Work Text:
"Charles Boyle, come here please."
At the coloring table, the five of them -- well, four, because Gina kept working on her maze, because she was super into mazes and connect-the-dot pictures lately -- looked up. Charlie looked confused. "Me, Mr. Terry?"
"Yes." Terry frowned and braced his hands on his hips, suspenders threatening to snap. "Come to my desk, please. Now."
Charlie set down his crayons (he had been coloring in a picture of Sugarcube Corner) and walked up to Terry's desk.
Mr. Terry folded his hands on his desk and looked Charlie in the eye. "Charlie, do you know what happened to the chocolate chip cookies my wife made for snack time tomorrow?"
Charlie's brow furrowed. "No, Mr. Terry. I didn't even know tomorrow's snack time would have cookies!" His expression brightened. "Will they have walnuts? I read that walnuts and oatmeal make chocolate chip cookies way better!"
Mr. Terry shook his head solemnly. "No Charlie, they don't have walnuts. And there won't be cookies at snack time tomorrow."
Charlie looked confused.
Across the room, Jake scooted his chair closer to Amy and whispered, "What's going on?"
"Shhh," Amy replied, eyes narrowing in concentration. She watched Terry and Charlie speak in hushed tones until Charlie slumped over sadly and swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Amyyyyyy," Jake whisper-whined. "C'mon, spill."
"It looks like Mr. Terry thinks Charlie stole some cookies? Or stalled same crazies."
"He wouldn't get in trouble for the second one," Rosa pointed out, taking a break from coloring in Nightmare Moon.
"I wish I had a superpower like you," Jake said quietly, bumping Amy's shoulder with his own.
"It's not a superpower, I just--"
"Class," Mr. Terry called, standing at the front of the room with a disappointed expression. Beside him, Charlie had his hands covering his face. "Because of an…incident, the surprise cookies my wife baked you all for snack time tomorrow are gone. I know you all were looking forward to them, but I promise that the one who took them will be punished."
"It's me, I'm being punished," Charlie said glumly, holding a toy xylophone in slack hands. The five of them were circled up trying to learn a song from the music book.
Gina tapped her triangle. "Did you do it?"
The other three glared. Charlie struck the green bar of the instrument at a weird angle, making a discordant note.
"No, of course he didn't." Rosa glared, then turned to Charlie. "Charlie. You wouldn't steal cookies. That's not you."
Charlie wasn't listening. "Maybe I sleep-ate them? But we haven't had naptime yet."
Amy drummed her fingers on the broad, flat center of her tambourine. "If only we could find the real thief, then we could tell Mr. Terry and Charlie could have recess again."
Jake beamed and brandished his kazoo at Amy. "Amy! You're a genius!"
Amy looked confused but also flattered.
"Charlie," he continued, and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. Charlie looked up pitifully at his friend. "We're going to figure out who stole the cookies from Mr. Terry, and you'll get to have recess again, okay?"
Charlie sniffled and rubbed the heel of one fist against his cheek. "You really mean it, Jakey?"
Jake crossed his heart. "I promise."
"One question," Amy hissed, a few moments later when they were out of earshot of the others. "How are we gonna prove Charlie didn't do it? In case you forgot, we're only five!"
Jake shrugged. "We gotta try, right?" A few feet away, Rosa was trying to teach Charlie and Gina how to count beats. Charlie kept being off one, and Gina simply didn't care, enjoying the sound of her triangle for its own sake, but Charlie was smiling for the first time since coloring.
"Yeah, okay, we can try," Amy sighed, shaking her tambourine.
Jake grinned. "Yeah!" He trumpeted his kazoo in celebration.
"So, what's the plan," Rosa whispered, distracting Jake from trying to copy Amy's math worksheet. Charlie was at a table by himself away from the others. In the far corner of the classroom, Mr. Holt surveyed the room with a watchful eye.
When Hitchcock and Scully started punching each other for no discernible reason, Jake glanced at her. "We start a rumor," he whispered. "At recess. We tell everyone that Mrs. Terry brought more cookies to school. Then, after school, we wait to see who comes by to take the cookies."
"But how do we make sure that they get caught?" Gina twirled her bright pink feather-topped pencil. "What? I listen sometimes." She smirked. "You would all be so lost without me "
"She's got a point," Rosa whispered, pretending to write her answer. "Someone has to go get Mr. Holt or Mr. Terry."
"Amy will go run and get Mr. Holt. And we'll make sure Charlie stays with Mr. Terry."
Amy pouted. "Why do I have to go get Mr. Holt?" She set her pencil down. "I don't wanna be the tattler."
"It's not tattling." Rosa whispered sharply.
"And you're the fastest runner," Jake pointed out. "You're the best person for the job."
Amy beamed.
When she turned to ask Scully for a sand timer, Jake leaned over to Rosa. "She's also the only one Mr. Holt will believe no question."
Rosa snickered before sobering when she caught Mr. Holt's eye. "Good call." Rosa dipped her chin once in acknowledgement and picked up her black-and-pink striped pencil. "Also, the answer to number four is 5 plus 2, not STZ."
Starting a playground rumor, it turned out, was incredibly easy.
"Someone told me that they heard someone say that they saw Mrs. Terry come by the school with more cookies," Gina said, handing Hitchcock and Scully play-doh. Scully promptly started eating it.
"Awesome," Hitchcock said. "Can I tell anyone?"
"No, you can't tell a-ny-bo-dy." Gina shook her head emphatically, auburn hair fluttering around her shoulders. "Promise?"
"We promise," they chimed.
By naptime, it was all anyone could talk about. But, because it was a real secret (and because Amy was in on it) no one told Mr. Holt or Mr. Terry.
"This is awesome," Jake said, sitting at the top of the jungle gym, feet dangling over the edge. A few feet away, Gina was sprawled out on her stomach and weaving a friendship bracelet she had no intention of giving to anyone. (Maybe Jake, but just to torment him. Or Carlene, who had all those great sparkly rings.)
Amy rolled her eyes. "We started a rumor, great. You know the day will be over soon, right?"
Indeed, after recess and tidy-up time, the day ended.
"Have a good evening, children," Mr. Holt said, as everyone ran for their cubbies.
Jake grabbed his backpack and looked at Rosa, Gina, and Amy. "You guys ready?"
"Yeah." Rosa said.
Jake nodded. "Okay, c'mon. Let's go."
"Wait, what about Charlie?" Amy pointed out, as they shuffled to the teacher's lounge in a roundabout way.
"I already took care of it," Jake assured her.
(By the carpool line, Charlie was bawling because Scully and Hitchcock had eaten his after-school snack -- which Jake had given them -- and Mr. Terry was awkwardly trying to fix the situation.)
The three of them snuck through the school, dodging groups of older kids laughing and talking amongst themselves.
"Where is Mr. Holt right now?" Jake asked, as they ducked behind some library shelves to avoid the vice principal, Mr. Podalski.
"He's grading papers in our classroom until the last daycare bus goes," Amy said.
"How do you know that?" Rosa shot her a look.
"I pay attention!" Amy said hotly, starting to redden.
"She also peeked at Mr. Holt's schedule for today," Gina said, chewing on Juicy Fruit and twirling her hair. "Are we there yet?"
"Almost," Rosa said. "Now shh."
They crept through the last set of halls, a faint musical tune following them.
Rosa smacked Jake upside the head. "Are you humming?" She glared. "Stop humming your own theme music."
Jake opened his mouth to protest but then shrugged. "'Kay. Hey Gina, keep lookout?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Fine, but you're buying me a maze book when you get comics next time." She skipped to the far end of the hall and pulled out her bedazzled Gameboy and began to tap idly at the screen.
The three of them snuck into the teacher's lounge and ducked behind a small couch just inside the door. There was Mr. Terry's cookie jar on the far counter, where the sink and teachers' fridge were.
Rosa pursed her lips. "Are you ready to run?" Jake and Rosa turned to Amy, who was suddenly nervous.
She touched her glasses and nodded determinedly. "I can do it."
They crouched behind the edge of the sofa, waiting silently for someone who wasn't a teacher to come in and head for the cookie jar. The three of them didn't have to wait long -- the steady thump of smaller feet came bounding down the hallway before skidding to a halt at the faculty lounge door. Pushing his sunglasses up into his hair, the culprit surveyed the empty teacher's lounge with satisfaction. With impunity, he headed for the small, round table and dragged a chair towards the counter.
"That's Warren Pembroke." Amy whispered. "They call him 'The Vulture' because he finishes off other kids' lunches. He's a first grader!"
"Go get Mr. Holt, Amy." Jake pushed her out from behind the couch as The Vulture pushed the chair up against the lower cabinets.
Amy dashed through the halls, her little legs carrying her across the industrial carpet faster than ever, until she rounded a corner and slammed into another person.
"America, what has gotten into you?"
She bounced back and landed on her back, ready to burst into tears, when she saw it was Mr. Holt. "Mr. Holt!" she gasped, and jumped to her feet, pain forgotten, tugging his hand. "You've got to come right now!" She pulled at his arm and led him to the teacher's lounge. "There's trouble."
"Well, we can't have that." He allowed himself to be pulled along by her small hand.
Back in the far hallway, Gina laughed quietly to herself and matched row after row of cupcakes with her stylus, lost in her game.
In the teacher's lounge, the Vulture rooted his hand through the cookie jar so hard that the entire jar -- styled like one of Pooh's pots of hunny -- rotated on its base with an unnerving whoom sound. "Cookies, cookies, cookies," he muttered, fingernails tapping against the ceramic sides and base of the jar. "Where are they?"
"We're running out of time. Should we distract him?" Rosa whispered.
Jake shook his head. "If we do, we could get in trouble."
"But if he hears Amy and Mr. Holt coming, he'll just run away."
Jake pulled his hands down his cheeks, making a grotesque face. "Argh, what do we do?"
Rosa smirked. "I got an idea." She stood and shook out her head of riotous curls. "Hey, Warren."
He stopped rooting through the jar and looked over at her. "Ro-sa," he said, emphasizing each syllable. "Why are you here?" Behind the sofa, Jake silently hid his face in his hands, shaking his head. The plan was doomed.
"I followed you, duh." She leaned against the back of the sofa, checking her nails. "Wanted to see what you were doing."
"I heard there were cookies again," he said, gesturing to the jar with his free hand. "So I came here to find them. But I think it was a trick."
"Were there cookies before?" She shrugged. "I didn't hear about any cookies."
"Oh they were soooo good, soft and chocolatey and still warm. They were amazing. I kept some in my backpack for after school, and I heard there were more."
"Is that so?" Mr. Holt stood in the doorway, mouth turned down in disapproval. "Warren, I am very disappointed in you. Your mother will not be happy to hear about this." He turned aside to reveal a pink-cheeked Amy, hair and clothes slightly mussed. "Thank you, America, for coming to get me. I'll be sure to make sure Mr. Jeffords knows that Charles is not to blame."
She dug her toe shyly into the carpet, glasses sliding down her nose. "It was Jake's plan," she said quietly, hands folded behind her back.
"I see." Mr. Holt's expression softened, and he called out, "Jacob?"
Jake stood up and dusted himself off. "Yes, Mr. Holt."
"Good work. You and Charles can choose which books we read at storytime tomorrow." He turned to the Vulture, who was trying to sneak away. "As for you, Warren, I believe we have your mother to call. Come along, now."
When the two of them were out of earshot, Jake and Rosa and Amy huddled together and high-fived each other.
"Charles Boyle, come here please."
Charlie looked up from his coloring -- this time, it was Mr. and Mrs. Cake with their new foals -- and appeared apprehensive. Jake put a steadying hand on Charlie's shoulder and pushed him towards the front of the room.
Mr. Terry looked apologetic and stood next to Charlie in front of the class. "Everyone, I have an apology to make." He knelt down in front of Charlie and looked him in the eye. "Charlie, I'm sorry I thought you took the special cookies my wife made for the class. It wasn't you, and I should have listened to your side of the story. Do you forgive me?"
Charlie gaped at Mr. Terry for a moment before nodding vigorously. "Of course I do, Mr. Terry!"
"Can I have a hug, to prove it?"
Charlie beamed and gave Mr. Terry a hug while the class cheered, no one louder than Jake and Rosa.
Later, at recess, Charlie at in Jake's usual spot, at the top of the jungle gym, feet dangling over the edge. Around him, the others were sprawled out, Jake and Amy leaning against the tic tac toe board.
"Jake," Charlie said with a sniffle, eyes welling with happy tears. "You're the best best friend ever."
Jake shrugged, embarrassed. "It wouldn't have worked if Amy hadn't gotten Mr. Holt so fast, or if Rosa hadn't distracted The Vulture."
"And me, keeping lookout!" Gina called, tapping at her Gameboy.
"You were the worst lookout ever," Rosa stated bluntly.
"Yeah, thanks, Gina," Jake replied, sarcastically.
"Haters gonna hate," Gina responded, shrugging. "You still owe me a maze book."
Charlie clutched his hands to his chest the way people always did on the covers of the books his mom liked. "Seriously, you guys are the best."
Rosa shrugged. "You didn't do it. We had to prove it. Shut up about it, already."
While Rosa and Charlie worked out how much Charlie could talk about everyone being the best, Jake slid closer to Amy. "You ran super fast," Jake said quietly, with a small smile. "Is that your other superpower?"
She rolled her eyes. "It's not a superpower," she said flatly. "I can kind of read lips, okay? And I ran into Mr. Holt halfway to his class, so I brought him to the lounge faster than we had planned. It was just luck."
"Well, it's a good thing you're lucky, then." Jake reached over and took her hand and held it in his own, ears and neck turning red.
Amy felt her whole face getting hot. "You're so weird," she said, but with affection. She squeezed his hand and let it go, standing up suddenly. "Let's play pirates!" She said loudly.
"I call crow's nest," Gina said immediately.
"First mate!" Jake called, scrambling to his feet and wiping his hand on his shorts.
"Cook?" Charlie said, hesitant.
"Captain," Rosa huffed, leaning against the jungle gym railing.
"And I'll help us get where we're going." She pumped her fist in the air. "Let's find some treasure!"
"Will there be cookies?" called a voice from below. The five of them leaned over the railing to see Hitchcock and Scully calling up to them.
"No." Rosa retorted flatly. "Everyone, to your stations." She clapped twice and the kids scattered to the far ends of the play structure, shouting, "Aye, aye, captain!"
Jake whooped, and the others joined in the cheer, until the entire playground was hollering in a rolling wave of joyful sound.
At the far end of the playground, Terry turned to Mr. Holt. "We've got some great kids, huh?"
Mr. Holt's expression softened, and his lips quirked up ever so slightly. "Yes, yes we do."