be a new VP candidate in town.
Upstairs, I had three IMs from Michael. The first one was kind of jokey. It said:
Saw the photo online of you and the next prez. Cozy.
The next one said:
Itâs all over Cherry Valley. Are you two a thing?
The third one said:
Sam, call me please.
I gulped and sat back in my desk chair. Michael calls me Sam only when heâs serious or upset. This could be either. Or both. I drummed my fingers on my desk and tried to work up my courage to call Michael. Just then the phone rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I ran into the upstairs hall to answer it, but Allie had already picked up. It was Jeff Perry. By the time she was done shouting at him, I didnât even need to speak to him. I just gingerly hung up the receiver and stood there with a small smile on my face. Luckily, Jeff Perry has an ego the size of an RV, so Allieâs dressing-down wouldnât mortally wound him. Heâd just take it in stride and look for the next opportunity to create chaos with a photo. And thatâs why heâll make a great paparazzo one day.
I lifted the receiver again and sighed in relief when I heard the dial tone. With shaky fingers and a dry mouth, I dialed Michaelâs number (yes,people, I know it by heart) and prayed he wouldnât answer. But he did. On the first ring.
âHello?â he said.
âMichael?â I said.
âSam,â he said, sounding serious. âWhatâs up?â
âWell . . . a lot? I guess?â
He sighed heavily. âAre you . . . ? I mean . . . Do you . . . ?â
âI donât like Anthony Wright like that,â I blurted. âI am impressed by him, but itâs not romantic. Jeff snapped that photo right at the end of the interview as I was pitching the idea of Allie helping him with his image. You can ask Anthony if you donât believe me.â
There was a heavy silence at the other end of the phone.
âHello?â I said.
âYeah,â said Michael dejectedly.
âWhat, are you bummed that I donât like him?â I said, laughing nervously. âWhatâs up?â
âNo, I just . . .â
âNot impartial enough for you?â I joked.
âSomething like that,â said Michael with a humorless laugh.
There was an awkward silence. I was dying to tell him Iâd never like anyone else, but I was too scared and shy. Anyway, I wanted him to be the first to say it.
âLook . . .â âI . . .â We both spoke at the same time.
âSo . . . um, are we all set for lunch on Monday?â I asked.
âSure,â said Michael in relief. âYes. That sounds great.â
âOkay then,â I said. âLetâs work on merging our rough drafts tomorrow, then we can divide it up for the final draft. We might need to meet after school on Wednesday just to finalize.â
âSounds good. Later, Paste,â he said.
âLater, Mikey,â I said, and smiled at the phone after I hung it up.
I sat at my computer and worked on my rough drafts for the interviews for about an hour; then I went to see what was up at campaign headquarters. The three of them had rolled up their sleevesand were working on Anthonyâs speech, and Allie was showing him how to stand and how to move as he delivered it and made his important points. It was pretty impressive that she just knows this stuff intuitively. I forgot she was my sister for a second and just stood watching her in her element. She was also counseling him on opening with a joke. She said it would be best if it wasnât scripted, but rather spontaneous. Something he could work in from the dayâs news or something that happened. Anthony seemed scared and frustrated by this idea, since he didnât want to leave anything to chance.
âIâm not very funny . . . ,â he was saying.
âI