فصل 39

CHAPTER 39

To-Shay

On the way to school, I wonder about taking the long way. Like through Mexico.

When I arrive, the first thing I see is Albert, who has a black eye.

Albert, Keisha says, when are you going to teach those boys a lesson?

It’s nothing, he says all serious, and then gets happy. Look! He holds up a big sign for me.

ALLY IS YOUR ALLY. GIVE HER YOUR VOTE!

You made me a poster for the election? I ask, smiling. I know I’m going to lose, but this makes it okay. Thank you, Albert.

He looks proud.

But, um . . . Why does it say my name twice?

Your name is a homonym.

I should know better than to question Albert.

You know, a word with the same spelling but different sounds and meanings. A-l-l-y spells your name, but it also spells ‘ally’ with a long ‘i’ sound at the end. An ally is someone who is on your side. Someone who sticks by you. Like allies in wars.

Shay comes by with Jessica. She looks at the poster. Then at the three of us. Good luck, six-legged freak. I guess Ally will get three votes, anyway.

After they leave, I look at the three of us and think about how there are three primary colors. Yellow, blue, and red. Those three colors create every other color ever.

Keisha goes over to talk to Suki while I take a deep breath and turn to Albert. I know I’m going to lose and Shay will never let me forget it. I look down at the desk and see Albert’s sign. But at least I’ll have a poster. I smile at him. Can I bring it home?

Yes, but you can’t give up, Albert says.

Okay. Well, maybe you’re right, Albert. But you shouldn’t give up, either.

I am not nominated for class president.

I point at his black eye. But you got beat up again, didn’t you?

He shifts his weight and looks away. It’s hardly the same, he says, and I feel sad that he doesn’t see that it isn’t too different.

Then Keisha returns. Are you ready for today?

No. I shake my head. Ready for public humiliation? How do I get into these things?

She leans over and whispers, You’ll do a good job. Albert and I are voting for you no matter what you say in your speech.

I half smile. What if I say you have to lick the lunch tables clean?

Well, I just won’t do it. That will be easy, Keisha says, pushing my shoulder.

Albert adds, It depends what we have for lunch that day.

We laugh. I’m happy that he doesn’t seem mad about my questioning him.

Mr. Daniels is wearing a George Washington tie. He gets up and calls Shay to present first. I notice she is dressed in red, white, and blue. I look down. I didn’t even think about wearing anything special.

Shay talks about how great she is and all that she’ll do. Kids applaud over her promises. Some of the things she says she’ll do I can’t imagine how she would pull off. Like extra recesses and longer snack times. When she promises new, bigger lockers for the hallways, I know she can’t do that. With every sentence, kids are happier and I feel smaller and smaller.

I get up there, holding my paper. The sound that comes out of my mouth doesn’t sound like a real word. I try again and get the same sound. Then four more times. The quiet laughs rise all around me, but Mr. Daniels holds his palm toward the class without taking his eyes off me, and the noise stops.

I feel hot. Then Etch A Sketch brain hits me and I go blank. Staring at a page.

That I wrote.

That I can’t read.

Shay looks smug and it makes it even harder.

Mr. Daniels bends over, resting his hands on his knees. He whispers, Look. You can do this. And you can hit it out of the park, too.

I shake my head a little.

I . . . believe in you, Ally. Now, forget what you wrote. Put the paper down and take a deep breath. Close your eyes if it makes you nervous to see everyone and just be honest. Be . . . you.

He slides the paper out of my hands and I stand there silent for too long. I do close my eyes, wishing it would block their view of me as well.

Mr. Daniels’s voice is gentle. Almost a whisper. I want to be president of the class because . . .

I think it will be fun . . . and I think I would like it, I say, eyes still closed.

Good . . . keep going, he says.

I promise to be honest . . . I promise to work hard . . . I promise to listen to everyone who has ideas—not just my friends—because I would be in charge of the whole class. Well, not in charge exactly . . . but I want everyone to have a chance to give their ideas. I’ll go to meetings and I would try to get extra things, like recesses, but I can’t promise that I can do something like that. I open my eyes and look at Mr. Daniels. Can I do that?

Actually, no. You don’t want me fired, do you?

I shake my head, feeling kind of dazed.

Do you have anything else to say?

I don’t think so?

Okay, then. He motions toward my seat and I sit down, stunned that it’s over.

Now for the vote! he says.

He begins to pass out little pieces of paper.

Wait! Shay says. All the other teachers have just had everyone raise their hands.

Well, I thought it should be more like a real election. A secret ballot. Everyone will write the name of their choice for class president on the paper and fold it up. I will walk around to collect them.

That’s not fair!

Well . . . He shrugs. If it’s good enough for the U.S. government, it’s good enough for us.

I smooth out the tiny piece of paper and try hard to be neat.

There’s a lump in my throat as I write down my own name, and I don’t even know why.

Maybe because I’m not writing it down on a sign-in sheet for detention or signing an apology for something.

I fold it one, two, three times and put it in the basket when Mr. Daniels comes by.

He says he’ll let us know later, but everyone begs him to count now. So, he does.

He opens the first one. Shay.

He opens another. Shay.

He opens a third. Shay.

But when he opens the next four, they are for me. And I’m surprised.

A couple more for Shay and then four more for me. Four more?

I can’t imagine who would vote for me. I thought everyone loved Shay, but as I look around the room, some kids are glancing at me. And some actually look happy—Oliver and Suki and a bunch of other kids.

Toward the end of counting, when it looks like I’ve actually won, Shay crosses her arms and falls back against her chair.

In the end, Mr. Daniels shakes hands with Shay and tells her she ran a good campaign. Then, he turns to me and says, Congratulations, Madam President Nickerson. And then he salutes me and laughs. The class claps. Keisha is up and dancing while Albert gives me a single nod.

Mr. Daniels! Max raises his hand. I think this calls for a party!

Why, Max? Because it’s Wednesday?

Any day is a good day for a party, Mr. D! he says, and Shay looks annoyed with him.

But her real dagger eyes are saved for me. At least she’s quiet for once.

And that’s all perfectly fine with me.