Lucky Cap (13 page)

18.

“You were right,” I said to Iris in homeroom. “Kai doesn't hate me.”

“Told you so,” she said.

I thought about telling her that it was Kai who stole my cap, that he'd thrown it in the garbage, but I decided not to. What good would it do to rat him out? It was between us, no one else. I wouldn't tell anyone. Case closed.

“I'm not going to pretend he doesn't exist anymore,” I said.

“Nice of you,” Iris said.

“We're friends again.”

“Swell.”

“By the way, my dad is quitting Kap for good reasons. Nadine says he isn't really quitting—he's resigning in protest. I think I'm going to support his decision.”

“Wow,” she said, though she didn't sound excited.

“I'll tell you something else. I don't think I resigned as president for good reasons. I think it was a mistake. I shouldn't have quit just because I was in trouble. I should have tried harder. Or tried at all. I wish I hadn't resigned. Oh, well…”

“It just so happens”—Iris said in a singsongy voice as she lifted her backpack and fished around inside it—“I never quite got around to submitting your letter of resignation.” She pulled a sheet of paper out of her bag. “Here it is! Shall I rip it to shreds, Mr. President?”

“Sweet!” I said, snatching it and tearing it in half, then in half again. It felt good. “You are awesome, Iris!”

Which might have been the first time I'd ever called a girl that. In fact, I'm sure it was.

“So, do you have some new ideas, Mr. President?” Iris asked, a pen and her eyebrows raised, like a reporter.

“Uh… no…,” I said, thinking, “but I do have a couple of new advisers who might.”

“Really, sir? Advisers? I would love to know their names.”

“You'll find out soon enough,” I said. Presidentially.

I gathered Kai, Iris, Analisa, and Kai's new friend, Giovanni, for lunch. At first, I gave Analisa props for risking her reputation by sitting with Kai and Gio, but then she had so much fun with them, I realized the props were unnecessary. I liked Gio, too. He was geeky, for sure, but funny, like a character on TV. Not a main character. A funny, smart one.

After lunch we moved to the Student Commons, which we all knew was a cool-kids-only zone, especially Analisa and me, who had been cool kids most of the year. But it was just too cold that day to go outside, so the cool kids were just going to have to deal.

We found a sofa, a chair, and a table, pulled them all together, and sat down. Then I stood up to speak.

“I need you guys to help me be a good president. I need ideas. Direction. The only ideas I've had so far were getting rid of the no-caps-worn-in-school rule—which I no longer care about—and putting an end to nominating class officers on the first day of school.

“I got nominated by a girl who didn't know my name,” I said. “And I accepted the nomination, even though I had no idea what being president meant. I only won because Kyla hung all those posters and because I made kids laugh during my speech. That's crazy. We have to do something to stop this from happening again. We can't let people get nominated and elected just because they're cute or funny or popular like me. They need to be smart and dedicated and know the school rules and stuff. Like Iris.”

They all agreed it was an issue worth fighting for. Iris said she'd second it if I made a motion at the next class officer meeting. I felt good for the first time since I'd become president, like I might actually do something worthwhile. So I tossed out another idea:

“How about we increase security in the locker rooms? Maybe surveillance cameras? Armed guards? A lot of people's valuable stuff gets swiped in those locker rooms, you know…”

That one didn't go over as well.

I knew I wasn't the big thinker in the group. Mostly, what I brought to the table was my office. Enzo Prezidenzo. I was comfortable with that.

I heard that a good leader needs to be a good listener and surround himself with wise counsel. I heard it from Iris, actually. I had wise counsel. Giovanni, for example, was some sort of genius. And Kai had always been an honor student. I had noticed a connection between weirdness and smartness for a long time, actually. Like Nadine was supersmart, too. And Iris. They couldn't get elected president because of their weirdnesses, but as my advisers, they could get their ideas into action.

“Together we could turn Stan on its ear,” Gio said, then gestured in the air like he was setting a newspaper headline. “‘Young reformers turn Stan upside down. They call themselves the Nats. ‘Stan' upside down.'”

“‘Nats' isn't exactly ‘Stan' upside down,” Analisa said. “More like backward.”

“Close enough,” Iris said. “I like it. It's like gnats. The bugs. You know, with a
g
? Always buzzing around, getting in your face? That's us.”

“All in favor of calling our think tank the Nats, say aye,” I said.

“Aye!” said everyone, including Analisa.

The Nats met for lunch every day after that, and plotted our strategies in the Commons. Nasty rumors flew around at first—the class president and the head cheerleader hanging out with losers and nerds—but we ignored them and nothing horrible happened to any of us. No one got terminally ill, or beaten up. I wasn't kicked off the team. Analisa wasn't kicked off the squad. Pretty soon the rumors died. Or at least stopped reaching us. Or mattering to us. Hard to say which.

I got back on the team, and since Chase didn't continue to play as well as he did in the first game, I got put back in the starting five. Chase didn't get mad this time. He and Misa were still going out, and he was happy.

I asked him once why he liked girls so much, and he said, “Dude, it's okay for a guy to like girls. Welcome to the twentieth century!”

“Isn't it the twenty-first century?” I asked.

He laughed. “So welcome to the twenty-first century!”

Then he asked if he and Misa could join the Nats. I said yes. Which really ticked off Lance, because, of course, he had no interest in hanging out with a bunch of “losers and nerds,” as he called us.

I tried my best to be nice to the guy, as I told Chase I might do. I didn't like doing it, but no one said being a good guy was easy.

By winter break, we had made some real headway on the Repeal the First-Day Nomination initiative. Our slogan was
KNOW BEFORE YOU NOMINATE!
The powers that be—the principal, the district head, even the school board president—came to our meetings to set us straight about what we could and (mostly) couldn't do, but we stuck to our guns.

Iris, especially, turned out to be one tough negotiator. She did her homework and would not be outargued. Cassie kept excellent notes. And I did my best to act presidential. I shook hands firmly. I spoke in a deep voice. And I always remembered to take off my cap.

Word got around about us facing off with the big boys (and girls) and the Nats started to become sort of, kind of, almost, well… cool. Kids still pointed at us in the Commons, but in a totally different way. Sometimes they came over and gave us high fives. Gio became genuinely popular once everyone found out how funny he was. He ended up having tons of friends. I bet Kai five bucks that Gio would win the presidency in seventh grade, even though, personally, I thought Iris would do a better job.

One hurdle at a time. Maybe one day far in the future a dorky, smart girl could reach higher than treasurer and be elected class president. For now, all the Nats were after was to stop stuck-up boneheads like me from getting elected.

The basketball team won the first three games I started. Not just because of me, of course. Coach really did a great job working with us, turning us into a real team. But I admit, I was playing well. Analisa and Cassie and Misa cheered for me. Kai and Gio and Iris were in the stands. Chase rooted for me from the bench. Nadine was proud of me, mostly because of the Nats and all. I felt confident, even without the cap.

Eventually, I saw the cap for what it was: a cap. It wasn't magic or lucky. It didn't have anything to do with all the good stuff that had happened to me at Stan, and losing it didn't have anything to do with all the bad stuff. I made all the bad stuff happen myself by acting like a nut after the cap disappeared. So I guess that means I made all the good stuff happen, too, doesn't it?

During winter break my mom hosted a Christmas party. We were all allowed to invite friends. I invited the Nats.

Dad invited Evan, even though he'd given notice at Kap. I was surprised he invited him. And I was surprised Evan accepted, considering how fast my had dad quit his job. I thought Evan would be sore. Shows what I know about adults. Practically nothing.

After Evan gave my mom a hug and my dad a knuckle bump, he came into the living room where I was sitting with the Nats. We were all lounging on the pink couch, by the twinkling Christmas tree. Ink was getting up in everyone's laps and faces, but they all seemed to like him okay. He was wearing jingle bell earrings and a red Santa sweater, courtesy of the Sisterhood.

“Enzo, my man!” Evan said, raising his fist for a bump. “How's it going, bro?”

Everyone stopped talking and looked up at this adult, all decked out in Kap gear, including Kap sunglasses. Inside. At night. In December.

Ink growled.

I stood up and answered Evan's bump. “Hi, Evan. I'm good. You?”

“I am excellent. These your buds? Hey, dudes!”

The Nats waved lazily. Except Analisa. She perked up. I think it was dawning on her Evan was my Kap connection, and she was still pretty into Kap.

“Who's your friend?” Iris asked me, squinting at Evan like he was sketchy.

“Guys, this is Evan Stevens. He works for Kap.”

“Evan Stevens?” Iris asked.

“I see you're wearing an awesome new Kap cap, bro!” Evan said to Kai.

Kai reached up and touched it.

“That's Kai,” I said.

“Hey, Kai,” Evan said.

“You gave Enzo his stuff, didn't you?” Analisa asked him. “You took him on that amazing trip last summer?”

“Guilty,” Evan said, holding up his hands like he was surrendering to the police. “I tell you what—
En
-zo knows how to
par
-tee!”

Dazed reaction from all. Even from me. Maybe people were right about middle school changing you. Five months earlier I thought Evan was the coolest guy on the planet. Not anymore. Now he seemed like a guy trying too hard to seem cool. And act our age.

Not knowing what else to do, I continued my introductions.

“That's Analisa, and that's Giovanni, and Iris, and Misa, and over there's Chase.”

“Giovanni… Iris… Misa… Chase… good to meet you,” Evan said, knuckle-bumping the air in their direction instead of bending down to reach them. “You all seem like Kap people to me.” He smiled hugely.

Again, uncomfortable silence.

“We're the Nats,” Giovanni piped up. “We're a political activism collective. We're not anarchists, though. We're reformists.”