Vote for Cupcakes! (4 page)

It took PLC the entire afternoon and well into the night to bake and decorate the campaign and Winter Fest cupcakes. Kylie kept them on a tight schedule, and Delaney boosted their morale whenever they complained.

“My hand is getting tired from whipping these eggs,” Sadie groaned. “Can't we just make eight hundred cupcakes and call it a night?”

“Now watch me whip, whip. Now watch me bake, bake,” Delaney suddenly sang while she broke into a crazy dance, spinning like a top around the kitchen. She grabbed Sadie and gave her a twirl. The other girls joined in and somehow forgot how exhausted they were—and Kylie got it all on video.

“I'm so posting this on our website,” she said. “Crazy cupcake bakers in action.”

When all the cupcakes were finally finished and packed up, and the girls had all gone home, Delaney realized she didn't have a lot of time left to prepare for the debate. She raced upstairs to her bedroom and settled in at her desk, where she began outlining each of her important issues on an index card: what the problem was and how she intended to solve it.

She didn't realize what time it was until her mom poked her head in to check on her. “It's way past your bedtime, Laney,” she said. “You've been awfully busy in here. Everything okay?”

Delaney nodded. “I'm just trying to make sure I know what to say when Olivia challenges me,” she explained. She handed her mom a card. “Here, you pretend you're my political opponent and ask me where I stand on an issue.”

Her mom sat down on the bed and read the card out loud. “Shortage of spoons in the cafeteria.”

Delaney cleared her throat. “My fellow Weber Dayers, how many of you have had to eat your Jell-O with a fork? Or scoop your rice pudding with the edge of your knife? Why, I ask you? Why should we suffer with less-than-satisfactory silverware? Where are the spoons?
Where are the spoons
?
”

She smiled and bowed. “How was that?”

“Impressive,” her mom said.

“Okay, give me another.” She handed her mom a stack of cards. “Pick a really tough one.”

“Madame Candidate, where do you stand on the issue of no talking in the library?”

“Communication,” Delaney began. “It is the basis of our great nation. It is the link that joins all of us together. It ends wars and keeps our relations with other foreign powers thriving. And yet in the library, Mrs. Lederman shushes us every time we even speak above a whisper! That is unfair and un-American! We need to communicate! Freedom of speech is one of our commandments!”

“I think you mean amendments—as in the Constitution,” Mrs. Noonan said.

“That too!”

Her mom placed the cards on Delaney's nightstand and pulled the blanket up to tuck her in. “No more politics for tonight,” she said, planting a kiss on Delaney's forehead.

“But what if I don't win?” Delaney asked.

“Then you don't. It wouldn't be the end of the world,” her mom said.

“It would for me,” Delaney said. “I really want this bad.”

“Then try your very best. That's all you can do. And I'll be proud of you whether you're fifth-grade president or just an average citizen.”

Delaney sighed. She could just picture Olivia rubbing it in her face: “I'm better than you! I'm president…and you're not!”

She drifted off to sleep and had a bad dream. She was standing in front of the entire auditorium at the debate, dressed like a giant cupcake.

“Ha-ha!” Olivia snickered. “Zany Laney is so weird!” All her classmates—even Sophie—laughed and pointed at her.

Mr. G was there as well, looking furious. “Delaney! Haven't I taught you anything in history this year? You have to take things seriously!”

“But I did!” she cried in her dream. “I prepared and I studied and I really gave a lot of thought to what the most important issues are.”

Suddenly, a shower of tater tots poured down over her head. Herbie waved from the wings of the stage. His invention was a Tot-o-Matic!

“That's what you call an important issue?” Olivia cracked up. “OMG! You are so pathetic!”

“I'm not! I wanna be president! I wanna be president!” Delaney shouted.

She woke to her mom gently shaking her. “Honey, you were having a nightmare. It's okay.”

Delaney shook her head and wiped away her tears. “It's not okay,” she insisted. “I just have to win the debate tomorrow. I just have to!”

• • •

Delaney could barely concentrate in fifth-period history class. The debate was next period, and she was afraid her nightmare last night was about to become reality.

“So we learned that Caesar's tragic flaws were what?” Mr. G asked the class.

Sophie raised her hand. “He was stuck up,” she said. “And power hungry.”

“Yes,” their teacher replied. “He was ambitious and arrogant, and declared himself a dictator for life.”

Delaney gulped. What if her fellow Weber Day students thought
she
was a bossy dictator? What if they hated her campaign platform and wanted to overthrow her?

“What is the difference between a dictatorship and a democracy?” Mr. G asked. He noticed Delaney in the back of the class, staring into space. “Delaney.”

She snapped to attention. “What? Huh?”

“Tell me the difference between a dictatorship and a democracy.”

Delaney cleared her throat. “Well, in a democracy, the leader answers to the people. He or she has to be elected fair and square, and every vote counts.”

Mr. G smiled. “Excellent answer—and an excellent attitude for a presidential candidate.” Just then the sixth bell rang. “Speaking of which, it's time for the fifth-grade assembly and the debate, which I will be moderating.”

Delaney felt her stomach do a backflip. This was it. There was no turning back now.

“You got this,” Sophie said, trying to cheer her up. “And if you need me, I'll be right there, front row.”

“Thanks, Soph,” Delaney replied. But she knew it would be just her and Olivia going head-to-head in the debate. No one could help her.

When Delaney reached the auditorium, it was packed with students and teachers. There wasn't a single seat open.

“Why is everyone here?” she whispered to Sophie.

“Um, 'cause it's an assembly and everyone
has
to be here,” her friend replied. “Relax. You'll be great.”

“I second that,” said a voice behind her.

“And we third, fourth, and fifth it!”

It was Kylie, Lexi, Sadie, and Jenna, who had all come to support her!

“But what about the Winter Fest setup? Won't Principal Fontina be mad?” Delaney asked.

“She let us set up early so we could be here for you,” Kylie said.

“And Herbie drove us all over,” Sadie added. She pointed to their adviser, who was standing in the wings—just like he'd been in Delaney's dream.

“I'm so happy to see all of you,” she said, hugging them. But she was a little nervous about what Herbie had up his sleeve.

“You didn't let him build a Tot-o-Matic machine, did you?” she asked Kylie quietly.

“A Tot-o-What?” Kylie giggled. “No. I checked it out before we got here, and trust me, you're gonna love your presentation, Delaney. I promise.”

Delaney took a deep breath. “Okay, if you say so.” She took her place onstage behind the podium next to Olivia.

“Hey, good luck,” her opponent said. “I think you'd make a really great president.”

Delaney was shocked that Olivia was actually being so nice.

“You too,” she answered.

“And no matter who wins, we both really want great stuff for the fifth grade, right?”

Delaney nodded. “Right.”

Mr. G called the assembly to attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would kindly take your seats and settle down…” A hush fell over the auditorium, and Delaney could feel her palms sweating.

“Today, we have two very impressive candidates for fifth-grade president: Delaney Noonan and Olivia Dante.” The students cheered and both girls smiled nervously.

“The purpose of a debate is to hear where the candidates stand and learn their opinions on important subjects. Your job as voters is to listen carefully and form your own opinions. Who will do the best job for you and the school?”

He turned to Delaney. “The first question is about the annual fifth-grade fund-raiser. How would you raise money, and where would you suggest that money go?”

Olivia raised her hand first and spoke into the microphone at the podium. “I would do a walkathon. I would get all the fifth graders and their families on their feet—because exercise is so important to health and well-being. Then, I would use the money we raise to pay for new soccer team nets and uniforms. Our championship team deserves better. Thank you.”

The Weber Day soccer team stood up and cheered. “Liv leads the way to a better Weber Day!” they shouted.

Mr. G motioned for them to take their seats. “Delaney, you're up.”

Delaney looked down at her index cards, but nothing on them answered that question. She had prepared for everything from art supplies to silverware, but fund-raising? What could she say? What could she do? She had to improvise—just like she had when she forgot to buy the cream cheese for her campaign cupcakes. She looked out at Sophie and her cupcake club sitting in the first row. Sophie gave her a thumbs-up, and Kylie smiled and crossed her fingers.

Suddenly, the answer came to her. “I would do a bake sale, a huge bake sale,” Delaney improvised. “I would create a campaign: Bake the Way to a Better Weber Day. And I would ask that our grade vote on the top five things we need to improve at school and put the money toward them. We should decide as a grade and not let one person make that decision.”

The audience applauded enthusiastically—and Jenna whistled through her teeth. “Go, Laney! Go, Laney!” Kylie and Lexi chanted.

Mr. G held up his hand once again for silence. “Question two: The school librarian is planning to expand our book collection next year. What types of books do you think we need?”

Delaney's hand went up. There was no way Olivia was going to beat her to it this time!

“Yes, Delaney?” Mr. G said. “Your thoughts?”

Delaney froze. How was she supposed to know what books the school needed or wanted? All she could do was think of her own favorites. “I love science fiction, so I'd like to see a lot more books about aliens from outer space,” she said. “And biographies of famous pop stars like Selena Gomez. I've always wanted to read about how she got into show business. Oh! Also, we could use a bunch more plays by writers like Shakespeare. He's really good!”

Mr. G smiled. “Yes, indeed he is. Olivia, your turn.”

“I feel that we should focus on the classics, the greats of literature, and any books that would support our fifth-grade curriculum,” she replied thoughtfully. “For example, Mr. G, you have been teaching us about Julius Caesar. More reference material on ancient Rome would be very helpful.”

The audience applauded and Delaney frowned. Why hadn't
she
thought to say books about Caesar? Mr. G would have loved that!

“Those were both very good responses from our candidates,” he said. “Now I'd like to turn the podium over to each of you to summarize why you think your classmates should elect you fifth-grade president. Please make your presentations.”

Olivia went first. “Fifth graders, I know we like to complain a lot. We don't like this; we don't like that. Too much homework, not a long enough recess… It's really easy to say what's wrong, but it takes work and dedication to fix it. That's why I'm asking you to make me your fifth-grade president. I will work hard to find the solutions. I will take your complaints seriously, and I will bring them to the administration. I will always be willing to listen and also to be your voice. Please vote for Liv to lead the way to a better Weber Day! Thank you.”

The audience clapped, and Delaney waited for Olivia to say or do something more. Her presentation had been so simple. No cupcakes, no fanfare, just solid promises to be the best leader she could be.

Mr. G looked at Delaney. “Okay, you're up,” he said.

Delaney stared out at the audience staring back at her. “Hi,” she began. “I, um, well, I…” She had nothing written out because there had been no time. So instead, she spoke from the heart.

“I don't have a speech,” she said. A few kids laughed. “I'm just going to talk about why I want to be your president. At first, I was mad that there wasn't enough paint or costumes for the play. So I thought, let me be president and I'll make sure I get what I want. Then, I met Liv in the hall and she was like, ‘Hey, you don't even know the issues!' So, then I wanted to be president to prove her wrong.” She noticed a few students in the audience frowning or rolling their eyes.

“Wait!” she pleaded. “I know that was wrong. And I learned that being president means being responsible and taking into consideration the feelings and opinions of the people who matter the most—you guys.” She looked out at her PLC mates and smiled. “It's easy to let it go to your head, but I promise you this: I never will again. I don't wanna be a good president; I wanna be a
great
one. I want to be fair and I wanna be fun—'cause that's me.” Herbie suddenly appeared beside her, holding a silver tray of cupcakes, each lit with a sparkler. He handed her one.

Delaney beamed. “I want to thank Herbie, my cupcake club, Sophie, and Mr. G for all your help and encouragement. I couldn't have done this without you.” Then she addressed her classmates: “I want you to share your opinions and concerns with me, and I'll share my cupcakes with you!” She motioned to Kylie and company in the front row. “Guys, can you help me hand these out?”

Her friends appeared carrying cupcakes and assorted toppings. “It's really important to me that every student's voice be heard by the Weber Day administration. You're all unique and special—which is why I want you to decorate your cupcakes exactly how you like them: sprinkles, chips, even a cherry on top. Whatever you like, your opinion counts!”

As the crowd erupted into thunderous applause, Herbie hit a button on a remote in his pocket. Suddenly, a red, white, and blue confetti cannon exploded above the stage and showered the entire auditorium. The kids went wild, and this time Mr. G didn't try to hush them.

“Well, that was definitely fun,” Mr. G said, grabbing a cupcake. “And honest and heartfelt. Delaney, great job. I'm proud of you.”

Olivia helped herself to a treat as well and piled on some red, white, and blue sprinkles. “Awesome,” she said. “Both the cupcake and your speech.”

Delaney felt like she was floating on air, just like the confetti. Even if she didn't win, she had given it her all. The only thing left to do was wait till the votes came in.