The bell rang.
“Chairs, everyone. Including you, ladies.” Mr. Perry waited for everyone to sit. “Now. Before we start announcements, I want everyone to give a big round of applause to Taylor. Thanks to him, you do not have to hear me repeat myself on the subject of class elections yet again.”
Logan interrupted the dutiful snickers. “So new kid.” He glared at Taylor. “Let me see if I got this. You haven’t even been here a day, and you think you got what it takes to be class president?”
Taylor shrugged. “I’m as surprised by my nomination as you are.”
Logan didn’t relax his glare at all. “You just got here. You know no one. Who would nominate you?”
I flinched reflexively, knocking my pencil case to the floor. I knelt to pick it up, hitting my head on the edge of the desk as I sat up. With a loud crash, my binder, copy of Wuthering Heights and textbook all hit the floor. When I got back into my seat, everyone in the class was staring at me.
“Now that the mystery of Taylor’s nomination has been solved, we can move on to step two.” Mr. Perry leaned back against his desk. “Is there anyone who would like to nominate another candidate?”
“I call bull.”
“Logan,” Mr. Perry said mildly. “This is English class. If you call bull, you have to provide at least three citations—”
“I only need one.” Logan snatched the paper off Fern’s desk, flinging it toward the teacher. “This is a stunt to generate a story for his stupid newspaper!”
“It’s not stupid!” I was on my feet at once, sending my binder to the floor a second time. “We’re a newspaper, not a soapbox! We take our stories seriously, too seriously to sink to tabloid stunts! I didn’t nominate Taylor for the paper. I nominated him for the school.”
Logan scoffed. “For the school?”
“Maybe you didn’t read last week’s editorial, but in the last month, the amount of juniors late for school, skipping class and receiving detentions increased dramatically. That’s why we’ve had all those assemblies about school spirit lately. Without a voice on the student council, we feel disenfranchised and apathetic. More than usual, even. Candice compared it to—” I looked at the blank expressions on my classmates’ faces. “It doesn’t matter what Candice compared it to. What matters is that we are acting like everyone expects teenagers to act. We are proving our parents and teachers right. Do you want to be a stereotype? Because I don’t. And that’s why I nominated Taylor. Yeah, I’ve only known him for a day, but I already know that he cares about making a difference in the world, and he’s not afraid to speak up for the stuff that matters. So there.” I sat down.
There were a few laughs.
“Hey, if it gets us out of any more of those stupid assemblies…” Boomer shrugged. “Anything’s better than another lecture from Mr. Nesbitt about how it was in his day, right, Lo?”
Logan shook his head. “This is crap. We voted for Carson. We should get Carson. The school’s not happy we don’t have a junior class president? So what. It’s their fault we don’t have one. Just because the school board is a bunch of ass—”
“Stopping you there,” Mr. Perry interrupted. “That is personal opinion, Logan, not fact— well, not without a lot of secondary sources. But as Carson and Blake are no longer students at Bernhardt, the juniors need a new class president and vice president—”
“Says who?” Logan stood, insolently crossing his arms across his chest. He was taller and wider than Mr. Perry. Than anyone in the class except Boomer. “We decided. It’s Carson or nothing.”
“I second Taylor for president.”
The class turned to stare.
Lily leaned back in her chair, kicking her boots up on to her desk. “We didn’t decide. You decided. You want to make decisions for us, you run for class president.”
There was a murmur that sounded like agreement, but Logan interrupted.
“That’s not a bad idea. We should have a president who actually knows how stuff works here. Someone who’ll get things done.”
There was a long silence.
“Someone like me.”
Still nothing. Logan elbowed Boomer.
Boomer dropped his head, avoiding eye contact. “I nominate—”
“I nominate Fern!”
Everyone stared at Declan.
“Fern?”
“Me?” Fern’s expression was proof that you didn’t need permission to nominate a candidate. “I can’t be class president!”
“Why not?” Declan turned to her. “You wrote Carson’s campaign speech for him, right? No one knew Carson’s platform better, not even Carson. You know Bernhardt, you’re organized and you care about making the formal happen.”
Fern bit her lip. “I don’t know…” Her gaze traveled the room, fell on me and suddenly she nodded. “I accept the nomination.”
“Two candidates! This is truly a cornucopia of candidacy. Does anyone want to add a third? No? Then I will direct your attention to where we left off last class. Kathy—”
The class reluctantly opened our books. I glanced over at Taylor. Was I the only one who’d noticed he hadn’t accepted his nomination?
****
I was tripped in the hall. By the time I arrived at drawing, Ms. Cox had given permission for us to use the period to make campaign posters. Taylor was at the center of a ring of girls who giggled as they worked.
I put my bag down on the adjacent table. “Can I speak to Taylor a moment?”
“Sure,” Madison said, frowning as she sketched. “But you’re not allowed to make him move.”
Taylor’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile— if he’d been allowed to move. “What’s up?”
“Being nominated. I mean, you didn’t say you were cool with it—”
“The guy who threw the tantrum in English decided it for me. I don’t think I could handle a year of having him tell me what to do.”
The anxious wobble in my stomach settled, and I smiled back. “Really?”
“Logan’s a jerk, anyway,” Alice said, frowning as she concentrated on her sketch. “I don’t know why we let him get away with as much as he does. He’s not even that cute.”
I took out my sketchbook. “He’s on the varsity football team. And he’s dating a senior.”
“She’s pity-dating him. He’s only her number-three boyfriend.”
“Number-three boyfriend?” Taylor asked.
“Of course. Guys do it, so why can’t girls? You’re for equality, right?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t imagine equality like that.”
“If people were more open and honest and accepting of each other’s needs and desires, the world would be a better place,” Madison continued. “It’s very feminist.”
“Does Logan know he’s boyfriend number three?”
“No. He thinks he’s number two.” The girls cackled.
“If you’re such ardent feminists, shouldn’t you be supporting Fern’s campaign?” Taylor asked.
“Fern’s so old-fashioned. You know, she’s only dated Carson, and since he left school, she hasn’t been on a single date. With anyone.”
“She’s too busy studying. I heard she’s even tutoring Logan, helping him with his homework.”
“Ugh, I hate when a woman’s subservient to a man like that. I haven’t handed in a single piece of work in English all year.” Madison tucked her hair behind her ear.
Alice paused in her sketching to look at her friend. “You know that counts toward our final grade, right?”
“That’s oppression!”
“How many boyfriends does Milo have?” Taylor asked quickly before an argument could develop.
I started, my charcoal sliding forward over my art paper in a very unfortunate way. “Me?”
“Zero,” Madison said. “Not since he was dumped by the basketball team.”
Taylor blinked. “The team?”
“Not like that!”
“Mr. Markopoulos, that is not classroo
m volume.”
“Sorry, Ms. Cox.” I sat back down, picking up my sketchbook again and very grimly not looking at anyone else. “It was not the basketball team. I was dating Boomer.”
“And he dumped you because his teammates made him. Therefore…” Alice smirked.
“You don’t know that,” I hissed. “Maybe I wasn’t a very good boyfriend. Maybe we fought. Maybe he was already planning on dumping me. You just don’t know.”
“Milo, this is your second warning. And Madison, Alice, if this chatter keeps up, I will be separating the pair of you.”
“Yes, Ms. Cox,” Alice, Madison and I chorused in unison.
She paused behind Taylor. “You haven’t done a single piece of work this entire period.”
“I’d like to,” Taylor said. “But I can’t work without moving, and if I move…”
“Don’t! You’ll ruin my poster!”
“That does make it difficult,” Ms. Cox agreed. “Well, do your best.”
As she moved around the class, Alice and Madison struck up their conversation with Taylor again. I concentrated on my sketch, but even when Taylor stayed perfectly still, there was a quality to him that just didn’t translate to charcoal and paper.
“You should be very proud of yourself, Milo,” Ms. Cox said as the bell rang and Taylor was finally allowed to stretch.
I was jarred out of my contemplation of Taylor’s physique by her comment. “Why? It doesn’t look anything like him.”
Ms. Cox beamed at me. “You were silent for almost twenty minutes. Maybe Taylor should model for us more often.”
“No thanks,” Taylor said, pushing past us into the hall. “Class president will be bad enough.”
I lost him in the crowded hall, but that was all right. I had an interview with Fern.
****
“The more I think about it, the happier I am to be nominated,” Fern said. “I was talking to Declan about your article just before English. That must have been why he thought of me at all.”
I looked up from my sandwich. “My article?”
Fern nodded. “About the shelter. I went there after last year’s formal and ended up spending the day playing with the kids. I always meant to go back, but I got so busy with school—”
“Don’t beat yourself up over that.” Declan tapped his fingers on the table. “You can’t do everything, Fern. You’re not Supergirl.”
I was not sure why interviewing Fern necessitated interviewing Declan, too, but we’d gotten permission to eat lunch in an empty classroom on account of their school spirit, so I wasn’t complaining.
“That’s what you think.” Fern elbowed him cheerfully. “Anyway, Milo. You’re interviewing me; what do you want to ask?”
I blinked, looking down at my almost empty notebook. I’d entirely forgotten the story. Fern was good.
Scratch that.
Fern was dangerous.
“Let’s see. You make straight A’s, you’re on the school Spirit Squad, if I listed all the committee work you’ve done, I would blow the newspaper’s printing budget for the month… You’re obviously qualified for class president. I guess the biggest question I have is do you have time for it?”
“You can always make time,” Fern assured me. “In freshman year, I didn’t think I’d have time for hockey, studying, the library committee, and the volunteer squad, but I did all that and signed up for the drama club, too. I’d never have imagined me picking up cheerleading! Of course, I had to let some things go. Chess club, for instance, and I haven’t done anything with the Meatless Mondays campaign this semester.”
Making notes, I paused. Fern had been in the chess club?
“Milo’s not interested in that, Fern. You’re promoting yourself as class president candidate. Concentrate on all the things you have done.” Declan counted them off on his fingers. “You went from picking up cheerleading for the first time last year to making the A-squad this year. You’ve represented the school as a hockey player, your essay on Amelia Earhart won first prize in the state Women’s History Month essay competition, you performed in a garage band last year—”
“Wait up!” I scribbled furiously. “Are we sure she’s not Supergirl?”
Fern laughed. “Don’t you start, Milo. You’re supposed to be impartial.”
“I can be impressed and still impartial.” I turned to a new page. “What are you goals as class president?”
“Making sure the winter formal is a success for everyone,” Fern said immediately.
“And you believe you can do that?”
“Totally. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s committees.”
“You’ve never been to one of Fern’s parties,” Declan said. “She knows how to have a good time.”
“Declan’s being too kind. He knows I couldn’t do it without help. And the drama club is the best at parties. Especially when it comes to decorations on a budget.” She smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “No one is better than the drama club at making an impression.”
I was pretty sure the impression was all Fern. “Aren’t you worried that it might be hard to create an event that will appeal to all the different student groups at Bernhardt?”
“Not at all. I’ve worked with most of our class on different events, and I’m confident that I can coordinate a formal everyone will enjoy. I’m also experienced at speaking in meetings, so representing my peers at student council and board meetings will not be a problem.”
It was hard imagining Fern having a problem with anything. “I hate to ask this, really, I do, but—”
“Carson? It’s okay.” Fern looked down at her hands. “Declan warned me you’d have to ask. Of course, I’m upset about what happened, but I think it’s time to move on. And like Declan said in English, I know what Carson’s campaign was built on, so I can carry it on.”
“Are you still dating?”
Fern shook her head.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize. In some ways, it’s a good thing. I mean, if Carson and I were dating, I wouldn’t have time to run for class president.”
Declan snorted. “Your workload would be exactly the same. The only difference is now you get credit for it.”
“Declan! You’re so mean.”
“Just looking out for you. And on that note, Fern, why don’t you go ahead and get us seats in history?” Declan put his hand on my shoulder, preventing me from standing. “I want to talk with Milo a moment.” He kept his hand where it was until the door had shut behind Fern. “FYI, Milo.” He pulled his smartphone out of his blazer pocket. “I recorded this entire interview.”
I looked from the phone to Declan’s smug expression. “You what?”
“If anything appears in your article that Fern did not say, I’m taking this to Principal Kim.”
I slammed my hands on the table as I stood. “Are you accusing me of making stuff up?”
“You’ve always been better at fiction than fact, Milo.” Declan shouldered his bag, dropping his phone back into his blazer pocket. “Though not even very good at that. Return our trays, will you?” He walked out.
“Hey!” I hastily slid all our plates together, stacking the three trays and stuffing my notebook into my bag. “I don’t know where you get off accusing me of—”
I paused. Declan had come to a halt in front of me. Peeking around him, I could see why.
Alexis stood in the middle of the hall. She’d just taken hold of Taylor’s blazer collar, and as we watched, she went to her tiptoes to press her mouth against his.
Taylor made a soft noise of surprise, the only sound in the entire hall. I don’t think anyone breathed, not until Alexis let go, stepping back and gently patting Taylor on his cheek. “I’ll see you after school,” she said. “To work on your campaign.”
As she sashayed away, the rest of the hall exploded into chatter, as if to prove they hadn’t been staring.
Declan snorted. “That’s one way to get votes. Going to incl
ude that in your election write-up, Milo?”
****
Sent.
I slumped face forward onto my keyboard. The election report was done. Declan couldn’t accuse me of bias. My candidate profile on Fern was as upbeat and polished as Fern herself. She’d have no problems running for president— if Taylor wasn’t running against her.
I sighed, sliding off my chair to the floor. Taylor’s campaign group didn’t have all that much time to prepare for the elections. They’d probably be hard at work even now.
“You’re being ridiculous. You knew this would happen!”
I just hadn’t expected it to happen so fast.
No, I decided. There was no need to dwell. Taylor getting a girlfriend was inevitable. There were other more productive ways of spending my time than wondering if he had enjoyed kissing Alexis. My article completed; I had homework to do. I rolled over and hit my elbow on the bookcase corner.
When I was done hurting, my eyes fell on a thick book on the bottom shelf. Our freshman yearbook. I flicked through it quickly, settling on the chess club. “Weird.” There were only two girls in the club, and neither of them were Fern. “No way.”
It was Fern. Her hair was brown and plaited, and she wore glasses so thick they might have been coke bottles. I curled up on my bed with the book. No wonder I didn’t recognize her! The other girl in the club looked vaguely familiar too, but I couldn’t place her.
I frowned at the picture. Was this why Declan had warned me? But Fern’s makeover was nothing if not another example of her amazing accomplishments. And she wasn’t the only one. Most of the photos in the yearbook focused on the seniors, but here and there were familiar faces. Declan before he lost weight. Boomer before his growth spurt. Me before my braces were removed. Dark times.
I shuddered and turned the page to the homecoming committee. “Now, they haven’t changed.” Even as freshmen, Victoria and Maria were polished and put together, easily the prettiest girls in our year. But I did not remember the girl sitting between them. “Sara?”
I got out last year’s yearbook, flicking through the pages to see if I could find her anywhere. Instead, I discovered something disconcerting. “Oh man. Lisa.” Lisa was the only other freshman to join the newspaper in our first year. We’d been friends until sophomore year when she’d pronounced the newspaper as uncool and taken up cheerleading. Seeing her sitting with Victoria and Maria on the homecoming committee was jarring. I couldn’t remember seeing her all year.
The Biggest Scoop Page 5
