"Are you kidding?" asked Joe's year older, brown-haired, brown-eyed brother, Frank. "Mummies, pyramids, pharaohs, that stuff is cool."
"Then you go take my test for me," Joe told him, pushing his notebook back and standing up. He stretched. "I've got to have a break," he said. "I think I'll head down to the burger joint," he said. "Wanna come?"
"If you don't pass your test, Dad's not going to let you solve any more mysteries until your grades come back up," Frank warned him.
"I know," Joe said. "But I'm not worried. I've been studying for hours and I've paid close attention in class. There's no way I am not going to pass this test. I just need a little break and I'll come back and study some more later," he promised.
"Okay," Frank said. He shook his head. "I'm going to pass," he said. "I've got an exam in chemistry tomorrow so I'm going to study some more."
Joe shook his head in disgust as Frank buried his head in his book. Frank was a straight A student. He had a photographic memory for crying out loud. He didn't need to study, but that's all he ever did, all night, before an exam. Joe wished he could be a great student, but no, he had to keep hearing how he should be more studious like Frank. His parents always got so excited over Frank's straight A's. His own report cards had an A or two too. Okay, so he made a few C's and B's, but he tried hard. He just couldn't always understand what his teachers were talking about.
Joe made his way to Bob's Burger Joint and went inside. The only person he saw that he normally hung out with was Callie so after he got his food he strolled over and took a seat opposite her.
"Gave up on studying?" she asked. Blond-haired, green-eyed, seventeen-year old Callie Shaw was his brother's girlfriend, but they had history together.
Joe nodded. "You too?" he asked.
"Too many gods," she said with a shake of the head.
"Those were easy," Joe said. "My problem is remembering which pyramid belonged to which pharaoh and when each one was found," he added, picking up his burger and taking a bite out of it.
"How about we go to the library?" Callie suggested. "I'll help you with your trouble and you help me with mine?"
"Deal," Joe said. "Maybe we can both pass this monster test."
Three and a half hours later Joe returned home. "Where have you been?" Frank demanded when Joe walked into the house. "You said you were going to come back and study."
"Chill," Joe ordered. "I bumped into your girlfriend at Bob's Burger Joint. We went to the library and studied together. She was up on the pharaohs and helped me out and I led her down the path lined with tribute," he said. "Those Egyptians were really messed up. I thought only the Greeks had so many do's and don'ts when it related to the gods."
"Well, let's go to bed," Frank said, no longer angry. "You've got to pass that test tomorrow so you need a good night's rest." Frank couldn't bare it if Joe failed this test. Their dad had said in no uncertain terms that if Joe failed his history exam then there would be no more detective work for him until the report cards came out and he had raised all his grades to at least B's.
"Yahoo!" Joe said, coming into the lunch room the next day and sitting down with Frank and their friends, blond, beefy Biff Hooper, chubby blond Chet Morton, and dark-haired, olive-skinned, Tony Prito. "I passed!"
"You got your score already?" asked Callie, joining them.
"No," Joe admitted. "But I aced it. It was easy," he added. "What say we all go out tonight and celebrate?"
"Better wait until Dad sees the grade," Frank advised. "You're still grounded because of the last bad grade you brought home."
"I don't see what the fuss is all about," Chet said. "I bring home C's and D's all the time."
"Yeah, but our deal was that our investigating wouldn't interfere with our grades," Joe said.
"Which means, we have to keep or improve the grades we were making before we started solving mysteries," Frank said. "Joe's been letting his slide."
"I know, I know," Joe said, exasperated. He had heard this from Frank before. "I'm trying now. Really!" Joe insisted when everyone looked at him.
After lunch, Joe went to his locker to grab his books. He had study hall next period and he was going to work on his homework. Arriving at class, Mr. Davis informed Joe that his history teacher had requested he report to his room instead. Frowing, Joe went to see Mr. Johnson.
"Hello, Joe," Mr. Johnson said as Joe entered. "Come in and close the door." Joe came in and sat down in a chair in the front row and looked at his teacher. Brad Johnson was new this year. He had moved from some place out west and started teaching at Bayport High School when the old history teacher left on maternity leave a couple of weeks ago. He was a tall man with black hair and steely blue eyes. He was muscular and it was obvious he worked out a lot. Not an inch of fat could be seen on him and this was unusual for a man who weighed in at two hundred and sixty pounds.
Mr. Johnson put down the eraser he had been using to clear the board and came over to Joe and sat on the edge of the desk. Joe hated being crowded, but he couldn't very well tell his teacher to back up. "I've been looking over your grades for this term and they aren't very good," Mr. Johnson told Joe. "Today's test was of extreme importance to your grade. Nothing less than a B would keep you from failing this class."
"I know," Joe said. "But I think I aced this one. I studied a lot and I am going to put more effort into my studies," he promised.
"You will need to," Mr. Johnson said. "I suggest you have a tutoring session, say twice a week," Mr. Johnson stated to Joe's surprise. "I will help you pass this class, but you will need to come over to my house for your sessions."
"So I did make a B or an A on this test?" Joe asked.
"That depends," Mr. Johnson said, staring into Joe's eyes.
"On what?" Joe asked.
"On whether or not you will let me tutor you."
"I'll get tutoring," Joe agreed. "My brother's real smart and I'm sure he won't mind to.."
"I said, I will tutor you," Mr. Johnson said.
"I appreciate that," Joe said, smiling a bit uneasily. Mr. Johnson had risen and walked behind him and set his hands on Joe's shoulders. "But there's no sense in your using your free time for that," Joe told him. "We can make arrangements so you'll know I'm getting..."
"That's not good enough, Joseph," Mr. Johnson said. "If you want to pass this test, you will let me teach you."
"Teach me what?" Joe asked with a dry throat.
"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" Mr. Johnson asked, massaging Joe's shoulders. "This is a required course. You play by my rules, you pass this class. If you don't cooperate, not only do you fail this class, but also your junior year."