Don't Vote for Me (13 page)

It only took a second for pandemonium to break out. Everyone burst to their feet—everyone except for Spencer. His face had flushed purple, and it looked like he was shouting, but the clapping was so loud that I couldn't tell what he was saying. That was probably a good thing.

I just stood there, dazed. Why was everyone freaking out? This hadn't been part of the plan. I guess it was possible that they'd misunderstood.

“Vote for Veronica!” I said again, and the audience pumped their fists. But before I could pump mine, Ms. Quintero grabbed my elbow and steered me back to my seat. I didn't realize that my bandage had snagged on a corner of the podium until three feet of gauze had unraveled behind me. While I scrambled to rewind it, the audience cheered.

Ms. Quintero held her hands up. “That's enough!” she said firmly, and everyone sat back down. “We'd like to thank Mr. Grainger and Ms. Pritchard-Pratt for their stirring remarks and dismiss for second period. The bell will ring in four minutes and twelve seconds, so I suggest you get to class.”

The audience hopped back up and calmly filed out of the room. Ms. Quintero picked up Riley's speech and carefully smoothed it back out. I couldn't see her face, but I doubted it would have told me anything. Rumor had it that Ms. Quintero was an underground poker player, but I put less stock in rumors these days.

“Your speech,” she said calmly as she handed it to me. “Or your old speech, anyway.”

I felt my cheeks redden. “Thanks,” I mumbled lamely, shoving the cards into my pocket.

“Well played,” Ms. Quintero said with a respectful tip of her head. “I can honestly say I didn't think you had it in you, but I guess you've changed my mind.”

Ms. Quintero's heels clicked away before I had a chance to ask her what she meant, so I asked Veronica instead: “What do you think she meant by that?”

Veronica just shook her head. “If you're fishing for a compliment, I'm not going to bite.”

I felt my pulse speed up. “But I told them to vote for you.”

“
Exactly
,” she replied. “You've built your whole campaign on clever jokes and cool one-liners, and as far as jokes go, that was one of the best.”

“But it wasn't a joke!” I wanted to tear my hair out. “Honestly, Veronica, I meant every word.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You know, I think I believe you.” With a sad smile, she added, “I guess it's too bad that they don't know you as well as I do.”

I spent the rest of second period trying to convince the other BGs that I'd meant what I'd said, but none of them believed me. They thought it was all a joke, and Veronica didn't set the record straight.

Third period was no better, and fourth period couldn't have gone worse. By the time lunch rolled around, I felt like a powder keg with a millimeter-long fuse, so when Spencer showed up with a huge smirk on his face, I almost lost it on the spot.

“This is all
your
fault,” I growled, resisting the urge to lunge for him.

“No,” Spencer said, grinning, “I'm pretty sure it's yours. That speech was brilliant, by the way.”

Esther nodded glumly. “Not that I want to agree with Spencer, but I think he might be right.”

“Then we've got to tell them,” I replied. “We've got to
make
them understand.”

Spencer shook his head. “No, you've already done that. Now we just have to sit back and let destiny run its course.”

I'd never been a fan of destiny, and now I realized why.

When the seventh-grade student council showed up during fifth period to pass around the ballots, I made a show of circling Veronica's name, but everyone assumed that I was still messing around. That I was going to erase it and circle DAVID GRAINGER instead. I never erased it, but no one seemed to care.

On my way out of class, Ms. Park discreetly pulled me aside. “It was awfully sporting of you to vote for Veronica,” she said.

I fought the urge to smack my forehead.

* * *

I won the election in the most lopsided victory that SV had ever seen. They announced the results before the bell rang. The other kids exploded, but I didn't join in. I was too busy wondering where Veronica was and how she'd reacted to the news.

The halls turned into a carnival as soon as the bell rang. I ducked into the bathroom to ride out the worst of it. By the time I dared to poke my head out, the partygoers had moved on. Blue silly string covered the walls, and homemade confetti littered the ground. I knew it was homemade because none of the pieces looked the same. Though I felt bad for the janitors (and for beating Veronica), I couldn't help but feel grateful for Esther, who must have stayed up all night cutting, banking on the fact that I would win.

I stopped at my locker, which was plastered with well wishes (including Spencer's proud “Take THAT!” and Esther's quick-thinking heads-up that they were headed to Renfro's), then headed down to the band room. A month ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about abandoning my trumpet, but now I couldn't imagine going anywhere without it.

When I got to the commons, it didn't surprise me to discover that Veronica's banner had been torn down and cleanly severed at the neck. I guess it was a good thing that they'd had the banner to decapitate. I shuddered to think what would have happened if I'd been the one who'd lost.

I was halfway down the hall when the nocturne reached my ears. What started as a jog quickly morphed into a sprint, and before I knew it, I was barreling into Mr. Ashton's room.

“I meant—it,” I half said, half gasped. “What I said in—my speech.”

She didn't look up from the keys. “You already said that,” she replied.

I drew a noisy breath. “
I
voted for you,” I told her before I thought better of it.

One corner of her mouth curled up, but she didn't stop playing. “Then at least I got one vote.”

I looked down at my toes. How had I gotten this so
wrong
?

“You know,” she finally said, “it really isn't that awful.”

“What isn't that awful?” I replied.

“The job,” she said, still playing. “In fact, I think you're going to do great.”

I collapsed into a nearby chair. “And I think I'm gonna do terrible.”

Veronica cocked an eyebrow. “Why would you think that?” she asked.

“Because I can't read people,” I said. “Take Hector, for example.”

She tilted her head to the side. “He
is
a bully,” she replied.

“Because he grew up on the streets!” I plopped my chin into my hands. “Why didn't I know where he came from?”

Instead of answering, she shrugged. “Why did I think you'd be a pushover?”

That caught me off guard. “Did you really think I'd go down easily?”

“Of course,” Veronica replied. “It wasn't like I wanted to lose.”

“Then why'd you challenge me?” I asked. “And why didn't you let Ms. Quintero kick me out?”

Veronica played the nocturne's final chord, then gently closed the piano lid. “I already told you,” she replied, hoisting her bag over her shoulder. “I was sick of winning by default.” She sent me a sideways glance. “And by the time that you and Esther came up with those awesome shirts, a part of me was rooting for you, too.”

I expected her to leave, but she just stood there waiting. She'd taken off her heels—I could see them poking out of her bag—so she was back to being tall, not completely gargantuan. It made her look less imposing (or maybe she just didn't scare me anymore).

“You know,” she finally said, “I should probably thank you.”

“For
what?”
I asked, snorting.

“For everything,” she said. “But mostly for last night.” She dug her toe into a crack. “I don't think I could have told them what we showed them with that piece.”

“What
you
showed them,” I replied. “I was just the background noise.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, which made me almost grin. “But I never would have done it if you hadn't forced me into it.”

I held up my bandaged hand. “I did break my fingers for you.”

“Actually,” she said, “I'm pretty sure that
I
did that.”

I made a show of shrugging. “Mr. Lietz said we make quite a team.”

“You know, he may be on to something.”

She grinned at me, and I grinned back. It was nice to know I had her in my corner—and I wanted to keep it that way.

“I want you to be my vice,” I blurted.

Her eyes widened momentarily, but then she saluted. “Whatever you say, Mr. President.” More seriously, she added, “Thanks.”

I felt my cheeks get hot. “Also, I've been thinking…about integrating student council.”

Veronica made a face. “So you
did
overhear,” she said.

I nodded ruefully. “I guess I'm kind of good at that.”

She looked down at her toes. “Well, it was only an idea, and everyone thought it was a dumb one, so I decided to take it off—”

“I didn't.”

“You didn't
what
?” she asked.

“Think it was stupid,” I replied.

Veronica lowered her gaze. “Oh.”

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but there are five student council seats, aren't there?”

Now it was her turn to nod.

“So what if we split them in half?”

“You can't split five seats in half,” she said.

“So what if I take three seats and you take the other two? I'd give you the extra seat, but Spencer would probably have a fit.”

Veronica smiled slyly. “They're your seats, Mr. President. That means you get to fill them with whoever you want.”

I wrinkled my nose. “But what if I don't
want
to decide? Should I pick Hector and Samantha, or Samantha and Brady, or Brady and Hector?”

Veronica waved that off. “I'm sure you'll figure it out.” She snaked her right arm through my left and practically hauled me out the door. “It's really not that difficult.”

“How can
that
be?” I replied as I struggled to keep up.

“Because it's middle school,” she said. “You come back and talk to me once they pick you to run the country.”

I pretended to clutch my chest. “President of the United States? I don't think I could handle that.”

“And I don't think you know what you could handle.”

That thought made me miss a step, which made Veronica laugh. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was only a matter of time.

But I sincerely hoped not.

First, thank you to Kate Testerman, who managed to sell three books for me in as many months after a year of discouragement. I'm glad you patted me on the head and told me to run along when I suggested that we quit.

Second, thank you to Steve Geck, who saw the potential in these band geeks and populars. I'm glad you think I'm funny. Also, thanks to everyone at Sourcebooks, especially Kate Prosswimmer, Elizabeth Boyer, and Alex Yeadon, and to John Aardema, Will Riley, and Chris Cocozza for the super fun cover.

My critique partners—Amy Sonnichsen, Ben Spendlove, Jenilyn Collings, Kelly Kennedy Bryson, Liesl Shurtliff, and Myrna Foster—are not just great writers but great people, and I can't thank them enough. This book probably would have ended up at the bottom of a cliff if it hadn't been for your encouragement, so I'm glad you talked me down.

Thank you to my parents, who now know far more about the publishing industry than they probably ever wanted to. I've always appreciated your unwavering support. Also, thanks to Heather and Adam Musser, my favorite sister and brother-in-law (on this side of the family), for humoring me when I asked them to teach me how to play a trumpet.

And of course, thank you to Chris, my sun, and to Isaac, Madeleine, and William, my bright, shining stars. I can't wait to watch you grow up and see what people you become.

Krista Van Dolzer is a stay-at-home mom by day and a children's author by bedtime. Though she's short like David, she plays the piano like Veronica. She also enjoys watching college football and researching her ancestors. Krista lives with her husband and three kids in Mesquite, Nevada.

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