Libby and the Class Election (5 page)

Libby twirled a piece of her pink hair around her finger, a grimace on her face. She hated disappointing her parents. This wasn't going to be easy.

“That's not an attractive look, my dear,” said her mother. “Is something wrong?”

“I…uh…was talking to Aunt Kit about joining her on a volunteering vacation during break,” Libby explained. “We're thinking of traveling from city to city,
helping out at different orphanages and animal shelters. And I might even be able to get some credits for school.” Aunt Kit and Libby's mom were sisters, but they couldn't have
been more different. Libby adored her mother, but she had so much more in common with the young, altruistic Kit, who loved helping others even more than she enjoyed traveling—which was saying
a lot.

The matching looks of dismay on her parents' faces would have been funny if they hadn't been so disconcerting to Libby. It was painful for her to disappoint anyone, particularly her
generous and kind parents. But you'd think she had told them she wanted them to take her camping on the Isle of Misera, a barren, rocky, uninhabitable island off the coast of New Prism. Libby
sighed. The problem was that her parents just didn't get her.

Until Libby was ten years old, she had been unaware that she lived an exceptional life. She hadn't given a second thought to any of it—the huge sprawling mansion in the fanciest
neighborhood in Starland City, Starland's largest metropolis; the exclusive vacations; the closetful of expensive clothes and shoes and accessories; any toy she desired, plus many more she
hadn't even realized she had wanted until she received them. All that changed one day when she was off from school. The family's housekeeper was away, so little Libby's parents
took her to work with them. She was playing in the conference room with her newest toy, an exclusive child-sized doll that could have full conversations on any subject with its owner, when a little
girl walked in. She was the daughter of the building's janitor and she was totally fascinated with Libby's doll. When Libby asked the girl if she had one just like it at home, she was
shocked to hear that the girl didn't own a doll of any kind. Libby was dubious. Was that even possible? The girl explained that her parents didn't have money for unnecessary things.
Libby felt terrible. “Take it, it's yours,” she said to the girl. The look of pure joy on the girl's face staggered Libby. The feeling she got from giving was much better
than the happiness she got from receiving. She went home that night and took a good look around her. Meeting the girl had really opened her eyes to her privileged existence and the joy she could
bring others with her generosity.

Libby had started small, donating the toys she didn't play with to a children's hospital. Her parents were amused, calling her “our little philanthropist.” But when Libby
next gave away every other toy she owned, and then asked for donations to her favorite charity instead of gifts on her Bright Day, they began to object. They especially did not appreciate it when
she questioned their lavish lifestyle, which they felt they deserved, as they had earned it through their hard work.

Libby's mother spoke first. “That's our Libby, always thinking about others,” she said. Libby perked up. Maybe they were starting to see her point of view….

“And never about us!” her parents said together.

No such luck. Libby felt her spirits deflate like a punctured floating star globe.

“The choice is yours, my love,” said her father sadly. “But we were looking forward to spending some quality time relaxing together, like we always do on vacation.”

Libby was careful not to smile, as she could recall many family holidays when she was left to her own devices while her parents took their daily holo-conference calls. Her parents didn't
really know how to relax.

“Well, we've arrived,” announced Libby's dad in the fake cheerful voice Libby knew all too well. The car would drop them off at the building's entrance, then park
itself in their designated parking space.

“Bye, Mom and Dad, talk soon,” said Libby, rushing off the phone. She was glad to be out of the starlight, but she still felt a lump in her throat as her parents signed off, about to
begin another day of acquisitions and mergers. Or whatever it was they did all day.

She stood there for a moment. She was glad that Gemma understood that she needed a moment to collect her—

“Well,” said Gemma. “That didn't go over so well. What are you going to do? Me, I guess I would just go to—”

Libby whirled around to face her roommate, about to give her a piece of her mind.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

Eager to work on
their energy manipulation skills, both girls tried to open the door at the same time, using their powers of concentration. This
resulted in a standoff, since neither was particularly good at it yet. The door slid open an inch, then closed, then repeated the same motion several times. The visitor knocked again, louder.
“Let me in!” a voice called out impatiently.

Finally, Libby backed off and allowed Gemma to do the honors. Gemma concentrated with all her might, her face turning quite red with the effort. The door slid open haltingly, and their visitor
stepped inside.

It was Scarlet. “You guys might want to think about working on your energy manipulation a bit more,” she said. As a third-year student, she had more practice with it and was much
better than they were.

“Oh, hey, Scarlet,” Gemma said casually. But Libby could tell that her roommate was a little nervous. Libby couldn't blame her: Scarlet, with her intense punk-rock look and
matching attitude, was pretty intimidating. She could be standoffish, intense, and mysterious—so much so that Libby had gone out of her way to avoid her in the beginning of the school year.
But then, one day, feeling blue, she had curled up in the Luminous Library to read one of her favorite holo-books from childhood and looked up to discover that both she and Scarlet were deeply
engrossed in
The Starling's Surprise
. They'd had a good laugh about it, then bonded over the common bout of homesickness that had led to the book selection. (Scarlet had sworn
Libby to secrecy; she had a reputation to uphold!) Libby had realized that when you got to know her, Scarlet could also be kind and fun. But Gemma was not yet convinced. “Whatever you
say,” Gemma had said when Libby tried to explain it to her. “But until she's kind and nice to
me
, I just won't believe it.” The rest of the Star Darlings,
especially Leona, Scarlet's roommate, all seemed to feel the same way.

“Hey, I thought I'd stop by to see if you wanted to walk to the Celestial Café together,” Scarlet said. She looked around her. “I forgot how nice your room
is,” she said, nodding. “It kind of reminds me of a beautiful sunset.” Gemma smiled despite herself. Libby looked at the room as if through Scarlet's eyes. The girl was
right. The lighting—soft pink on Libby's side and cheerful orange on Gemma's—combined in the middle of the room to create a rosy glow that was warm and cozy. The two girls
definitely had different tastes, but their furnishings fit together nicely. Libby was a bit neater, her bed always made and her belongings stowed away. Gemma had a lot of stuff for her many
interests—musical instruments, holo-books on almost every subject you could think of, stuffed animals, crafting supplies, flora she had collected on nature hikes, a variety of sporting
equipment—and it was all crammed onto her floor-to-ceiling shelves.

The other Star Darlings' rooms were not quite so harmonious. Sage and Cassie, also first-year students, had a room that was a study in complete opposites—one side austere and the
other quite cluttered. The room that second-years Piper and Vega shared was neat as a pin, in soothing shades of blue and green, but the similarity ended there. Piper's side was soft and
dreamy, with soothing curved surfaces, lots of pillows, and stacks of dream journals, while Vega's felt angular, clean, and precise. Clover and Astra's room was a jarring combination of
sporty and sleek. And over in the Big Dipper Dorm, Tessa and Adora's jumbled room reflected their dueling interests in science experiments and cooking. You never wanted to pick up a glass
that wasn't handed specifically to you: it could be a tasty smoothie, but there was an equal chance that it could be a putrid-tasting potion nobody in her right mind would want to ingest.

And then there were Scarlet and Leona. Their room was as discordant as their relationship. Leona was as bright, flashy, and in your face as her side of the room, with its warm golden glow, stage
for impromptu shows, and desk shaped like a vanity surrounded by bright lightbulbs. Scarlet's space was designed so she could skateboard down its walls. It was certainly an interesting room.
But Libby didn't feel truly comfortable there. Too much tension between the two roommates, maybe.

“Hey!” said Scarlet, spotting the bouquet. “You got those flowers, too! And so did Tessa and Adora, down the hall from me. They must be from Lady Stella, don't you
think?” She took a deep sniff. “Aren't they amazing? They smell just like punkypows.”

Libby and Gemma stared at each other. Now that was very odd!

Scarlet sat down on Libby's pristine pink bedding. “So when I came out of the sparkle shower this morning, what do you think I found?”

“A hungry glion, eating your flowers,” offered Gemma. Libby knew her roommate was trying to be funny, but nobody laughed.

Scarlet gave Gemma her patented disdainful look, and Gemma, embarrassed, immediately busied herself with her Star-Zap.

“Nooo…” Scarlet drew the word out scornfully. “I found my roommate wearing my grandfather's top hat, that's what,” she said. “Again! And again I
told her to keep her hands off it. I remind her all the time that it's special, not to be worn, ever, and as usual, she just ignores me.” She scowled. Before Scarlet's grandfather
had completed his Cycle of Life, he had been the greatest and most famous magician Starland had ever known. He had been known as Preston the Prestidigitator, and Starlings had come from near and
far to watch him perform. Preston had left his granddaughter his top hat, which Scarlet kept in a glass case, as if it was in a museum. Rumor had it that the end of his life cycle had been staged
and that as part of an elaborate trick, he would reappear on his next Bright Day. But Libby was too intimidated to ask Scarlet if it was true.

Scarlet shook her head. “You guys are so lucky, you get along so perfectly. What's your secret?”

Libby bristled and heard herself say, “We take turns deciding who gets to take the first sparkle shower in the morning.”

Gemma narrowed her eyes at Libby. “We always listen to each other,” she said.

Scarlet didn't notice the tension between the two girls. “Well, that's great,” she said. “In any event, I'm hungry. Time for breakfast?”

The Star Darlings tended to sit together in the Celestial Café, at a table by the window overlooking the majestic Crystal Mountains. Libby always tried to grab a seat
facing the view. Although Libby was friendly with many of the regular students, she had discovered that it was just easier to spend most of her time with her fellow Star Darlings. You could never
let your guard down around the others, in case you accidentally let some top secret information slip. Libby plopped herself down on the seat next to Gemma's sister, Tessa. Scarlet sat on
Libby's other side, and Gemma sat across from her, next to Tessa's roommate, Adora.

Tessa turned to them with a grin. “I just ordered the zoomberry pancakes,” she said. “You should get them, too!”

“Whatever,” said Gemma dismissively. “You know they're never as good as the ones Dad makes on the farm.”

“I know,” Tessa told her sister sympathetically. “The zoomberries aren't as fresh. But try them—they're still pretty good.”

Adora, who sat across from Tessa, rolled her eyes. “Do you think I could sit through one meal without hearing about how much better everything is on the farm?”