The room was empty. Sara and Lauren must have left through Mr. Ketterman’s classroom.
Weasel’s cheeks puffed out with air, then he let out a great sigh.
“Bree, Bree, Bree…”
“WEASEL! Quit it! Only my friends call me ‘Bree.’ Now, seriously, what do you want?”
Weasel’s face fell into a pout. He said, “But I am your friend.”
He looked so pitiful when he said it. I felt kind of bad. I’d known the kid since pre-K when he conked me on the head with his rubber sword because he thought he was a knight and I was his princess.
I sighed again. “Okay, you’re… sort of my friend. What do you want?”
Weasel smiled his slick smile and bowed like some olden-days dude in tights. Just go along with it, I told myself. He’s been like this since he was in diapers.
He said, “M’lady, first allow me to compliment your lovely blue hair. Very daring. Now, if you please, look inside the envelope.”
I’d gotten so irritated that I’d forgotten about the envelope. I ripped it open. My heartbeat gave me a karate kick in the chest as I read what was inside.
I took Audrey Murphy’s ten-dollar bill. Now Todd is in trouble. I put the money back when nobody could see me, but Mrs. Wellaver said it was Todds falt. Shood I tell?
Circle yes or no. —Brianna
“Where’d you get this?” I felt like somebody was letting the air of me.
Weasel’s shadowy face looked grim.
“Dear, sweet, Bree… um, I mean, Miss Justice. This came from a secret source I have inside the Jasmine Moon camp. M’lady, they mean you no good.”
A photocopy of the old, crinkly paper shook in my hand. A copy of the original, which only one person in the whole universe had—REBECCA.
Weasel spoke in a quiet, secretive voice. “May I presume, dear madam, that this is authentic?”
I took some deep breaths to calm myself. Of course it was “authentic.” Handwritten in my perfect penmanship on personal, hand-painted paper created in Mrs. Wellaver’s second-grade class was a very personal confession. One I’d made and written after feeling really guilty. Perhaps my second-biggest secret ever.
(We must never, EVER discuss my biggest, hugest secret of all time!)
Becks had kept that note for all these years. She kept it in a scrapbook. Her memory book. Actually, I’d asked her to keep it. See, Becks’s mom is always saying how we have to learn from our mistakes. So Becks kept something embarrassing about me.
And I kept something embarrassing about her.
So why did some spy for Weasel have my note?
He said, “M’lady, beware. My spy made this copy. After school today they plan to take the original to the printer’s shop down on Orchard and McIntosh.” Weasel told me that they were going to make REALLY GINORMOUS POSTERS of my confession and use them to destroy me and democracy!!!
Pure eee-vill!
How could Rebecca do this to me?
“Fear not, dear lady. If you will allow me to assist, I have a plan. But you mustn’t let on. Not yet. Meet me near the bike racks. I know just what to do!”
“Weasel, what do you want? I know you want something or you wouldn’t be trying to help me.”
Now my hands were on my hips. When Weasel smiled it made you rethink everything you ever thought about how nice a smile could be. His lips were thin and cracked and his dark hair was slicked away from his pale face. It was like making nice with a ghost.
“Oh, dear girl, it is not what I want from you but truly what you can have if you let me help you.”
“Like what?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Money and power! Not only can I help you win the election, but I can help you become the professional cupcake baker you’ve always dreamed of being.”
My mouth went dry.
Weasel rubbed his greasy palms together.
“Trust me,” he said. “I know just what to do!”
16
A Political Race!
It was like something out of a spy movie.
With me, Lauren, and Sara as the good-girl secret agents. And Jasmine Moon and that turncoat Becks as the evil villains!
At the bike racks a bunch of kids were hooting and hollering, being noisy and loud like usual. I told Sara and Lauren about the note. I also told them I thought Rebecca Rat Fink Harper had sold me out.
Sara’s arms were folded tight across her body, and her face did not look happy. “Okay, look, we get it. Rebecca did something that’s not cool.”
Lauren bit down on her lower lip and glanced at Sara, then said to me: “If she did this, it was so not cool.”
“But,” said Sara, “we’re not going to be friends with Weasel to help you get back at Becks. No way.”
“She’s one of our best friends. Yours, too,” Lauren said.
“She sold me out to that crinkly-haired vote-stealing Jasmine Moon. How could she do that?”
“Maybe there’s an explanation,” Sara said.
Right then, Weasel showed up.
“Um, my dear ladies, it is imperative that we…”
“Shut up, Weasel!” Sara and Lauren said together.
“You guys, he’s helping me. Helping us. You want me to win, right?”
Lauren’s eyes got even rounder. “Look, B., we’re with you a hundred and ten percent. But Weasel is… such a weasel!”
“He told that lie about us last year and everybody laughed at us for a long time. C’mon, Bree. Just because he’s never lied about you, doesn’t mean you should trust him!”
Weasel slicked back his greasy hair. He said, “Sorry, ladies. An honest mistake.”
He didn’t look sorry.
Sara said, “He went around telling people we tried to get married to our teddy bears and we used to practice kissing them. KISSING THEM! I was sooooooo embarrassed!”
“Sara…,” I started, but right then, Weasel tugged on my sleeve.
“That’s him!” He pointed to a chubby kid on a too-small bike wearing a helmet with orange and yellow flames on top. Jasmine walked up to the boy and handed him a large, yellowish envelope—the kind that teachers use sometimes in class. As soon as Weasel pointed at them, they all looked our way—Chubby Bike Boy, Jasmine Moon, Tabitha Handy, and REBECCA.
Weasel jammed on his helmet and took off on his bike, and I was right behind him. As soon as they saw us coming, Jasmine Moon shouted to Bike Boy, “Go! Go! Go!” Our eyes met and hers sparkled with pure eee-vill!
“He’s getting away!” shouted Weasel.
And the boy started pedaling hard down the block.
Weasel’s bony arms and legs reddened as he pedaled after the boy. When I rolled past where Becks was standing, I yelled, “How could you?”
But I didn’t stick around for an answer.
The sun was warm on my arms and legs and face. I could hear the sound of Weasel wheezing. Lauren’s and Sara’s bike tires churned through gravel coming from behind me.
At the corner of the fence surrounding the schoolyard, Chubby Bike Boy spun out to make a right turn. Dust and gravel flew into the air.
Weasel pumped harder. His bony knees poked against the fabric of his jeans.
“Catch him!” Lauren yelled, and the next thing I knew she was right beside me and we were racing toward Weasel as Weasel raced toward the boy as the boy raced toward the printer and the end of my political career!
We were approaching an intersection. I said, “We have to slow down! We can’t just race across the street without looking.”
“Be strong, m’lady!” Weasel yelled. “That miscreant with the harmful evidence most surely will not stop.” Why did he have to talk like that? Wasn’t it bad enough that he looked like a weasel? Did he have to act like one, too?
Chubby Bike Boy was going really fast now. The sidewalk sloped and slanted so that as soon as you crossed over the big crack in the pavement, it went downhill.
“Watch out!” I yelled.
Through the chain-
link fence I could see a blue convertible car rolling along, music blaring. Rolling right toward the intersection.
At the same time, Sara must have spotted it, too. She screamed, “STOP!”
But the kid didn’t stop. Neither did Weasel. It took only a few seconds for the boy to shoot into the street. At the same time, the squealing sound of car brakes and the scream of a car’s horn filled the air.
At the last second, Chubby Bike Boy jacked back on his brakes. He stopped so hard and fast that the bike shook. Weasel was right behind him and nearly crashed into him.
The man driving the car turned out to be a teenager. Probably from the high school around the corner. “Little Dudes, you okay?” He was out of the car and running over to Weasel and Chubby.
That’s when both Weasel and Chubby realized that the big yellowish-brown envelope had flown through the air and sailed to the far side of the street. They both jumped off their bikes, broke away from the teenager, and started scrambling toward the envelope. Weasel grabbed it and tucked it against his chest, but the boy was bigger and stronger and he ripped it out of Weasel’s hands.
“Ladies! Some help, please!” Weasel said.
Sara and Lauren both got off their bikes and started moving into the road.
Chubby Bike Boy had the envelope, but Weasel smacked it out of his hands and it once again went sailing. This time right in my direction. Hallelujah! Just as I bent to pick it up…
SWOOP!
Blurred yellow flashed before my eyes. The loud crunching gravel screamed in my ear as the wheels of a skateboard zoomed past. Its rider bent without stopping and snatched the envelope off the pavement. Toady Todd Hampton.
He grabbed it and took off. Now I could hear Jasmine Moon and her Moon Bots clucking behind me like evil chickens. And that made me soooooo mad!
Todd looked back at me and grinned. “They told me about your dirty trick. Now it’s my turn!” Then he bent his knees and his skateboard shot off down the hill toward McIntosh Lane. And I shot off after him on my bike.
I could hear my name being called in the background, but I couldn’t stop. I pedaled hard and fast. Todd might be a toad, but he knew how to handle a skateboard.
“Todd! Give that back!” I yelled. We were a block away from the printer. And we were approaching another intersection. At the corner of McIntosh and Summerville, a group of kids stood waiting to cross at the light. I had to get there before the light changed and the kids started out into the street.
When Todd reached the crosswalk, he snapped the skateboard up and looked back over his shoulder. I’d be right on him in a few seconds.
… Three… two… one… NOW!
I braked, reached out, and caught the back of his jacket. The light changed and people started moving. Big kids who were picking up their little brothers and sisters talked on cell phones or with other big kids. Sunlight turned silver hubcaps and bumpers into shiny bling bright enough to blind you.
Light reflected into my eyes, and Todd snatched his jacket out of my grasp. Then I heard the growl of skateboard wheels digging into the concrete as Todd the Toad used all his leg muscles to make the board go faster and faster. I crossed the street right on his tail, but he was off the board faster than I could get off my bike.
“Todd, wait!” I cried out.
He hit the door and it swung open and he turned to walk inside. But instead he turned completely around and held the big envelope against his chest.
He gave me an evil grin and said, “You’ll never be president now!”
Then he went inside and stood in line behind two people. I was about to go in and try to take the envelope. I was desperate.
But by then Sara, Lauren, and Weasel had caught up.
“We have to get inside. We have to stop him!” I said.
Jasmine Moon and posse rolled up next. She whispered:
“You’re a blue-haired freak! The word is going to be out on you. Everybody will know you confessed! You’ll never win!”
“How did you get that note?” I asked.
“Ladies, we must bid adieu,” Weasel said.
“But…,” I began.
Weasel was making another weaselly face. “Really, we do!”
Before I could say more, he began to roll away from the little print shop. Sara, Lauren, and I followed. My heart sank. Jasmine Moon had already bribed people with her pizza. Now she’d make that note into a big poster and make everybody think I’d meant to get Todd in trouble, which I didn’t.
It was just supposed to be a joke! Audrey had been bragging at school that day with her ten dollars and Todd had told her he’d steal it if she didn’t put it away. So when I sneaked it out of her bag, I thought it would be funny. But she found out it was gone while I was out of the classroom. When I came back Mrs. Wellaver was acting like she was on CSI: Miami. I thought she was going to take our fingerprints.
A few blocks down, Weasel came to a stop. We slid to a stop beside him. “What’s up?” Lauren asked. She looked suspicious.
Weasel wore a big, loopy grin that was annoying.
“What?” I said. “We lost. They won. I’ll never be president now!”
Weasel grinned his weasel grin and his thin lips vanished from his face. “Don’t be so sure, m’lady,” he said. Then he reached behind his back and pulled out a large yellowish-brown envelope. Just like the one Chubby Bike Boy had.
He handed it to me.
“What’s this?”
He just grinned, and Sara and Lauren twisted around to get a peek. I opened the envelope and pulled out…
The scrapbook page with the evidence.
“Weasel… uh, I mean, Raymond, how’d you do this?”
His grin got even bigger and his thin little teeth appeared behind his thin flat lips and he said, “During my unfortunate scuffle with that scoundrel, I managed to switch his envelope with mine. He never knew it!”
Sara and Lauren exchanged glances. Sara asked, “And you’re sure they don’t have copies?”
“My source assures me they do not. That was the point of today’s little… political race.”
“And who is your source?” Lauren asked.
Weasel made a shhh sound with his fingers over his lips. “My lips are sealed,” he said.
I held the big envelope over my chest and could feel my heart racing as though it were still pedaling up and down the hills.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go to my house for a snack and to discuss strategy. They tried pulling a dirty trick on us; maybe we should pay them back!”
17
Playing Dirty
(Tilden accused Hayes of stealing the nineteenth presidency; I don’t know if Hayes did, but I know how Tilden felt.)
With just four weeks left until the elections, I stood in the front hall once again rubbing my fingers along the edges of the plaque with Miss Delicious’s name on it.
Fifth Grade President Delissa Marshall. (Otherwise known as Miss Delicious!) Her plaque was among three others for her fifth-grade year.
A week had passed since the big chase scene down McIntosh. Since then, life wasn’t the same.
I was so mad at first. Then… I got even madder.
But the worst part was when Sara and Lauren came to me with Jasmine Moon and Becks.
Do you know Jasmine Moon had the nerve to say, “I’m really sorry. The whole thing with the note, it was just supposed to be a joke. I wasn’t really going to make copies or use it against you.”
Are you buying that?
She smiled her sweet, shiny smile. She batted her big bug eyes. No one else had heard her call me a “blue-haired freak” outside the printer. My face got hot and I said, “What about all that smack you were talking about how I was going to lose?”
They all looked at me. Jasmine Moon started blinking really fast as if she was about to cry. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood,” she said, and ran off.
RAN OFF! I am not the bad guy, people!!!
Then the next morning, Sara s
aid, “Maybe you should give them another chance.”
“Them? Jasmine Moon wasn’t my friend to begin with and she won’t be my friend now. Can’t you guys see she’s playing you?”
“What about Becks? She’s your friend. Won’t you forgive her?” Sara said. Then she and Lauren tried to get me to talk to Becks, which I totally didn’t understand, except both of them really hated Weasel and wanted me to stop letting Weasel work on my campaign.
But if it weren’t for Weasel there wouldn’t be a campaign!
Not to mention the whole “I-can-make-you-a-millionaire” thing.
Raymond Wetzel was the son of Lucille Wetzel, owner of Wetzel’s Bakery. He said, “My mom says if you want to come by sometimes and make some of your cupcakes to sell, she’ll let you display them in her shop to try out the market, at least through the election. She said you’d have to bake them in her big, professional kitchen, though.”
So you know a future millionaire such as myself could not pass up that deal.
At bedtime, I clutched Pig Pig to my pajamas and thought about all the different cupcake and frosting combinations that might possibly set me apart. I’d imagine the scent of fresh butter in a dish; the smell of pureed fruits, chopped nuts, batter with fresh eggs whipped smooth and free of lumps.
At school, the extra history homework and extra-credit assignments were adding up. Presidential candidates had more responsibility because part of the election would include the presidential trivia competition.
I avoided the cafeteria at lunchtime. Instead I met with Weasel in the media center to discuss campaign slogans or buttons or other strategies. I hadn’t hung out with him this much since day care. Somehow he didn’t seem sneaky when we were working together. Sara and Lauren refused to come. Why couldn’t they see how much he was helping me?
But even as I asked myself the question, something squirmed in my belly. Like a tiny voice wriggling up from my intestines, all the way up to my ear canal.
You know why, Bree.
I bit the corner of my lip. Of course I knew Weasel could be sneaky and do dirty tricks. I knew he had lied a lot in the past. I knew all of it, but…
President of the Whole Fifth Grade Page 6