by Laura Wood
After about half an hour we take a breather to go and get a drink. My face is red and giving off enough heat to act as a pretty decent radiator. I lift my heavy hair away from the back of my neck, welcoming the touch of cool air. My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard and my voice is gravelly as I yell to Angelika over the noise that I’m going to go to the toilets.
I start pushing my way through the crowds, and then I spot Aaron for the first time. He is wearing jeans and a dark blue shirt and he’s standing in the middle of a big group of his friends. Matt Spader is there, wearing an almost identical outfit to Aaron, his gold hair shining under the disco lights. One of Aaron’s arms is slung casually around Katie’s shoulder. She looks gorgeous in a short, bright red dress, and I feel a little pang. Just then Aaron’s eyes meet mine. I feel an unstoppable grin appear on my face and I lift my hand in a little wave.
An answering grin appears on Aaron’s face, and he lifts the hand not currently around Katie’s shoulder to give me a little salute. It’s funny, but I know what he’s thinking as clearly as if he’d just whispered it in my ear. We did it! I nod and smile again, because, really, we have pulled it off in epic style, and then I turn and carry on my way.
The girls’ toilets are empty and I go over to the mirror. My reflection is pink and happy. My hair has grown dramatically in circumference thanks to the heat and I try to smooth it down with my fingers. I reach into the little sparkly bag that Mum lent me for Lil’s lip balm and I put some more on, feeling quite grown-up to be the sort of girl who touches up her make-up at parties.
The door swings open then, banging against the wall with a thud that makes me jump.
“Oh, hi, Katie!” I exclaim, sunnily. “You gave me a bit of a shock!”
Katie’s smile is bright and a bit tight, as if someone is pulling the corners up with invisible threads. “Hello, Effie,” she says. “Good job on the party.”
“Thanks,” I reply, “but it wasn’t all me,” I add, fairly. “Aaron did a lot too.”
“Yeah.” Katie nods, coming to stand next to me and looking at her own reflection. She smooths her already perfect, silky hair. “Aaron said it was a bit of a drag, all that work. It’s so boring for you that you both had to get roped into it.”
I feel myself deflate a bit at that. I actually quite enjoyed the organizing process in the end, I hadn’t realized Aaron found it such a chore. “Well, I guess Miss Sardana thought it was a good idea.” I shrug. “You know, to help us get on a bit better.”
“Mmm,” Katie murmurs, still checking her face in the mirror. “It’s a shame about that. I guess some people just can’t get on with each other, it’s nobody’s fault, really.”
“Oh, well, I…” I begin.
“I’ve told Aaron I think he’s being a bit mean to you, but you know what boys are like.” She sighs, and then her eyes meet mine in the mirror. “He was telling everyone it’s been a bit embarrassing working together when you obviously fancy him so much. I mean, not that I can blame you!” Katie gives a tinkly little laugh at this. “But yeah, I guess it made him a bit uncomfortable and that’s why he was saying all those things about you.”
“What … what things?” I hear my voice ask from somewhere far away.
“You know, about how he feels sorry for you, and how you and your friends are all a bit weird. And how it’s funny how seriously you’re taking this whole thing, like it really matters.” Katie shrugs. “I mean, I guess it’s not really fair that he doesn’t have to try very hard to win, but people really like him, you know, they don’t laugh at him. Not like…” She trails off here awkwardly, and lifts a hand to her mouth. “Oh, sorry,” she says, “that came out a bit wrong.”
I can feel my heart thundering in my chest. It’s thumping so hard I’m a bit surprised that it doesn’t bounce right out of my chest. “Oh, right,” I say, and my voice is little more than a whisper.
“See you later, then,” Katie sings, and she sashays back out the door.
I look in the mirror and the pink-cheeked, sparkly girl who was there before is gone. The face staring back at me now is pale and sad. I bite my lip, tasting the peachy lip balm, and give my reflection a stern order not to cry. Especially not over an idiot like Aaron Davis, a boy I don’t even like. I grit my teeth and straighten my shoulders, and then I sweep majestically through the door, headed back to the party full of dignity and fierce feminist energy and only sniffling a very tiny bit.
Almost immediately, I spot Aaron and Katie. She is whispering in his ear and she turns to look at me and he is laughing. She’s probably telling him about our conversation. I feel something burning and sad and hurt and angry rising up inside me. Then I hear someone calling my name. Dimly, I look around and realize that the voice is very loud and it’s coming through the speakers. The music has stopped and people are turning in my direction. It’s Miss Sardana’s voice, and she’s calling me and Aaron to the stage. I start making my way there, picking through the crowd just behind Aaron.
The party is finishing now and Miss Sardana is congratulating us on our hard work and people are applauding. Aaron is smiling like he hasn’t got a care in the world, but I don’t know what my face is doing… If how I feel is anything to go by, it’s probably looking like the face of someone who wants to give another someone a reeeeealllly good telling off. Miss Sardana hands the microphone to Aaron.
“Thanks, miss,” he says. “Hi, everyone!” The crowd goes wild. “Er, I guess I just wanted to say thanks for coming. Hope you have a good time!” He turns to me. “Effie, did you want to say something?” He holds out the microphone towards me. I know that I should take it and say something stirring, that I should show myself and the world that Aaron Davis feeling sorry for me or telling people that he thinks I’m weird doesn’t bother me one tiny little bit, but even as I try to tell myself that, I can feel something tightening in my chest, I can feel the tears prickling behind my eyes, and this time I think they’re going to fall whether I like it or not.
“Kostas?” Aaron says.
I turn and run off the stage.
PART THREE
The Election
CHAPTER Twenty-Nine
My friends follow after me outside and I tell them that I’m not feeling very well. I am already kicking myself because I could have used that opportunity to make a stirring speech that would have swung loads of votes for me. Instead, I let myself be distracted by a few mean words. In the end Angelika gets the truth out of me and my campaign team are indignant.
“That Aaron Davis is the WORST,” Jess says.
“Yeah, and he has absolutely no sense of style,” Kevin puts in.
“He needs to pay.” Ruby cracks her knuckles.
Zo tucks her arm through mine.
“Don’t worry, Effie,” Angelika says firmly. “None of us cares what he thinks about us. We’ll have the last laugh when you bring him down.”
I smile a watery smile, touched by their support but feeling like the pressure to beat Aaron just keeps growing. I think about all the weeks that we’ve been working hard, campaigning with my team, and I wonder if I’ve done enough. My stomach is home to an entire family of butterflies.
I spend most of the weekend feeling a bit sorry for myself. Me, Mum and Lil have a duvet day on Saturday and Dad is on hand to supply hot chocolate and sweets. I don’t tell them what had happened, but it is fairly obvious from my mood that things at the dance did not exactly go as planned.
“Why don’t you choose the film?” Lil asks, dunking a fizzy red lace into her hot chocolate and slurping it up like spaghetti.
“What’s the point of anything?” I groan, stuffing my head under a pillow and feeling rather than seeing a look pass between her and Mum.
“Look, Effie,” Mum’s voice croons, “Dad’s put little marshmallows in your hot chocolate, just like you like…” The chocolatey steam reaches my face as she waves it gently beside the pillow like some delicious smelling salts.
“We could watch Mulan,” Lil’s v
oice sings persuasively. “You know an inspirational montage always cheers you up.”
And it does actually cheer me up a bit, especially when the three of us jump to our feet, singing “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” with such ferocity and realism that Dad comes running in to see what is wrong after Lil enthusiastically karate kicks a footstool.
Sunday is the day before the big debate and I go over all my notes again and again. I have to make sure that I am going to be ready, that there is no question that could possibly trip me up. There’s no way I’m going to let Aaron get the better of me now. I work on my speech a lot, repeating it over and over again, until Mum, Dad and Lil are word perfect too.
“If you make me listen to that one more time…” Lil threatens across the dinner table, “I’ll have my vengeance upon you.”
“Oooh,” I laugh. “What kind of vengeance?”
“The kind you won’t see coming.” Lil calmly picks up her dinner knife, and I decide to take the hint.
Back in school on Monday and it’s the day of the big debate. It’s the last chance we will have to convince voters that we’re the right choice before the election tomorrow. It’s strange, but the actual voting part seems to have crept up on me. I suppose that because I’ve been so busy and my head’s been so full of the dance I haven’t had so much time to think about it. Well, that’s all over now and to be honest I’m finding it hard to think about anything else.
I am standing outside the school hall with my friends, getting ready to go in and face the music.
“Do you need a wee?” Jess asks, eyeing me uncertainly.
I suppose I am wiggling about rather a lot, but it feels like all my limbs have been taken over by jittery snakes. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that cup of coffee with the vanilla syrup and squirty cream, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
I try to picture how well the debate is going to go. I imagine climbing on to the stage, standing behind a golden podium. I see myself making a speech so powerful that my fellow students are overcome with emotion, openly weeping tears of joy and gratitude. I see Aaron, incapable of making any response, only saying, “I agree with Effie,” in a broken voice, a single tear trickling down his cheek. I smile modestly and wave as the crowd leap to their feet, chanting my name. Effie! Effie!
“Effie!” Angelika’s voice cracks my daydream open like a broken egg.
“Oh, sorry,” I mumble. “What were you saying?”
“I was saying that it’s time to go in.” Angelika’s eyes widen and she puffs out her cheeks before letting out a long breath. “Are you ready?”
I swallow hard, and my knees feel a bit trembly. “Born ready!” I boom, giving her a confident wink and a snappy click of my fingers.
Angelika looks mildly horrified. “Maybe don’t do that again?” she suggests.
“Yeah,” I agree. “I think you might be right.”
She squeezes my arm and we file into the hall behind the others. The hall looks a bit different from the last time I was in here, and I think with a twinge of sadness about the winter wonderland that Aaron and I created. While the others all take their seats I make my way up to the stage on increasingly shaky legs. Unfortunately, there are no podiums at all (golden or otherwise) just a couple of plastic chairs pulled to one side of the stage.
Aaron Davis is already sprawled in one of the chairs, his long legs sticking out in front of him, his trademark glossy hair shining under the lights.
“All right, Kostas,” he says in a way that I might once have thought was friendly, but which I now see for the pitying sham that it is. Thanks to Katie, my eyes have been well and truly opened, and in my mind I see the two of them at the party, laughing together at how delusional I’ve been.
I don’t even dignify him with an answer, sticking my nose up in the air and sweeping into the other seat, inching it as far away from him as possible.
Aaron looks a bit annoyed at being ignored. Good, I think fiercely, and before he can say anything else, Ms Shaarawi appears onstage, clapping her hands for silence.
“OK, everyone, thank you for coming in so quietly. It’s an exciting day today as we have the junior class student council debate ahead of tomorrow’s election. We haven’t held the debate for several years so I’m very pleased to welcome you all here today.” She turns to smile at me and Aaron. “This year we have two candidates running for junior class president, both excellent students, and I’m sure that whoever wins will do a wonderful job.” Then Ms Shaarawi gets down to business. “So,” she says. “We’re doing things a little differently this year and I think we’re in for a very interesting session. We’ll be having a few minutes of debate on a range of different questions, and then each candidate will have ten minutes to speak. If I could ask Effie and Aaron to please come and stand up here.” She stands aside and gestures to the front of the stage.
I take a deep breath and move into position. I’ve never noticed it before but this hall is humongous. It seems as if there are thousands and thousands of students stretching out in front of me in endless rows. And all of them are looking at me. Judging me. Waiting to hear what I have to say. I take a deep steadying breath. It doesn’t matter how confident you are, or how much you know that you want to be prime minister, I guess standing up in front of a big group of people is always going to be a little nerve-racking. I hope for the sake of my political career that you get used to it with practice.
A hush fills the room.
My heart is pounding. There’s no going back now.
“OK,” Ms Shaarawi says, in a very official-sounding voice. “Let’s begin with the first question.”
CHAPTER Thirty
“What do you think is the most important responsibility for the junior class president?” Ms Shaarawi asks. “Effie, would you like to go first?”
“Yes,” I squeak, “thank you, miss,” I finish, lowering my voice to a pitch that humans can hear. I pause for a second to gather my thoughts. “I think that a good president has a responsibility to his or her fellow students to try and make the school the best place it can possibly be for everyone. Whether that’s through improving facilities, or supporting more clubs and societies, or concentrating on student safety, or making sure that there is help for students who are being bullied… I think the most important thing is to keep coming up with new ideas, to have imagination and to be good at solving problems.”
“Thank you, Effie.” Ms Shaarawi smiles, and the room fills with polite applause. I look down at the front row, where my team have positioned themselves, and they all give me little thumbs-up signals. “Now, Aaron, over to you.”
Aaron smiles winningly and looks thoughtful. I realize I am holding my breath. “I think Effie’s point is interesting,” Aaron say finally, “but I think for me the most important responsibility is to make sure everything keeps running smoothly. I think it’s important to do new things, but you don’t want to overload yourself or stretch the student council too thin. I think our school is great, and even though I agree that we could make some changes for the better, I think that those should be decided by the students. I know, for example, that a lot of people want to see changes in the school dinner menu. That’s the sort of small, practical thing that the student council president can achieve.”
I can feel my mouth clunk open as a hearty round of applause sweeps through the room. “WOOO!” I hear one person yell. “PIZZZZAAAAAA!”
“But don’t you think there are more important issues than pizza?” I ask.
Aaron shrugs. “I think if pizza is important to my fellow students, then it is important to me.” Another, smaller round of whoops fills the air here.
“OK,” Ms Shaarawi interrupts here. “That’s very interesting; let’s move on to the next question.”
The questions continue and I think I’m doing a pretty good job of answering all of them. Unfortunately, so is Aaron. I might not agree with everything he says but, frustratingly, he’s actually making some good points and it’s clear th
at he’s really thought about this. I’m especially impressed with his suggestion of a feedback box, where students can leave anonymous questions or concerns for the student council – a couple of weeks ago I would never have imagined these words coming out of Aaron Davis’s mouth. I can feel my heart thumping as we argue over different issues, but it’s a good kind of heart thumping … like when you’re playing a game that makes you feel nervous and excited at the same time and you’re really concentrating on doing your best.
The whole time Aaron is making his speech I try really hard to focus but it’s my own speech that I hear running around and around on a loop in my head. What I do hear is the cheer that he gets at the end. It lasts a long time. When it’s my turn I get to my feet and move to the middle of the stage. There is a moment of silence, and it almost feels like I’m about to start twirling and singing in some big Broadway number. But now is not the time for daydreams, Effie!
I clear my throat. “My fellow students,” I begin, “I am here today because I care about you. I care about every person in this room, and I care about the school that we are sitting in.” I go on to outline several of my biggest plans – the green initiative to dramatically improve school recycling, the buddy system so that no one is left feeling alone or excluded from school life, the fundraising that I want to do for the library so that everyone has access to all the books that they want and to a librarian who can help them find the perfect book for them.
“Also, the student council is responsible for distributing the funds to clubs and societies,” I say. “In the past I don’t believe that this has been handled fairly. There are lots of clubs that don’t get funding and in most cases don’t even know that there is any money available. I would like to see the money divided more fairly so the art club can have a trip to a museum, and the creative writing club can have an author visit to the school. I want to make sure that the gamers and the gymnasts and the aspiring actors all get to have their own societies – fun, safe places for students to go and meet people who share their interests.” There’s a round of applause here, as if the room has perked up a bit.