Vote by Gary Paulsen Read Free Book Online Page B

digital alarm clock. And that Markie could count past six.
    7:28. My eyes flew open and I jumped out of bed, sending Markie tumbling to the floor with a soft whump. Lucky I had blown up an air mattress for him next to my bed; it broke his fall.
    Oh no. I’d overslept. How had that happened? I never oversleep. It’s unheard of. Timeliness is crucial to the success of any politician. Everything appeared to be conspiring against me. It was like the universe suddenly didn’t want me to be the political success I knew I could be. I didn’t get it.
    “The clock started to make a loud noise that scared me but I pushed the button very fast so it didn’t wake you up,” Markie told me. “You’re welcome.”
    “Why didn’t my mom and dad wake me up?Or even Daniel and Sarah if they saw I wasn’t up yet?” I was hopping around my room with my pajamas half on while I grabbed a shirt from the nearest pile of clothes on the floor and gave it a quick sniff. Clean enough. I pulled my Buket o’ Puke ’n Snot (best band ever) T-shirt over my head and slid into a pair of jeans.
    “They’re gone.”
    “Gone where?”
    “Dunno. Everyone drank lots of coffee standing up. Then your mom got a phone call and said a word that should get her mouth washed out with soap and wrote something on the fridge and ran out. Still in her bathrobe. Everyone else left.”
    Weird. Even for Mom. “How do you know?”
    “I hid in the front closet and watched like we did that one time. Your family’s not very friendly in the morning.” He thought for a minute, watching me try to find matching socks. “Are they zombies, Dutchdeefuddy?”
    No one looks at socks, I finally decided, pulling on a couple of semi-clean gym socks and shoving my feet in tennis shoes. “Maybe Sarah. But probably not the rest. Ask them yourself later. Everyoneleft? What am I supposed to do with you? It’s Wednesday. I have school. I have an election to win and a girl to get.” As I jogged to the kitchen, Markie trotting behind me, I speed-dialed Mom—my call went straight to her mailbox. I tried Dad—he didn’t pick up and neither did his voice mail.
    I had to be at school in less than thirty minutes.
Where were they?
They did
not
forget about Markie. Aha! Notes. I spotted notes on the fridge. I bet they were all grateful that I’d gotten the magnetized notepad and held the webinar about the importance of keeping in touch. They’d grumbled, but now our family communication skills were stellar. Reminder: work
that
into a campaign speech.
    I scanned the notes, hoping to read that Mom had just run out for milk before making Markie and me a special midcampaign breakfast of chocolate chip French toast with sliced bananas.
    H 2 O main broke @ store
.
    Mom
    Took Daniel to hockey tourney in St. Charles
.
    Dad
    Kev—you owe me for unloading the dishwasher last night. Your campaign doesn’t impress me enough to cover for you
.
    Sarah
    Wish me luck!
    Daniel the Puckmaster Spencer
    Am I the only one in this house who is trustworthy and steadfast? Apparently so.
    It didn’t escape my notice that Mom had just spent Monday and Tuesday with Markie and had probably celebrated something as relatively low-key and calming as unrestrained water coursing through her bookstore. Dad could have taken Markie to the tourney and let him run with the other rink rats. But Dad says his best days with small children are behind him.
    I studied Markie and eyed the phone; I have near-perfect attendance, so I could lie and have a sick day. But I couldn’t afford even the whiff of a scandal.
    I slipped two waffles in the toaster and threw together two lunches. If Markie was going to school with me, I had to make sure he waswell fed. The only thing worse than a four-year-old at middle school is a cranky four-year-old at middle school.
    I glanced up from slicing apples and saw him stuffing Sarah’s old Barbies and Daniel’s G.I. Joe figures in his panda backpack. Good thinking, Markie, prepare