Free Libby and the Class Election by Ahmet Zappa Page B

safety, Ms. Blackstone led them down a path to a low concrete building surrounded by a high wall. The air felt
different there to Libby—salty, heavy, and damp. It smelled different, too—she couldn’t quite put her finger on it—kind of pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. She
couldn’t decide.
    Ms. Blackstone took a deep breath and smiled. “Ah, I love the smell of the sea,” she said. “So briny and refreshing.” She turned to the class. “Okay, class,”
she said. “I need you to stay right here while I sort out our tickets.” She headed to the ticket booth while the students milled about on the walkway in front of the building.
    Now’s my chance to find Ava,
thought Libby. Students were standing in groups, chatting. Some young male Wishlings were horsing around, pushing each other and laughing loudly.
Libby scanned the crowd. Then she smiled as she spotted a short young female Wishling with a pin-straight brown bob that curved around her chin. Libby was smiling because the young female Wishling
was wearing an AVA FOR PRESIDENT T-shirt.
    “Hey,” said Libby, stepping up to her. “I’m Libby. You must be Ava.” She looked down at her Star Pendant, anticipating its golden glow.
    But there was nothing.

The young female Wishling laughed. “I’m not Ava. I’m her campaign manager, Waverly.” She reached into her pocket. “Nice
to meet you, Libby. How would you like a button?” Without waiting for an answer, she pressed a round flat object into Libby’s hand. Libby looked down. It said VOTE FOR
AVA on it.
    “Hi, Waverly,” Libby said. “And thanks for the button.” She had no idea what to do with it, so she shoved it into her skirt pocket, to Waverly’s obvious
disappointment. “So what’s a campaign manager?”
    Waverly smiled. “I help her write speeches, make posters, make sure she’s following the school’s election rules, and convince people to vote for her. I keep things running and
make sure she’s focused.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “And trust me, sometimes she needs it! Basically anything that needs to be done to help get her elected. It’s
a really important job.”
    “Interesting,” said Libby. She wondered who she would ask to be her campaign manager—if she ever ran for office, that is. Maybe Leona. She would be able to get lots of
attention; she loved being in the spotlight….Scratch that. Leona would probably want to run for Light Leader herself!
    “So where’s the candidate?” Libby asked Waverly.
    “She’s in the bathroom,” said Waverly. “She should be out in a minute.” She leaned forward again. “So can we count on your vote?”
    Libby laughed. “Shouldn’t I meet Ava first?” she asked.
    Waverly peered at Libby, a scowl on her face. “Trust me, when you meet her, you’ll see she is the perfect person for the job.”
    Mrs. Blackstone walked back to the group. “We’re all squared away,” she told them, brandishing a stack of tickets. “Now everyone walk single file through the turnstile.
We’ll have a couple of minutes to explore a bit before we head to the sea lion show.”
    Libby immediately perked up. Sea glions? She didn’t know glions could swim! She thought the big cats hated the water. This would be very interesting indeed.
    The students were eager to get inside and began pushing again. “One at a time!” Ms. Blackstone warned. “Everyone take your turn!” She waggled a finger at them. “If
there is any more pushing, I promise that this will be the very last field trip we take!”
    Libby approached the turnstile with trepidation. It looked like that metal bar was going to hurt when she banged into it. But it moved down and out of her way easily and the next bar popped up
behind her. She stood to the side to watch the other students go through. What a fun machine! She had never seen anything like it before.
    When the allure of the turnstile had worn off, Libby realized she was in a room with glass