by Laura Wood
“I know that I am new to this school,” I say, finally. “I know that some of you don’t know me very well, but it didn’t take long for me to find a home here at Highworth Grange. It didn’t take long for me to find people who challenge me, or a brilliant group of friends, who have supported me.” I look at my team then, and I feel my chin wobble a bit at this. “When I started this campaign it was just me and a broom cupboard, but with the help of the amazing people sitting down there –” I gesture to my pals, who squirm in their seats “– it became something so much bigger. I’ve met lots of you now, and I’ve listened to you. I’ve shown that I can get things done, I’ve shown that I take this seriously. Some might say too seriously.”
I pause here and carefully keep my eyes from travelling to where Aaron is sitting. “But let me tell you why I take it so seriously. It’s because I think it’s important. Sometimes, when you’re a kid, but especially when you’re a girl, people want you to be quiet and well-behaved. They don’t want you to take up too much space. They don’t want you getting too excited about changing things because they like the way things are. It’s comfortable, and easy for them … but changing things is important. Things shouldn’t just stay the same; we should ask questions about what’s right and how things could be better for everyone.
“Less than a hundred years ago women couldn’t vote. Now I know that one day I could be the prime minister. That only happened because loads and loads of women made themselves bigger and noisier and didn’t listen when other people told them they were taking things too seriously.”
I pause again here, thinking about Iris and her box of newspaper clippings, of her saying that I had opportunities she could only dream of. For a second I let myself enjoy being up here onstage, I let myself enjoy being listened to and taken seriously. I think about all the girls and women who helped to make it possible by speaking up and making themselves heard. I take a deep breath. “So, I’m Effie Kostas, and yes, I’m loud, and yes, I make trouble, and yes, I want to change things, and yes, I take this seriously … but that’s exactly why you should vote for me, because I don’t just want my voice to be heard, I want your voice to be heard too. And I want to make sure that people are listening. Thank you.”
There’s a moment of silence, and I feel an overwhelming wave of panic rising inside me. Oh no. They hated it. I got it all wrong.
Then Angelika starts clapping, and Jess, and Ruby, and Kevin, and Zo. Then everyone is clapping and they’re clapping so loudly that the sound is echoing off the walls. “WOOOO! EFFIE!” I hear a girl’s voice cheer. I look over at the back of the room and there is Miss Sardana … and instead of her usual weary expression she is grinning and dabbing at her eyes. I feel a rush of joy surge through me that leaves me buzzing like I’ve drunk a hundred cups of coffee. The clapping goes on and on, getting louder. It must be as loud as it was for Aaron, I think, it’s definitely close.
“Well, thank you all,” Ms Shaarawi says now, coming to the middle of the stage. “And a very big thank-you to both of our candidates. I have to say that I am so glad that we have had this debate today because it raised a lot of important and interesting issues. This year’s campaign has been very different from the others during my time here, and I am so thrilled to see such switched-on and engaged students. You make me hopeful for the future of our school and you should both be extremely proud of yourselves, whatever the outcome is.” She smiles at me and at Aaron, who has come to stand beside me. “Voting will take place tomorrow during your morning registration, and we’ll announce the new student council at the end of the day.”
Ms Shaarawi directs everyone to leave and chatter fills the air as everyone begins filing out. I am still trembling with excitement and adrenaline as I go to collect my bag from beside my chair.
“Hey, great job, Kostas.” I hear a voice beside me, and I turn to find Aaron grinning at me. “That speech was really good.”
“Thanks,” I say frostily. “I guess I should thank you for the inspiration.”
“Yeah,” Aaron says ruefully, rubbing his neck, “I suppose at the beginning…”
“You don’t need to pretend any more.” I cut him off here. “I know what you think about me, what you’ve been saying about me and I so don’t care.”
“What are you talking about?” Aaron looks confused.
“Feeling sorry for me, laughing at me, making fun of me and my friends.” I point at him. “I heard all about it, and let me tell you, my friends are worth a MILLION of you.”
Aaron’s cheeks are turning red and he stares at me wordlessly.
“And I don’t know how many times I have to say it before it makes its way into your thick head, but I don’t LIKE you like that. OK? I don’t like you AT ALL.” My voice is an angry growl by the end.
Aaron’s own face is getting pretty angry now as well. “Well, don’t worry,” he snaps, picking up his own school bag. “You don’t have to say it again. Message received. And maybe next time you should check your facts before you pick a fight with someone.” And with that he stalks off.
I should feel victorious. I should feel good about telling him off. Instead, as I stand on the empty stage in the empty hall, I just feel confused and uncertain.
CHAPTER Thirty-One
“Election day!” a voice shouts. “ELECTION DAY ELECTION DAY ELECTION DAY!” The voice is accompanied by some serious banging sounds.
I open my eyes blearily, just in time to see Lil burst through my bedroom door, bashing two pan lids together like cymbals. “ELECTION DAAAAAAAAAY!” she screeches.
I leap out of bed. “Yeah, all right, thanks, Lil…” I croak. “I was hardly likely to forget.” It took me a long time to get to sleep last night and my eyes feel all small and gluey. I yawn a massive yawn – one that leaves me swaying on my feet.
“I brought you the glittery hair scrunchie of DESTINY!” Lil cries dramatically, dropping the pan lids with a crash and reaching into her pocket to pull out a very purple, very glittery scrunchie, which she brandishes in the air like Rafiki holding Simba in The Lion King. “It’s for luck,” she adds.
“Thank you,” I say, touched by my sister’s thoughtfulness. Even though it is sparkly and ridiculous I slip the scrunchie on to my wrist, and I do think I feel a teeny tiny bit braver.
“So, when you’re president,” Lil says, “will I get special privileges? Will I be like the Presidential Sister? Do I get a title? I was thinking Empress of State has a nice ring to it…”
“You don’t get anything,” I mumble, “and I haven’t won yet.” I think back to yesterday’s debate. It went well, but did it go well enough? People really seemed to enjoy my speech, but the cheering was just as loud for Aaron … maybe even a little bit louder. I suppose I have to admit that he did an all right-ish job in the end. Even if he was just playing up to the crowd.
My insides feel all jumbled up, as if they are swirling around in a washing machine. I want to win so badly – there are people counting on me. What if I let them down? I try to push the feelings aside, but they are too big and too noisy to ignore.
When I get downstairs, Dad has made banana pancakes and he seems even more nervous than me.
“I just want you to know,” he insists, “that win or lose, we’re all so proud of you for doing this.”
“I do know, Dad,” I say, trying to remain patient. “You’ve told me four times since I sat down for breakfast. You and Mum both told me last night. It’s written in the good-luck card you slipped under the door. You wrote PROUD OF YOU in chocolate chips on my pancakes. Honestly, I get it.”
“It’s just…” Dad is starting to get choked up now, and Lil and I share a slightly panicked look. He’s so soppy once he gets going.
“I hope he’s not going to start talking about when they brought you back from the hospital,” Lil whispers to me.
“When I think about the day we brought you back from the hospital…” Dad sniffles and Lil’s head hits the table. “You were so tiny…”
“Love … you … too…” Dad chokes as I speed away and out of the front door, as I glance over my shoulder I see Lil standing next to him, a pained expression on her face.
“There, there,” she says, patting Dad gingerly on the arm as he sniffles into a piece of kitchen towel. “It’s not as bad as when you had to leave me for my first day of primary school, is it?”
“Oooooh!” Dad howls.
I beat a hasty retreat.
Outside the school gates I find the whole team waiting for me.
“So, today’s the day!” Angelika says brightly, slipping her arm through mine.
They all look almost as nervous as I feel. There’s a big lump in my throat as I look at them. We’ve worked so hard, and this whole thing is about all of us. It might be my name on the ballot but if I lose I’m going to have let them all down. I can hardly bear to think about it.
“Well, at least I know I’ll be getting six votes.” I smile weakly at them.
“I don’t know.” Kevin taps his chin. “I did like what Aaron had to say about the pizza…” Ruby wallops him on the arm. “Joking, joking!” he says quickly.
“Listen,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I just need you guys to know that whatever happens, working with you has been the best thing about this whole election. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
We all huddle into a sort of group hug then.
The bell rings with a shrill Brrrrrrrrrrrrr! And I shiver. It’s time for morning registration, and that means time for everyone to cast their votes. I feel a wave of panic washing over me at the thought of it.
“Come on then,” Jess says. “Let’s go and vote for Effie.”
We all follow her inside.
The day drags out as slowly as you would expect. I think my lessons are going to go on and on for ever and ever. It’s like time has slowed down, like my teachers are talking in slow motion. I’m so nervous and wound up that by the time the bell finally goes late in the afternoon to tell us it’s time for the special assembly where the announcements will be made, I think I might throw up or faint, or throw up THEN faint.
When I get up to the stage again Aaron is already waiting there. Even he looks nervous; his mouth is in a thin straight line as he fiddles with his tie.
“Davis,” I say briskly.
“Kostas,” he replies, not meeting my eye.
“Hello, everybody!” I jump as Ms Shaarawi arrives on the stage. “I don’t want to keep everyone in suspense for too long, so I will just get on with it.” I breathe a sigh of relief here. “So, the results are in, and we’ll begin with junior student secretary.” Ms Shaarawi looks down at the piece of paper in her hand. “And the winner is, Angelika Lisowski!” I clap so hard that my hands hurt and cheer as loudly as I can. Even though Angelika was the only one to run I think that’s partly because everyone knew she would be the best person for the job. Angelika stands up from her seat and takes a bow and we share a grin. I’m so pleased for her, but now it seems as though the butterflies in my stomach are flapping up a real storm. Angelika’s in again, but what about me?
Ms Shaarawi announces the role of treasurer next, a girl I don’t know called Charlotte. I think Luna looks relieved … she’s pretty busy with all her other societies.
Finally, finally it’s time to announce the winner of junior class president. Aaron and I stand side by side. I look out into the audience and catch Angelika’s eye. “GOOD LUCK,” she mouths. I nod. My knees are shaking so hard it’s taking pretty much all my concentration just to make sure I don’t fall over.
“And this year the competition between our two candidates for president has been really tight,” Ms Shaarawi says. “In fact, there were fewer than twenty votes between them.” I feel my heart squeeze at this. “And before I announce the winner, I just think we should have a round of applause for Effie and Aaron, who have both worked very hard.” I smile grimly as everyone applauds politely. I wish she’d get on with it.
“So without further ado,” Ms Shaarawi says, “the junior class president this year is…” There’s a pause where the room goes so quiet you could hear a feather drop, never mind a pin.
It seems to go on for ever and ever.
I find myself wondering how old I am now.
Am I an old lady?
This pause has been going on for so long that my life seems to pass before me. Soon I’ll be just a pile of dust on this stage and people will sing folk songs about it.
Ms Shaarawi clears her throat and it seems our wait might be over.
“… Aaron Davis!” she exclaims.
Whoosh! I feel all the air leave my body.
I lost, I think numbly.
I really lost.
I try and make sense of how I’m feeling; I try and come up with any other thoughts, but it’s as though those two words are the only thing left in my brain, written in huge black letters.
I. Lost.
I close my eyes briefly, as the cheers for Aaron fill my ears. I plaster on a wobbly smile and turn to face him. He looks as shocked as I feel. I hold out my hand and he takes it, wrapping his fingers around mine. We shake solemnly.
“Congratulations,” I choke out.
“Thank you,” he says, dazed. “I thought it would be you.”
I don’t know what to say to that so I just shrug awkwardly. “You did really well,” I say.
“So did you,” Aaron replies, and I think he means it. Not that it’s much comfort at the moment.
“OK, well, congratulations to our new student council,” Ms Shaarawi says, “and can we have another round of applause for everyone.”
I can’t look at the audience; I can’t bear to see my friends. I can’t bear to see the pity on all those faces. As soon as I can, I drift off the stage in a complete stupor and rush through the corridors. I don’t even know exactly where I’m headed until I arrive outside the cupboard door. I yank it open and disappear inside.
I don’t turn the light on, preferring to hide here in the darkness for a while.
I sit on one of the cushions with my knees pulled up to my chest. I don’t know how long I sit there in silence. Finally, there’s a light tap on the door, and someone pushes it open. It’s Zo. I can see the silhouette of her coat in the doorway.
“Hi, Zo,” I sniffle.
Zo closes the door behind her and comes to sit beside me in the dark. Her silent presence is comforting. We sit for a minute in the quiet; the only sound is me sniffing sadly.
Then a small voice breaks the silence. “Are you OK?” Zo asks. Her voice is low and a little croaky and I am so surprised to hear it that it shocks me out of my tears. I can feel Zo’s arm on my shoulder and my body sags into hers.
“Not really,” I admit, finally.
There’s more silence then. Perhaps that’s the end of the conversation. After all, those three words are the first I have heard Zo speak at all. It means a lot that she used her voice to help me feel less alone.
“I think you were brilliant.” Zo’s voice wavers in the darkness then. “Doing what you did. It was so brave. I couldn’t have been so brave.”
“Oh, well…” I say awkwardly, my heart bumping slightly.
“No,” Zo interrupts, firmly. “I couldn’t. Before you decided to run, before I joined your team, I was too scared to do anything. Not just talk.” She gives a little chuckle here. “I know I still don’t do much of that. But I could hardly stand to come into school. Since I’ve been part of this group I’ve been to school every day,” Zo continues. “I went to a dance,” she marvels. “I have friends. I didn’t think that would happen.” There’s a little pause. “I was bullied at my last school. It was … really bad. In the end I just refused to go, and my mum moved me here. I couldn’t talk to anyone. I couldn’t join in. I thought if I tried then it would all start again.” There’s another pause and I hold my breath. I can’t believe Zo is sharing all of this with me. It’s as if every w
ord is an effort, being pulled out of her, and I don’t want to interrupt.
“When I heard about you, and when I saw your poster, I knew that you had been on your own as well. I saw you at lunchtimes, sitting by yourself, but you didn’t see me. I used to just get my lunch and then go and eat in the toilets. But I thought maybe … maybe we could be friends. I loved working with you and I believe in you, in all the things you’re going to do.” Zo shuffles in her seat. “When you talked about setting up the mentoring campaign, and about making sure that no one had to eat their lunch by themselves, I felt like finally someone had seen me. What you’re doing is important. You can’t stop now. Not just because you lost a stupid election. I won’t let you.” With that Zo lets out a long, shuddering breath.
I’m kind of glad she can’t see the tears running down my cheeks. I reach out and throw my arms around her. “Thanks, Zo,” I mutter into her shoulder. “Thank you so much. I – I really needed that.”
“That’s all right.” Zo laughs again into the darkness. We sit quietly for another moment and even though I’m still sad, it feels as if Zo’s words were a little sliver of light breaking through the clouds. If the campaign made a difference to even one person then it must all have been worth it. At least, that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself until I believe it.
CHAPTER Thirty-Two
“Oh, it’s you,” Iris greets me a little later. “Come in then, you’re letting all the cold air in.” She has already turned away from the door and is hobbling back inside. When we get to the kitchen, Lennon is getting some exercise and he flies around the room before settling on Iris’s shoulder, where he headbutts her affectionately.
