Vote by Gary Paulsen Read Free Book Online

school. Double duh.
    Plus, I’m
in
school. I’ll take a page from the faculty and do what teachers do every day to make us look bad: I’ll make sure to ask questions
Ca$h
can’t answer. He can’t even spell; how’s he going to form thoughtful responses? That way, I won’t have to jettison Sarah and Daniel’s good-for-the-school, good-for-the-community, do-gooder stuff after all. I just have to ask questions Cash can’t possibly respond to intelligently. How terribly politician of me.
    Mom dragged me to a town hall meeting last year during the mayoral election and I couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Neither could Mom, and considering she works in a bookstore and reads like most people breathe, that’s really saying something.
Obfuscate
, she told me on the ride home,means “to confuse, stupefy, darken or obscure.” I’m all over that. Cash won’t know what hit him.
    The bell rang and I jumped up and joined the surging tide of middle school students heading toward homeroom.
    And, as luck would have it, found myself shoulder to shoulder—or rather, shoulder to upper rib cage, as Cash is Very Tall—with my opponent. Good timing is everything in life—and politics.
    “So, Cash, I didn’t get the chance to wish you luck in the race yesterday. Everything kind of happened really fast. A candidate is only as good as his opponent, right?”
    “That’s what Katie says.” He smiled and even I was kind of dazed by his grin.
    Until the words sank in. Katie. I’d forgotten about her influence. Cash was her pretty puppet. I wouldn’t get the chance to make him sound goofy, because she’d have fed him his lines ahead of time, given him talking points to circle back to. I know how Katie thinks.
    At that instant, Katie fell into step with us. She linked her arm through Cash’s and grimaced at me in her attempt at a smile. She’d probably put a tracking chip in his neck like the vet did to ourcat, Teddy, so we wouldn’t lose him. Katie’s going to want to keep tabs on her candidate.
    “Kevin.” Katie never really says “hi” or “how are you doing” or “did you catch the game last night?” She just says your name in a cold, clipped way that makes you want to change it even when she’s trying to be friendly and throws her version of a smile into the greeting. “I never got the chance to congratulate you yesterday.”
    “I was just saying that exact thing to Cash,” I said, fake-smiling back at her, because, for some reason, Katie and I had silently agreed we didn’t want him to know we didn’t get along. “But I was pretty sure I knew you wished nothing but the best for me.” The best failure.
    “What a great choice the voters of this school are facing—Kevin Spencer or Cash Devine.” If insincerity were toxic, Katie’s voice would have melted the paint on the walls.
    “I was just thinking how lucky the school is,” I said, nodding, picturing myself making my acceptance speech in front of an adoring and fortunate crowd.
    We had to stop walking at that point because three girls from my math class came up and askedCash if they could get a picture with him. Katie and I stepped out of the frame.
    “Okay, look”—the real Katie was back, slitted eyes and no-nonsense voice—“I’ve set up a debate on Friday during lunch for the two of you. We’re setting up a mike in the cafeteria and you two can debate while everyone eats tuna noodle casserole. The vote is during last period Friday and the ballots will be counted over the weekend—Mr. Crosby’s taking the ballot boxes home with him. The winner will be announced Monday morning.”
    I didn’t want to let her know I was impressed with her knowledge or mad at myself for not coming up with the debate idea first. I nodded. “That give you enough time to bring Cash up to speed with the topics you think are important and have him memorize what you want him to say?”
    “It’ll be tight—but no, wait! I don’t—I’m just