committee, misappropriated eight hundred dollars from the fall dance fund. Here is the signed reimbursement form.”
The large screen lit up.
A reimbursement form was projected onto it.
At the bottom, in the signature field, was my name: Bianca Pierce.
The handwriting was a close imitation of mine.
But I’d never touched the student council’s money.
The events committee was only responsible for planning. The president and treasurer handled budget approvals.
I opened my mouth.
Still, no words came out.
Whispers erupted around me.
“Bianca stole money? Seriously?”
“The form’s right there. It even has her signature.”
“I always thought something was off about her. She’s always so standoffish. Who knows what she’s capable of?”
Veronica gave no one time to think.
“Second.”
“We’ve received signed reports from several students alleging that eleventh-grade transfer student Wade Romano cheated off Bianca Pierce during the October midterms.”
“Wade entered our school ranked near the bottom of his class, yet his ranking suddenly jumped by nearly four hundred places on this exam.”
“The student council has submitted our findings to the academic office and recommends that his score be nullified and that he face disciplinary action.”
My whole body went cold.
For a transfer student, that kind of mark on his record could get him expelled.
“Bullshit!”
Wade burst from the line.
His voice echoed through the silent gym, and for a moment, everyone froze.
“I didn’t copy. We weren’t even in the same exam room! Our seat numbers were more than two hundred apart.”
“I was in Room Three, she was in Room Seven. How could I have possibly copied from her?”
He turned and pointed at the reimbursement form on the screen.
“And that form—Bianca never touched the student council’s money. She doesn’t even have an access card for their office. It’s a fake.”
Holloway strode over and grabbed Wade’s arm.
“Wade, watch your attitude.”
The gym fell silent.
Someone murmured, “He has a point. Room Three and Room Seven are really far apart.”
The academic director cleared his throat.
“Different exam rooms don’t preclude other forms of cheating. Passing answers beforehand, using a phone—both are possibilities.”
“You’re also under investigation,” Holloway added. “You have no right to speak on anyone’s behalf.”
Our grade-level advisor came over and restrained Wade.
He fought against their grip, his face flushed and his voice hoarse from shouting.
“She didn’t steal anything. I didn’t cheat. What gives you the right—”
A teacher reached out and covered his mouth.
I stood frozen in place.
Noise flooded my ears, and my vision began to blur.
I opened my mouth, but my throat was tight, choked.
Not a sound came out.