Don't Vote for Me by Krista Van Dolzer Read Free Book Online

slid into my seat. “Good afternoon,” she said like we were sitting down to tea. “I was very pleased to hear that you’d signed up for the election.”
    I swallowed, hard. “You were?”
    â€œYes,” Ms. Clementi said. “Why, it’s not every day that a member of my staff campaigns for office.”
    â€œOh, well,” I said, blushing, “I kind of signed up on a whim. Well, actually, the MMM signed up on a whim for me. But she did use my pencil.”
    She returned her attention to her phone. It was embarrassing to think that Ms. Clementi, who’d probably known Alexander Graham Bell personally, had a phone when I didn’t. “How nice,” she said pleasantly. “It will be a shame when that Pritchard-Pratt girl kills you.”
    I felt the blood drain from my cheeks, but before I could defend myself, Veronica walked in. She looked back and forth between us, then sat down in Riley’s desk (which was directly behind mine). She must have overheard our conversation, but she managed not to show it.
    Ms. Clementi got out of her seat and retrieved two cumbersome white packets that someone had stapled in the wrong corner. “The rules and regulations,” she said brightly as she handed them to us, then perched her glasses on her nose and proceeded to read the first page out loud: “Campaigning may begin as early as tomorrow and may continue until the assembly on the morning of Friday, May twentieth. Voting will take place immediately thereafter, and the winner will be announced by the end of seventh period.”
    Veronica kicked the back of my seat. “May twentieth,” she whispered. “The day after the recital.”
    I couldn’t believe it. It was like my entire life had been leading up to those two days.
    â€œAs for campaigning,” Ms. Clementi said, “all candidates are allowed to spend fifty dollars on materials such as signs, T-shirts, and handouts.” She squinted at us over her glasses. “Keep in mind that these materials should not be inappropriate. And any handouts you distribute may not constitute a bribe. That means no candy, no gum, no merchandise of any kind. Perhaps you’ve heard of Michael Belcher, who tried to hand out barf bags in the lunchroom. It was disgraceful, just disgraceful.” She looked back down at her notes—and giggled. “Funny, but disgraceful.”
    I grinned despite myself. Michael and Radcliff had been friends. In fact, I was pretty sure the barf bags had been his idea.
    Ms. Clementi’s smile vanished. “No barf bags, you understand?”
    My smile vanished, too. “Of course not, Ms. Clementi.”
    â€œAll right, then. Now, where were we?” She scanned the first page of her packet, then flipped it over to the second. “Ah, yes, campaign materials. If any candidate cannot afford the spending limit, then arrangements may be made wherein the school will fund the difference.” She eyed Veronica and me again. “Will that apply to either of you?”
    I shook my head swiftly. I didn’t want to have to mention the FL of the C (which, as Mom was fond of saying, would pay for the lives of many Graingers and possibly the national debt). Veronica must have said no, too, since Ms. Clementi didn’t linger. I thought about sneaking a peek at her, then changed my mind at the last second.
    â€œWell, then, I think that covers it.” Ms. Clementi set her packet down and rubbed her eyes with baby fists, partially dislodging her glasses. “Now, do you have any questions?”
    I flipped through the first few pages, less out of interest than anxiety. It looked like someone had typed it in seven-and-a-half-point font. “Are we supposed to read all this tonight ? What if we break one of the rules?”
    â€œOh, well,” Ms. Clementi said, “we’d probably pry off all your toenails and make you eat them in a stew.”
    Veronica