by Rachel Wise
“Why not? Let’s do it!” he said.
We high-fived, and then I looked at my watch. “Darn it! I’m going to be late!” I said; then I clapped my hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I wish we had more time!”
“Thanks,” said Anthony with a smile. “Me too. You’re easy to talk to.”
“Anything else I should know about you before I go? Save any toddlers from drowning or anything?”
He laughed and shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Don’t worry. I think that’s probably a good thing!” I said. “Thanks. I’ll get in touch about Allie ASAP.”
“Thanks, Sam!”
I did end up being late for Slices. And the other three girls were halfway through their pizza when I arrived, breathless.
“I’m so sorry!” I cried, lunging into the booth to where Hailey had set my two slices and Coke.
But no one seemed perturbed by my lateness.
“First she says no to the cute boys; then she’s late . . . !” joked Hailey.
“Sorry,” I said guiltily. “Michael said he and some friends might, just might come, and if so they’ll meet us after for ice cream. They probably won’t make it, though. You know how boys are so disorganized.” Then I thought of Anthony and, actually, Michael too, and I corrected myself. “Well, some of them are disorganized. Anyway, how much time do we have before we have to leave for the movie?”
Kristen looked at her watch. “Ten minutes.”
“Phew,” I said, and relaxed a little.
“Yeah, we know you wouldn’t want to miss a minute of it,” said Jenna, her eyes twinkling.
Hailey fluffed her hair and tossed her head. “Well, I sure wouldn’t!”
We all laughed. “We know!” I said, taking a bite of the crispy, thin-crust pizza.
“So who were you interviewing?” asked Jenna, sipping at the dregs of her soda.
I swallowed hard and said, “Anthony Wright!”
“Oh yeah! How was he?” asked Kristen.
“Actually . . . I’m not supposed to say, because I’m an unbiased reporter.” I took another bite of pizza and smiled.
“Come on! Just tell us objectively!” said Jenna.
I looked at them all point-blank as I chewed and then swallowed. “He was awesome.” I took another bite.
“Whaaaat? Anthony Wright? Are you serious?” said Hailey incredulously. “How?”
At this rate I was never going to finish eating in time. “Let’s just say this guy has seriously done his homework. He’s not promising glamorous stuff, but he is realistic and has some really cool ideas that he’s able to follow through on. I thought he was really, really good.”
“Is he promising steam showers in the locker room like John Scott’s going to get us?” asked Hailey.
“Yeah, or a new art studio with a glass wall to let the northern light in?” asked Jenna. “John’s going to get us that, too.”
“And a new gymnastics studio. I can’t wait!” said Kristen.
“Wow,” I said, starting to feel even more skeptical about John Scott. “That guy’s got a lot more promises than Anthony Wright. But Anthony’s are at least realistic. I think he could really win.”
Hailey looked thoughtful. “Too bad he’s so nerdy.”
“Yeah,” agreed Jenna. “He needs a makeover.”
“Bingo!” I cried, pointing my greasy, wadded-up napkin at her. “My thoughts exactly. And who’s just the person to do the job?” I asked them all.
“You?” said Jenna tentatively.
Kristen was stumped.
Hailey’s eyes widened as she got it. “Allie!” she breathed reverently. Hailey worships Allie. “O-M-G, Sammy, that is genius.”
“What is Allie, like, the Makeover Queen?” asked Kristen.
“Mm-hmm,” I said through a mouthful of pizza.
“You have no idea,” said Hailey worshipfully.
I crunched on my crust and looked at my watch. “Should we head out?” I asked.
Everyone stood up and tossed their garbage; then we made our way over to the theater. Sure enough, who was in line but old Mikey himself. Hailey flashed a megawatt grin of happiness for me, and I smiled back. I caught Michael searching the crowd, and when he saw me, he stopped and grinned. “There you are!” he called. I waved. “See you in there!” He nodded. “Girls’ night!” he replied, and he continued on to the ticket taker.
I smiled happily to myself and turned back to my friends, who were all grinning at me.
“He might not come,” teased Hailey.
“Oh, shush, you!” I said happily.
Chapter 7
BEST FRIEND IS MORTIFIED, REFUSES TO BE COMFORTED
Opening night of a new scary movie is wild in our town. The show was sold out (thankfully Hailey had had her dad buy our tickets online in advance), and we were lucky to find four seats together. Of course, we were smushed up against the wall, but it was better than being scattered. I craned my head to search the theater and find Michael, finally locating the cute back of his head in the middle toward the front. He was with annoying Jeff Perry (rogue photographer!), his friend Frank Duane, and a couple of other guys I didn’t recognize from behind.
Hailey sat first, against the wall, then Jenna, Kristen, and me. Jenna and Kristen volunteered to go get snacks, and Hailey and I held down the fort, talking across the two empty seats.
“So was Anthony up for meeting Allie?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, definitely. Whatever it takes, he said.”
Hailey nodded. “You think he’ll ask you to be his VP?” she joked.
“Nah. He’s so good, I don’t even think he needs one! But maybe we should try to think up a few suggestions for him anyway.” I thought about who could balance him out. “He could use a girl, someone with a good reputation, if not downright popular, someone sporty, maybe not as academic as him. Someone . . .”
Suddenly Hailey let out an ear-piercing scream.
“What?” I jumped out of my seat and stared at her. She was pointing at the wall where a centipede was wiggling toward the light fixture.
Now, everyone has their phobias, and I know they’re not rational. I hate snakes (normal), Allie hates mice (totally average), my mom hates roaches (common), but Hailey has phobias about clowns and centipedes. A little odd, don’t you think? Go figure.
“Hails, it’s all right.” I grabbed my notebook out of my bag and stood and tried to give it a whack, but I couldn’t reach it.
“Sam! It’s crawling toward me now!” shrieked Hailey, her knees pulled up in front of her as if it were coming at her from the floor. “Get it!”
I flailed spastically at the multilegged insect as it wiggled across the wall, and I could feel people turning to stare.
Heroic Battle: Girl vs. . . . Centipede?
“Sam! EEEK!” screeched Hailey as I tried to whack it and fell over like the spaz that I am. I stood up to see a dad in the row in front of us give it a good whack with a newspaper, and it fell, dead, onto the floor, where the dad picked it up with a napkin and smiled at us.
“Thanks,” muttered Hailey weakly.
Just then, Jenna and Kristen returned with the snacks and asked what was going on, and the lights started to dim. They hustled into their seats and handed out the candy and popcorn. I was just starting to relax when a boy’s voice from down to the left yelled, “Eek, Sam! A mouse! Get it!” in a perfect imitation of Hailey. The crowd erupted in laughter, and as I turned to smile at Hailey, I found her pushing past me out of the row, up the aisle, and out of the theater.
I watched her go and then turned to Jenna and handed her my snacks. “I’ll be right back,” I said, and I went after Hailey.
I found her outside the theater, crying and mopping her face with a napkin. I put my arms around her for a hug, but Hailey just stood there stiffly.
“Hails, it was a joke,” I said.
“A joke? It was humiliating!” she cried. “
I’m never going to the movies again!”
“Oh, Hailey,” I said lamely.
“Go back in. You don’t need to stay here with me. I’ll just call my mom to come get me,” she said, sniffling. Best Friend Is Mortified, Refuses to Be Comforted.
“No way. I’m not leaving you.”
“But the movie . . .”
“Hailey, really? I think I’ll live.”
“All your stuff is in there,” she said lamely, not trying that hard to get rid of me. I think my staying was actually making her feel a tad better.
I shrugged. “Jenna and Kristen will bring it out after. Want to play Angry Birds on the machine over there?”
She shrugged a yes, and we went over and began pumping the machine with whatever quarters we had in our pockets. When that ran out, we sat on a bench in the theater lobby. She seemed to have calmed down.
“Do you still want to go home?” I asked. “I’ll go with you if you want.”
“No, you can’t miss your ice-cream date,” she teased.
Now it was me who shrugged. “Whatever,” I said. “It’s girls’ night.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I just don’t want to be sitting here like a loser when the movie gets out, is all. Maybe we could wait for them at the ice-cream place.”
We were quiet for a minute.
“Sammy?” asked Hailey in a small voice.
I turned and looked at her. “What?”
Hailey looked down at her nails, what little she hadn’t already bitten off. “Um, before the bug thing, you were talking about stuff.” She sighed and looked up at the ceiling searchingly. “Like, about Anthony Wright?”
I shook my head. “I don’t remember. Trauma causes memory loss.”
She smiled wanly. “Like, about a running mate for him. You were describing what he needed. It . . . it sounded like . . .”
“You,” I said at the exact same moment she said, “Me.”
We laughed.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“About you running for vice president with Anthony?”
Hailey nodded.
“Would you want to?” I asked.
Hailey looked back at her nails again and nodded again. “Yeah,” she admitted, looking up at me.
“Huh!” I said, and smacked my knee with my palm. I was surprised, and I couldn’t hide it. I sat there and thought about it for a minute. I felt a little bittersweet about it because it would have been fun for me to run too, except for the newspaper part. But I could actually see Hailey doing it, the more I thought about it. She’s a hard worker who likes to win; she’s captain of the varsity soccer team again, and she knows how to lead and inspire people. She’d be a good cheerleader for him, too. And she did have lots of friends in parts of the school where Anthony really doesn’t. “I think it’s a great idea!” I said enthusiastically.
Hailey’s head snapped up. “Really?” She grinned.
“Really,” I said. “And then I get the best job in the world!”
We laughed, remembering Hailey’s comment from earlier.
“I’ll talk to him, then. He might not want me,” Hailey said.
“Yeah, he’ll probably need a Centipede Warrior, and you are just not that person,” I teased.
Hailey punched me hard in the arm.
“Ow!” I cried, rubbing my arm. “Come on. Let’s go back in. We can’t sit here for another hour and a half till those guys all come out.”
“I guess.” But Hailey’s eyes grew wide and frightened. “Do you think there are more centipedes in there?”
“No,” I said firmly. “And anyway, I’m here to protect you. I’ll be like the Secret Service.”
As soon as the credits rolled but before they turned on the lights, Hailey jumped up and whispered, “Come get me in the bathroom once everyone’s gone,” and she took off.
Great public confidence, I thought. Oh boy.
Outside the theater, Jenna, Kristen, and I waited for Michael and his gang. When they came out, they were all jostling around and joking. Action movies get boys so jazzed up, like they want to go out and save the planet too. It’s kind of how I feel after I see a movie with ballet in it—like I want to go pirouette across the mall.
Anyway, we made a plan to head to Scoops for ice cream, and I said I’d be right along. Michael tried to hang back and wait for me, but I whispered that I had to get Hailey, so he rejoined the group.
In the bathroom I spotted Hailey’s sneakers under a stall and called her out; then we headed over to Scoop.
“I’m mortified again,” said Hailey.
“Get over it,” I said sternly. “If you’re going to run for office, you’d better have some thick skin.”
“Really?” asked Hailey.
I nodded.
“Oh,” she said. “Okay.”
At Scoop, Hailey and I separated, and I sat in a conveniently empty seat next to Michael. We talked about the movie briefly, but as usual, we really wanted to talk about the paper, so we got right to it.
“I met with John Scott and Anthony Wright today, both,” I said, taking a bite of my coffee ice cream with hot fudge sauce.
“And?” said Michael.
“Wait, you’ve met them both, right?” I asked.
He nodded, his eyes twinkling. “What did you think?”
I chewed the fudge thoughtfully and then said, “Loved Wright, surprisingly, but he takes a little time to get to know. Scott is the obvious choice, but he’s more style over substance.”
“Lots of pie-in-the-sky ideas, right?” said Michael, nodding.
I nodded back in agreement. “Like, how’s he going to pull all that off?”
“I know. He was pretty flattering, though. He knew all about my win/loss record for pitching; he named a bunch of my articles for the paper . . .” Michael looked away shyly. “He even asked me to be his running mate.”
“Wait, what? Me too! He asked me to be his running mate too!”
Michael whipped his head back and stared at me in shock; then we both began to laugh hard.
“O-M-G, is that a campaign tactic?” I said, still laughing incredulously.
“Seriously? I can’t believe it. He told me I was the ideal choice because I’m athletic, I’m a good writer, so I could ‘craft out strategy,’ and stuff like that.” Michael was shaking his head in dismay.
I said, “He told me that because I’m a girl and I’m cute, I’d be a good match for him.”
Michael looked at me, and his face was kind of angry. “Are you serious? That is so out of line.” He was mad, and it took me aback a little.
“Well, I thought it was kind of flattering.” I laughed.
“Now I hate that guy,” said Michael.
“Whoa! Objectivity? Impartial press?”
“Not anymore,” said Michael.
“Wait, are you mad that he asked us both and flattered us both, or . . . is it something else?” I knew I was kind of fishing, but I had to!
“Both,” said Michael. “That guy has a lot of nerve.”
“Yeah, I think that’s the point. And Anthony doesn’t.”
Michael was thoughtful then. “I wouldn’t say that. I think Anthony actually has a ton of nerve. The way he stood up to that mugger . . . Did you read that article? And the time he—”
“Wait, mugger? Article? Where?”
Michael looked at me. “He didn’t tell you that story? I guess I found it when I Googled him, and then I asked him about it. He didn’t really want to talk about it, but he was a hero, pretty much. A guy tried to steal his mom’s purse in the park near their house, and Anthony knocked him down and pinned him while his mom called the cops. Pretty major stuff.”
“Wow! I had no idea! I tried Googling those guys, but there was so much to wade through.” I remembered wishing for the old profiles Mr. Trigg had talked about. “That’s pretty funny, because John Scott told me his ‘saving the toddler’ story immediately, but when I asked Anthony if he had a hero story I could wr
ite about, he said no. Pretty modest, right?”
Michael nodded. “He’s impressive, that guy.”
“Yeah, it’s like he’s the right one, but it’s such a popularity contest that it’ll be John Scott the professional politician who wins. Just like in real life,” I said mournfully.
“I don’t know. We have a chance to help him out. We could do a great profile in the paper on Anthony.”
“We’d have to do one on John, too, that’s as good.”
Michael was nodding. “We will. It’s just that the stories and plans will speak for themselves.”
I nodded. “Also, I’m getting my sister to spruce Anthony up a little. And I think Hailey should be his running mate.”
Michael laughed. “Impartial, huh? Sounds like you’re his campaign manager!”
“Well, it sounded like you were John Scott’s VP there for a minute!”
Michael shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to leave the paper for anything. I love spending—” He stopped short and gave me a surprised, kind of guilty look. “I mean, I love it.”
I smiled a small smile, hoping he’d been about to say what I wanted to hear. “How did you know the thing about the conflict of interest? I had to have Trigg tell me. It was so embarrassing that I didn’t know you couldn’t do both.”
“Um, Pasty? Hello? Common sense?”
“Oh, shut up!” I said, giving him a playful whack.
“Hey, what are you two lovebirds—I mean writing partners—up to over here?” said Hailey. She’d come around the table and joined us.
“Eek! It’s Hailey!” teased Michael.
Hailey’s face fell.
“Um, touchy subject. Not funny,” I said.
Michael looked at her in surprise. “I’m sorry. Were you upset about that? For real?”
Hailey shrugged. “It was mortifying!”
“It was funny! Everyone loved it!”
“Yeah, but that guy down in front, making fun of me? That was the worst. I’ll never live it down!” she wailed.
“But Greg wasn’t teasing you to be mean. I think he was doing it to get your attention.”
“Greg who?” said Hailey, perplexed.
