by Betsy Haynes
"Christie! Guess what Laura McCall and her friends have done! You won't believe it!" cried Beth. "They've put stickers that say Melissa McConnell for president on all the seventh-grade lockers!"
"Jana and Melanie joined them just as Katie was saying, "Yeah, and that includes our lockers, too. It was probably that witch Laura McCall's idea."
"What includes our lockers, too?" asked Jana. Beth retold her story with all the drama she could muster.
"What are we going to do?" asked Melanie.
"Not get overly excited, for one thing," said Jana, looking at Beth. "The first thing we've got to take care of is those stickers, and then we've got to have a meeting of The Fabulous Five and plan Christie's campaign strategy. We can meet at my apartment after school. Has anybody got any ideas about what to do about the stickers?"
"I do," said Christie. She might as well join in the planning if she was going to have to run, she thought. "Melanie, do you still have all those big happy-face stickers you got for your birthday?" asked Christie.
"Yes. They're in my locker."
"Why don't we write on them and stick them on over Melissa's stickers?"
"Great idea," said Jana. "If we hurry, we can get it done before homeroom."
"What will we write on them?" asked Katie.
"I know," said Melanie. "'Vote for Christie—She's Got the Connections.'"
Christie's stomach turned over. She had to get them off that kick before everyone in the whole school was calling her the principal's pet.
Christie met her friends at their usual table in the cafeteria. They had divided up the happy-face stickers and had each taken a section of hallway where the seventh-grade lockers stood. Then they had scurried around, slapping stickers on lockers, being sure to cover up Melissa McConnell's stickers, all the way to the lunchroom.
"We did it!" shouted Beth when all five of them had reached the table.
"The Fantastic Foursome are just simply going to die when they see our stickers," Jana said with a confident laugh.
Melanie giggled. "I put two on Shane Arrington's locker and I even put one on Garrett Boldt's locker, even though he's an eighth-grader and can't vote for Christie."
"What a waste!" said Katie, glaring at Melanie.
Christie listened to her friends' happy chatter, but she didn't feel like joining in. She only ate half of her tuna sandwich and stuffed the other half back into her lunch bag to put into the garbage. Her appetite was gone. Now that those stickers were on the lockers, there would be no way to back out of the election. She was definitely trapped this time, and what made it even worse, she had helped.
"Let's chip in our change and stop and get some more stickers on the way to Jana's apartment," Beth was saying as Christie tuned in again.
"Good idea," said Jana. "I've got markers and we can work at the kitchen table."
"Can I bring my new album?" asked Beth. "We can put it on the stereo in your room and turn it up so we can hear it in the kitchen."
"Sure," said Jana. "But what's Laura doing?"
Christie looked toward the table where The Fantastic Foursome were sitting. Laura McCall was half standing, with one knee on the bench, and she was talking excitedly to Melissa, Funny, and Tammy.
"She probably just found out about our stickers on top of theirs," said Katie, laughing. "Boy, I'll bet she's mad."
Laura glanced at The Fabulous Five and smirked. She was flicking her long, blond braid back and forth the way a cat flicked the end of its tail while it stalked its prey. Christie had a creepy feeling that what Laura had been talking to her friends about wasn't stickers.
CHAPTER 6
As Christie watched, Laura McCall turned to Funny, Melissa, and Tammy and nodded. Tammy picked up a large brown paper bag that had been sitting on the floor, and each of the girls dipped into it and pulled out ribbons in bright shades of pink and yellow and green. Then they started handing them out to all the seventh-graders in the cafeteria.
"What are they doing?" cried Beth as Laura worked her way toward their table.
"Whatever it is, I don't like it," said Jana. "She's putting one on Randy!" Laura was bending over Randy Kirwan and pinning a ribbon to his sweater, and he was smiling at her.
When Laura got to their table, she said with a sneer, "I'm sure you'll want these, too." She tossed several brightly colored ribbons into the middle of the table and with a flip of her long braid, went on to the next table.
Christie looked at the ribbons as if they were poison.
"What do they say?" asked Melanie.
"What do you expect them to say?" Christie answered, picking up one. "They're campaign ribbons." She read the card, decorated with a hand-colored rainbow, that was pinned to the top of the ribbon in her hand:
"'Vote for Melissa McConnell for Seventh-Grade Class President, If You Care Enough to Elect the Very Best.'"
"The very worst, you mean!" said Katie, ripping the card off the ribbon and stuffing both inside her empty chocolate milk carton.
"She pinned that ribbon on Randy just to make me mad," said Jana, her voice rising.
"Don't get on her case for being ahead of us," Christie answered, even though she was getting angry, too. She didn't like anyone's humiliating her and her friends, and that's just what The Fantastic Foursome were doing.
"It's time for us to get our act together. If I'm going to run, let's do it right. Everyone can be at Jana's after school, right?"
Her four friends nodded.
"I'll talk to Lisa Snow and Kim Baxter and see if they can come," offered Katie. "They signed the nominating petitions, and I know they'd like to help."
"I'll talk to Sara Sawyer in my gym class," said Melanie. "Jana, don't you have classes with Alexis Duvall and Mona Vaughn?"
"Right," said Jana. "Leave them to me."
"I'll talk to Jon and see if he can come after supper," Christie said. She hated to put him off again, but planning her campaign was getting serious.
Christie saw looks of determination on her friends' faces. Look out, Laura McCall and friends! she thought.
Jana's mother wouldn't be home from work for an hour or so, so The Fabulous Five and their friends had the apartment to themselves. Jana got sodas out of the refrigerator and went to get her markers. Beth and Melanie picked out records and turned the stereo up high while Christie and Katie organized the things they had bought on the way from school on the kitchen table. Jon had only grunted when Christie asked him if he could come over after dinner instead of right after school. She guessed he had meant yes.
"I get to work on the happy-face stickers," sang Beth.
"Me, too!" echoed Sara and Alexis.
"Why don't we all do it," said Jana. "Then we can work on the posters together, too."
"I see you did get orange poster board," said Christie.
"Sure. We'll cut them into circles and put faces on them so they'll look like oranges, and we'll write the slogans at the top and bottom."
"Wow!" exclaimed Mona. "What a terrific idea. But I still don't get what all the slogans mean. 'Cure all your troubles with Vitamin C'? and 'Vote for Christie, she's got the connections'? What's that all about, anyway?"
Christie felt emotion rising inside her like steam in a teakettle, and she opened her mouth to answer when Katie cut her off.
"Save your big speeches for later, Christie," said Katie.
Jana glanced nervously at Christie. "You see, Mona, we thought it would be great to have a class president who . . . well . . . sort of had an in with the teachers and with Mr. Bell."
"I get it," said Alexis. "Because Christie's mom is principal of Mark Twain and all the teachers know who she is, they would probably listen to her if she went to them and asked a big favor for our class. Pretty smart."
"You've got to help spread the word," said Melanie. "We can't exactly put all that on our posters, but once kids understand the idea, every time they see a poster they'll remember. Christie will have it made."
"Listen, you guys,
" said Christie. She couldn't stand being quiet any longer. She felt depressed and out of control. It was like being washed along by a huge wave. "I said I'd run for president, but I never said I'd ask for special favors if I got elected. If you want me to keep my promise and run, you'd better help me come up with a platform that I can live with."
Nobody said anything for a moment. Finally Melanie collected all the finished posters and called everybody to order. "Okay. We need to come up with a platform that Christie likes, and we need to do it now so that we can give it to Curtis tomorrow. I'll write," she said, pulling a pad of paper out of her backpack. "You talk."
"Melanie didn't like my ideas about women's lib," said Katie after everyone had stared at the floor and thought for a moment. "What about law and order? There's too much rowdiness and pushing in the halls."
"That's right," agreed Sara. "And Clarence Marshall is one of the worst."
"True," Jana joined in. "And what about a school mascot costume? We could try to get the school to buy an Indian outfit for the Wakeman Warriors, and someone could wear it to the pep rallies and in parades and do Indian dances at all the games."
"Great idea!" squealed Beth. "And I get to wear it first."
"Dummy," said Katie. "There would have to be competition to wear it. But it's a great idea."
"And what about more school dances?" chirped Melanie. "Just think, I'd have more chances to dance with Scott and Shane."
"And plays," added Beth. "We need more school plays and talent contests. Things like that."
"Wait a minute," cried Melanie. "I can't write that fast."
"I've got another idea," said Lisa. "From now on, let's all wear orange tops. People will notice, and we'll tell them it's for vitamin C, which is Christie's symbol, and ask them to vote for her."
"I thought I told you that I wouldn't run as someone who's going to cure everybody's troubles," Christie huffed.
"But you can't drop the symbol now," argued Alexis. "Everybody has seen it and knows it is you."
"That's true," piped up Mona. "But maybe we can just say that Christie is wholesome and sunny like vitamin C and that voting for her will make you feel good!"
"Terrific idea. We're on a roll now," shouted Katie.
Christie sat listening to her friends come up with ideas. They were so excited. And the new way of using vitamin C and oranges as her symbol was great. She knew that it ought to make her feel better, and she wished she could join in on all the planning, but she couldn't. They were talking about her, but it was almost as if she weren't even there.
CHAPTER 7
After dinner Christie moped around her room and tried to get ready for the next day at school. She placed the stickers for the lockers in her backpack along with her books and Melanie's notes for her interview with Curtis. She didn't feel like studying while she waited for Jon to come for the first tutoring session, so she opened a magazine and there, facing up at her like some kind of magic, was an advertisement for a Hawaiian vacation. Wouldn't it be great to go to an island in the South Pacific and do nothing?
The thought brought a smile to her face. What if she were stranded on a South Sea island with Jon Smith? Wouldn't that be great? They could lie in the sun and swim and do exactly what they wanted to. It made her feel dreamy. It would be nice if there was a Bumpers on the island so they could eat hamburgers instead of yucky fish. She giggled, but then her smile faded. Fat chance, she thought. Right now Jon doesn't even like me.
"Christie, there's someone here to see you," her father called.
She hadn't heard the door chimes, and she jumped up and quickly ran a brush through her hair. She grabbed her math book, drew in a deep breath, then walked into the living room. There, with her mother hovering around him and her father grinning at him, stood Jon Smith, books under his arm and looking totally miserable.
"We watch your mother on TV all the time," Mrs. Winchell was saying.
"Since your father is a sports director, I was wondering if he plays tennis?" asked her dad. "I'd like to talk to him about Christie's game sometime."
Christie cringed. "Hi," she said, forcing a big smile. This was definitely not the way to make friends with him. She guessed her chances of their ever dating had just dropped to minus ten.
"Hello," he answered. He looked as if he would rather be someplace else. Anyplace else. That South Sea island maybe, or even the North Pole. But certainly not with her.
She led him into the kitchen. "I guess we'd better study in here."
"It's up to you," he said coldly.
Christie shivered. This could turn out to be the worst evening of her life.
Opening her book, she asked, "What chapter are you on?"
"The class is on chapter five. I'm on chapter one," he muttered without opening his own book.
"Well, why don't we look at your assignments. Maybe I can tell where you need help."
He pulled out a rumpled sheaf of papers and shoved them across the table toward her. They were filled with scrawled numbers, a lot of which had been crossed out, and the margins were all marked up with doodles and scribbles. He certainly had not had his mind on math when he did them.
Biting her lower lip, Christie sorted the papers in what seemed to be the correct order. She didn't know what to say. She had always been taught that you should preface criticism by saying something good, but she couldn't see anything good about his homework. He hadn't even tried. Stalling for time, Christie faked interest in some problems on one page, but it was no use.
"I guess, maybe, we should start at the beginning," she said, drawing up her courage and trying to be businesslike.
"Whatever you say," he snapped.
Christie bristled. How dare he act as if she were the cause of his troubles? She was tired and had people all over her wanting her to do this and do that, and now he was acting as if she were helping him because she had nothing else to do.
"Hey, look! I didn't ask for this job," she said hotly. "I've got enough things to do without tutoring someone who doesn't want to be helped." That should do it, she thought. He not only won't ask me out, he'll be my enemy for life. He'll probably get up and walk right out of here.
"Well, you don't have to look as if you're enjoying it so much. How much money are my dad and mom paying you, anyway?"
Christie was stunned. "Paying me? I'm doing it because Mr. Bell asked me to."
He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Come on. Who are you trying to kid? You're just like everybody else. You're doing it because you want to be able to say you know Chip Smith and Marge Whitworth."
"Think whatever you want to," Christie huffed. "But you heard Mr. Bell call me to his office. Believe it or not, I didn't know anything about it before then."
He scowled at her again, and she could read his thoughts as surely as if he were writing them down on paper. He still doesn't believe me, and on top of that, he doesn't like me one bit. Well, so what! she thought as anger and embarrassment flushed her face. He's so conceited that I don't like him either.
"We'd better get to work," she said, struggling to keep her composure. "The first thing you need to understand about equations is that the sum of the items on both sides of the equal sign have to be the same."
For the next hour Christie kept her eyes lowered, looking only at the math book and not at Jon. She went through the examples in lesson one and explained the principles behind them, trying as hard as she could to keep her mind strictly on math and refusing to think about Jon's mistaken opinion of her or how she'd blown any chance of his ever liking her. A couple of times she asked if he understood what she was talking about, and he mumbled something that she took as yes.
Finally the hour was over and Jon left without so much as a thank-you. The instant he was gone she raced upstairs to her room, not turning on the light but going to the window instead. In the glow of the streetlight she watched Jon mount his bicycle and ride away down the quiet street. When he was out of sight, she sighed and turned away. She couldn't
remember when she had felt so mixed up. Part of her was angry. How dare he accuse her of taking money from his parents? Or them of bribing someone to help him, for that matter. But another part of her felt sad. Jon was mad at the world, and he seemed determined to take some of it out on her. She had hoped that they could at least be friends, but now she could see that it would never happen.
CHAPTER 8
"How did tutoring Jon go last night?" asked Jana as she caught up with Christie at the gate to the school ground.
Christie made a face. "It started out terrible and went downhill from there. He thought I had volunteered to tutor him just to meet his famous parents and get my kicks telling the world he's stupid. Which—by the way—he isn't. I told him Mr. Bell talked me into it. But did he believe me? Of course not!"
"It doesn't sound as if he asked you out."
"Are you kidding? He isn't even speaking to me. Grunting now and then when I asked him if he understands a problem, but speaking to me? Definitely not."
Jana looked at Christie sympathetically. "Gee. That's too bad. When do you tutor him again?"
"Tonight, after supper, but boy, do I dread it. I'm not sure I want to face him after last night."
"Listen, Christie. He's the one with the problem, not you. You don't have anything to be embarrassed about."
Christie smiled gratefully at Jana. She was right, of course, Christie told herself. She had daydreamed that he would be as much fun to be with as he was cute, but that dream had been blown away for good last night. But that wasn't going to make it any easier to tutor him again, just the same.
"Did you bring your stickers?" asked Jana as they hurried toward Melanie, Beth, and Katie, who were waiting for them at their spot by the fence.
"Got 'em right here," Christie said, patting her notebook.
"What took you guys so long?" asked Melanie. She and the others had their arms full of the big orange posters. Melanie had on an orange T-shirt; Beth, a pullover with orange stripes; Katie, orange ankle warmers; Jana, an orange shirt; and Christie had found an orange scarf to wear around her neck. They all wore stickers that said: VOTE FOR CHRISTIE WINCHELL—7TH-GRADE CLASS PRESIDENT.