I won’t lie, Lexie’s easy on the eyes, but pretty or not, she was giving me the perfect target. I couldn’t resist. She was on the other side of the room, squatting next to Danielle as they chatted about poster ideas. From behind, Lexie’s low-rise jeans left her looking like a plumber, if you know what I mean.
I’m sure Luke would’ve given me a very complicated formula to follow to operate the catapult, but I didn’t find that necessary. I placed my bullet on the launching pad and yanked that beauty back as far as it would go. I bent down in a crouch, hiding behind the desk and holding the trigger mechanism in my hand. I waited for Lexie to shift to the left just a tad, putting her in my crosshairs. I was waiting, holding my breath, when suddenly Mrs. Williams sprang into the classroom and yelled, pulling a Mr. T move on us. She thought she’d be funny and scare us, like he used to do. Well, she did just that! I jumped and whacked my knee on the underside of the desk. I lost hold of the catapult and sent not one, but two spitballs soaring across the room. That’s right, they didn’t stay plastered together like I had planned.
The first disgusting wad of paper flew like a missile locked on its target. It hit Lexie square on the lower back and slid down her crack and into her pants. Bull’s-eye! She let out a wild squeal and jumped to her feet, wiggling and shaking her hips and butt, doing a crazy dance, sort of like Principal Lee’s hot-coffee jig.
What about the second bullet? That spitball landed just under Mrs. Williams’s chin and slid down inside her fancy new shirt. Mrs. Williams’s eyebrows almost jumped off her face while her jaw just about touched the floor.
I hid behind the desk, but they didn’t need to see me to know who was behind that prank.
“Peter, I swear I’m gonna wring your neck!” Lexie shrieked.
“I need to wear a hazmat suit around you,” Mrs. Williams said, plucking the wad of gunk from inside her shirt.
Lexie’s dilemma was a bit trickier. She had to go to the bathroom to remove the bullet that had snuck its way into her pants. If I fired that sucker off another million times, never would I be able to repeat what had just happened. It was like the impossible had a way of occurring in T’s presence.
I stood up, and everyone stared at me, shaking their heads. “Just like old times,” I said, and smiled.
Even though Jeffrey and I were on opposing campaigns, we found a way to work near each other. He was busy making signs for Peter, and I was whipping up flyers for Lexie. It felt like a good opportunity for him to ask me out, but he didn’t. If he was anything like Charlie, I knew I could be waiting awhile.
“Check this out,” he said.
I glanced at his newest poster, which said VOTE FOR PETER, THE PROMISE MAN. We looked at each other and started cracking up.
“You know,” Mr. Terupt said, standing behind us and surveying our work, “promise is not the P-word that first came to my mind for Peter.”
“Us either,” Luke said, “but prankster, problem child, or pea brain are not terms that will get you elected.”
“How about pathetic?” Lexie said. “Or puke-face?” She was still steaming mad at Peter because of the spitball he had catapulted down her backside. But I knew she’d find a way to get even. Those two never stopped.
“Funny,” Peter said, “but promise is the right word. I’ve never broken a promise. I promised T we’d stick together, and look at this.” He spread his arms wide.
Jeffrey and I made eye contact, and he smiled, which made the butterflies in my tummy flutter. I knew it wouldn’t happen with everyone around, but I still found myself wishing he’d just ask me. Instead, I got to listen to him and Mr. Terupt talk about wrestling.
“You must be getting excited, Jeffrey. Wrestling season’s right around the corner.”
“I know,” Jeffrey said. “It’s hard to think about anything else.”
That hurt. No wonder he wasn’t asking me.
“I want to go undefeated,” Jeffrey said. “I’ve been running before school, like you used to.”
Mr. Terupt smiled. “Going undefeated is a lofty goal, but that’s how it should be. Without the risk of failure, there is no challenge.”
“Asher’s excited, too,” Jeffrey said. “You should see his wrestling stance and double-leg takedown.”
“Maybe I’ll come and watch one of your matches?” I said. They both looked at me in a startled sort of way. Mr. Terupt cracked a slight grin. “I mean, I’d like to see Asher.”
“Sure. Okay,” Jeffrey said, shrugging and nodding.
“Having Anna there won’t make you nervous, will it?” Mr. Terupt asked Jeffrey. I didn’t know if he was teasing him or being serious.
“No,” Jeffrey was quick to say, staring at the floor. Would it? I wondered. Maybe Jeffrey did like me, and he just couldn’t get himself to tell me.
I caught Mr. Terupt smiling at us again. As he got up to leave, he said to Jeffrey, “You better keep your buddy out of trouble so he can enjoy the season, too.” He nodded in the direction of Peter, who was working with Luke now that he’d had his fun with the catapult.
“Yeah, like at camp?” I heard Jeffrey mumble.
“What happened at camp?” I asked him after Mr. Terupt had left.
“Nothing.”
Now he was sounding like Danielle. If Charlie ever got his head out of his butt—excuse my language—then she and I were going to be half sisters, and yet she was trying to hide something from me. She could hide it from her mother and Grandma, but not me. She was all over the place. Happy one minute, exhausted or miserable the next. Whenever I asked her about it, she’d either get annoyed or blame it on her period. You get your period once a month, not every day.
“I see you’ve got your sketchbook with you,” Mr. Terupt said, sliding up next to me after he’d finished visiting with Anna and Jeffrey.
“Yes, pictures come to me in the same way words do for Jessica. I like to put my beginning works in here and play around with ideas before I decide to put my piece on official paper.”
“Do you mind if I take a peek?” he asked.
I shook my head. Normally I didn’t like to share my stuff, but Mr. Terupt was different.
“Looks like you were inspired to draw a storm front,” he said, thumbing through the pages. He glanced up at me.
“You know us farmers,” I said, and shrugged. “Always thinking about the weather.” He chuckled. “Actually, I was thinking I might make a poster for Lexie that says to vote for her because she’s”—here I made quotation marks with my fingers—“ ‘Taking Seventh Grade by Storm.’ ”
“Ooh, I like that,” Mr. Terupt said.
“That sounds awesome,” Peter agreed. He’d been eavesdropping. “Why can’t you make me posters like that?” he complained to Jeffrey.
“Keep whining, and I’ll make you one that says ‘Vote for Peter the Crybaby.’ ”
Peter walked away grumbling under his breath while Mr. Terupt and I tried not to laugh at the two of them.
“Your work looks great, Danielle,” Mr. Terupt whispered. “And Peter’s right. The storm idea is awesome.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Dear God,
I’m nervous. I didn’t tell Mr. Terupt, but that poster image came to me because I have this eerie feeling we’re in the calm before the storm. Like bad news is looming. Farmers can sense things, same as animals can. I just have a funny feeling. Keep an eye on us. Please.
Amen.
We’d been working for a few weeks on the campaigns. Luke’s idea to use Teach’s place as headquarters was so smart. We had a blast getting together and chillin’ with Teach. The girls and I kept hoping to see Ms. Newberry—I mean Mrs. Teach—but like, she hadn’t made it to one of our meetings yet. She was either feeling sick or had an appointment or some other thing. Bad timing, I guess. Still, we hoped to see her soon. Teach told us we would.
Running for president required all the same stuff from theater camp that I loved doing. In the end, I’d need to dress up, stand onstage, a
nd play the part. Fun, fun, fun. But, like, Anna and Danielle made these dazzling posters and flyers for me, and Jessica wrote the most amazing speech, and so, like, it turned into something more serious. The girls wanted me to get elected. They were working hard. I started thinking I actually had a chance. I’d never won anything before.
When we had only a few campaign meetings left at Teach’s place, Jessica decided we needed to put in extra time, which meant getting together on our own. Meeting once a week until Election Day wasn’t going to be enough. Jessica had the speech written, so now it was time to practice my delivery. This was something I wanted to do in private, and she agreed, so we made plans to do it at my house.
This was where all our theater camp lessons came in handy. Jessica planned it out so that during my speech there were times for me to turn to the left, to the right, to pause, to talk softly, and to raise my voice. Of course, I added my own flair with different hand movements and head tilts. We had the performance choreographed and rehearsed to perfection. I was ready to win an Academy Award along with the election. We were good, Jessica especially.
“The only thing left for us to do is design my outfit for the big day,” I said.
“Oh my goodness,” Jessica said, and sighed. “We’ll be here all night.”
“Will you relax? This is important stuff. What I wear plays a role in how I do my hair, which influences my earring selection, my nail polish color, and my shoes. This is real science, not that junk we do in school that Luke gets all giddy about. Besides, you know just looking good is going to get me half the votes.”
“You’re probably right about that,” Jessica agreed.
I went to my closet and pulled out my first option. We spent the next hour going through some of my wardrobe. I’d hold up a possibility, and Jessica would give me her opinion: “Too risky…Boring…Too conservative…Now, that’s hot.”
It was fun showing her my choices. Her reactions made me laugh. And like, there was no way I could’ve made any of these important decisions without her help. We were about halfway into my closet when she said, “I sure hope we get invitations to the retreat.”
I knew getting invited was like, a huge deal for Jessica. “Stop sweatin’ it, girl,” I said. “You will. You were made for this stuff.” I meant what I said.
“Thanks. You’re pretty good at it yourself, Lex.”
I swung around with another outfit in my hand.
“Let’s promise to tell each other if we get one,” she said.
“One what?”
“An invitation!” she yelled.
“I know. I was just playing with you. Keep your pants on.” I stuck out my pinky, taking us back to fifth grade. “Pinky swear,” I said.
We locked fingers and made a solemn promise to tell. Then I lifted the outfit I had in my hand and held it out in front of me. Jessica didn’t get a chance to say anything this time, though, because that was when my mom came crashing into the house. I heard her car keys and purse slam down on the counter. It was like, way out of the ordinary for Mom to come home early. I tossed my outfit on the bed and walked out into the kitchen to see what was up.
“Mom, what’re you doing home?”
“I’ve got a migraine coming on,” she said, tossing our mail on the table. I saw the envelope immediately.
“Hi, Jessica,” Mom said.
“Hi. Sorry you’re not feeling well.”
“Just a headache. You girls keep having fun. I’m gonna go lie down.”
I stepped between Jessica and the table, blocking her view of the envelope that rested on top of the pile. I didn’t want her to see it in case she didn’t have the same thing waiting at home, but, like, I didn’t see how that was even possible. Still, there was no way I was going to tell her I got one. She would need to tell me first. Sometimes you do less harm by breaking a promise than by keeping it.
We arrived at Mr. Terupt’s room for another Campaign Day—what was supposed to be our second-to-last one—but before we got busy, he told us the news. “Listen, gang, I won’t be here next week. I have an appointment after school. But I think your work is just about complete anyway.”
“What kind of appointment?” Peter asked. He didn’t think twice about prying into Mr. Terupt’s personal life.
“We have an appointment, is what he meant to say.”
We’d been waiting to hear that voice since our first visit. Mrs. Terupt stood in the doorway—glowing. She had one hand on her belly and a smile on her face. I’d been around these situations enough times on the farm that I knew. She wasn’t showing, but her mannerisms told me everything I needed to know.
Jessica, Anna, and Lexie all rushed over to her. I watched Mrs. Terupt wrap one arm around them while keeping her other hand on her belly—a mother’s instinct. When the girls let go and realized I wasn’t there with them they turned around and looked at me with puzzled expressions.
“Danielle, is everything all right?” Anna asked.
I looked at Mr. Terupt and then back at Mrs. Terupt. She knew I knew, and couldn’t hide her smile. “Can I tell them?” I asked, looking back and forth between the two of them again.
They nodded.
“Mrs. Terupt’s pregnant,” I said.
The girls gasped and spun around to face her again.
“Really?!” Lexie shrieked.
Mrs. Terupt nodded.
“Oh!” the three of them squealed. Then they hugged her again, gentler this time. Luke was speechless. I think he was actually trying to figure out how this could’ve happened. Peter and Jeffrey gave Mr. Terupt high fives, and I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Danielle, how did you know?” Jessica asked.
I shrugged. “Farmers have a way of feeling these things. It’s like an extra sense.”
“What’re you going to name the baby?” Anna asked them.
“Lexie!” Lexie yelled.
“Peter!” Peter shouted.
“Um, no,” Mr. Terupt said.
“Are you having a boy or a girl?” Jessica asked.
“We’re waiting to find out,” Mrs. Terupt said, walking over to Mr. Terupt’s desk and wrapping her arm around his waist. “Billy likes surprises.” It was funny to hear her call Mr. Terupt by his first name—and his nickname, at that.
“When are you due?” I asked.
“In June,” Mrs. Terupt said, “which gives us plenty of time to think about names.”
“We’ll have a baby-naming contest,” Lexie said.
“Or Sara and I will decide on our own,” Mr. Terupt said, calling his wife by her first name now.
“You’re going too fast,” Mrs. Terupt told us. “Billy needs to take his time with big decisions like these.”
“Don’t all men?” Anna said.
Mrs. Terupt couldn’t help but laugh.
“Back to the matter at hand,” Mr. Terupt said. “I won’t be here for next week’s Campaign Day because Sara and I have an appointment with our obstetrician.
“Your what?!” Peter said.
“The doctor who will be delivering their baby,” Jessica explained.
“Oh.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Terupt said, “which means you guys will need to get together at one of your houses to finalize things.”
“We should have a party!” Lexie exclaimed. “All campaigns end with parties. Plus, we have baby news to celebrate.”
“That’s a great idea,” Peter said.
“Of course it is, you moron. I’m full of great ideas, which is why I’m going to make a fabulous president.”
“Whatever,” Peter grumbled.
“Where’re we going to have a party?” Jeffrey asked.
“We can have it at my place,” Peter said. “My mom and dad are going to be away on a business trip, so it’ll be perfect.”
“My parents aren’t going to let me come over if your parents aren’t home, Peter,” Luke said.
“Ugh,” Lexie groaned. “They won’t find out if you don’t tell them.”
She’d said the same thing to me before stepping foot in that frightful store. I knew how Luke felt.
“Ahem.” Mr. Terupt cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows. I’m not sure he approved of Lexie’s advice.
“Oh, fine,” she said. “Just tell them everyone is going to be there. That’s the truth, and that always works with parents.”
I wasn’t sure that sounded much better.
“Our au pair, Miss Catalina, will be there,” Peter said. “You can tell them that. She’ll make us some fancy party food, and we can hang out in my brother’s room. He’s away at school, so he won’t even know. We can use his TV and video game console, his stereo, and he’s even got a foosball table.”
Peter and Lexie were scheming together, and that was scary.
“I’m in,” Lexie said.
“Me too,” Jessica agreed.
“Okay,” Jeffrey said.
Anna and I looked at each other and shrugged. I knew she was thinking what I was thinking. Going to Peter’s couldn’t be any worse than walking into Victoria’s Secret, and we’d left there unharmed. “We’ll be there,” Anna said, meaning the two of us. We came as a package deal these days.
That just left Luke. We all looked at him.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell my mom everyone’s going to be there.”
“Attaboy, Lukester!” Peter yipped. “I can’t party without my main campaign guy there. It’s not like Jeffrey did anything.”
“Maybe I’ll get started by rubbing your face across the mat at practice in a couple of weeks,” Jeffrey said.
“Okay then,” Mr. Terupt said, cutting those two off. “You guys better start working if you’re going to get anything done today. And before these two start going at it right here.”
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