Breaking Rules Read Free Page B

commit all of your time and resources to just those events. Remember that the program stresses the importance of educating and collaborating with others to positively impact your community. It’s not all about raising money, but also about making a difference.”
    “Can you give us an example of what’s been done in the past?” I asked. “What are your expectations for us?”
    “This is our first time working in the schools, so this whole process is just as new to us as it is to you. But if you look in your packet,” Lashell said, turning to the first page of hers, “there’s a list of events the organization has hosted in the past. Food drives are always popular with our volunteers, as well as highway trash removal. Simple donation boxes at high-traffic businesses could be a good place to start fundraising. Your options are open here, so don’t be afraid to think outside the box.”
    Mr. Davies stood up and turned his attention to the group.
    “Keep it school appropriate, charity-oriented, and follow your instincts,” he said. “The projects you choose will represent our school. The more unique your ideas are, the better chance you will have at distinguishing our team from the others.”
    “And what about the scholarship?” the same girl from before asked. “How do we win that?”
    I perked up as Lashell stepped in to answer.
    “There is only one scholarship, and it will be awarded to the student at the winning school who exhibits the most drive, the most commitment, and the best attitude within the project,” Lashell said. “It’s not solely dependent on the outcome of any specific idea or action you may bring to the table. Consideration for the scholarship relies on many qualities and criteria, so please remember that we’re always watching for the best of the best. All I ask is that you keep that in mind over the next six weeks.”
    When no one had any more questions, we were split into smaller groups. I ended up working alongside two juniors. Fletcher, who m I’d met once or twice in passing, settled in next to me in the back row of the theater. Carla, the curious, question-asker and probably my biggest competition for the scholarship, settled in next to him.
    Carla was the first to pitch an idea; she suggested setting up a short-term , soup kitchen at a local church. She mentioned that her uncle, a pastor at the Nazarene church on the corner, wouldn’t mind letting us use the kitchen and dining facilities as often as we’d need them. So we had one charity-oriented project to jump start the brainstorming session.
    Fletcher, the leading man in almost every S CHS theater production, said that he could probably talk the drama club into donating a portion of the ticket sales from the upcoming fall show.
    After the initial ideas were pitched, we all jumped into conversation, bouncing ideas off of one another, and trying to think outside the box, just as Lashell had asked us to. But my mind wasn’t fully focused on the task at hand. I couldn’t get my thoughts centered on anything happening inside the auditorium. I was distracted, and no amount of counting or cleansing breaths seemed to do the trick. My mind only wanted to focus on one thing: the man I’d hit out on Highway 6. I kept seeing his face, picturing the pained look in his eyes as he’d turned and limped away from me. I knew that I’d hurt him worse than he’d been willing to admit, and my stomach wrenched at the thought of how quickly I’d let myself drive away without really trying to rectify the situation. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get past the sinking feeling in my gut that I’d done the wrong thing by leaving him without help. I should’ve called someone.
    “So what’s your big idea, Mandy?” Carla asked, snapping me back into the conversation. “Is there anything you’d like to do?”
    “Hmm?”
    She and Fletcher both watched me carefully and quietly, and then Carla leaned forward and whispered, “Are you okay?