Cast Your Ballot! (8 page)

“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 write 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.

“Gregory Toms,” said Michael. “I thought you knew it was him.”

“Why would Gregory Toms want my attention?” asked Hailey. Greg is one of the best-looking guys in our grade and superpopular.

Michael knocked on Hailey's head. “Hello? Anyone home? He probably likes you!”

Hailey blushed and smiled a shy smile that she tried to hide. “So he teased me because he likes me?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I always call Sam Pasty?” said Michael with a mischievous grin.

We all laughed like it was a joke, but inside I prayed it was true.

“Look, Hails, everyone knows how awesome you are. You're funny, cute, superathletic Hailey . . . ,” I said.

“. . . who we all now know is afraid of creepy-crawly things at the movies!” Michael concluded.

“And who we want to run for school VP with Anthony Wright!” I added.

Hailey smiled, and we all got chatting about it. Pretty soon it was time for us to head out for our pickup by Hailey's dad. Jenna and Kristen went first and were waiting for us outside Scoops as we said good-bye to the boys.

“Eek!” annoying Jeff Perry called after us as we left.

“Can it, Perry!” I called back. “I'm Secret Service, and that's my client you're making fun of!” And then Hailey and I laughed and laughed as we headed out.