Free Plastic Polly by Jenny Lundquist

River’s PlanMaster?
    Justin could’ve said something like, “Hey, I’m your rival, so you might want to shut it.” But did he do that? No. He just sat there acting like he cared. He was probably only listening so he could spy on me.
    â€œBefore we get to the coin toss,” Mr. Pritchard says, “I’d like to direct everyone’s attention to one of the rules.” He opens a copy of The PlanMaster’s PlanMaster and reads, “A school club or organization may only participate in one act in the talent competition. Similarly, a student may not participate in more than one act for each annual competition.” Mr. Pritchard stops reading and looks pointedly at Kristy. “This would include the cheerleading squad.”
    I look over at Justin, who is steadfastly staring at his shoes. He was spying on me!
    â€œThank you for sharing that,” Mr. Fish says, seeming a little puzzled. “That’s very helpful.”
    While Mr. Fish makes a couple more announcements, a white-faced Melinda, who seems to have forgotten she’s not speaking to me, whispers, “How did they know?”
    â€œI have no idea,” I whisper back. I glare at the American River team and try to look properly outraged.
    Melinda writes something in the margin of her magazine and pushes it over to me:
    I TOLD Kelsey not to have so many seventh graders on the committee. They can’t keep their mouths shut.
    Totally, I write back.
    Melinda glances at the seventh graders next to Mr. Fish, a look of disgust on her face, then turns back to me and rolls her eyes. I roll mine back. For the moment it looks like all’s forgiven between us. I feel bad throwing the seventh graders under the bus, but what can I do, tell Melinda that last night I was blabbing our strategy to American River’s PlanMaster? Forget being banishedfrom the Court. I might get banished from Winston Academy altogether.
    â€œAll right.” Mr. Pritchard pulls a penny from his pocket. “I’ll just toss the coin. We call heads.”
    â€œWait a minute,” Mr. Fish says. “That’s not a regulation coin toss.”
    â€œExcuse me?” Mr. Pritchard frowns.
    â€œI think we should observe certain rules, just as they do in football.”
    â€œFootball?” Mr. Pritchard says contemptuously.
    â€œYes,” Mr. Fish answers. His voice sounds pleasant, but his eyes harden as he adds, “It’s amazing to me how American River seems to win the coin toss year after year. What do you think are the odds of that?”
    Then Mr. Fish directs everyone to stand in a circle at the side of the room. Justin slides into place next to me and starts to whisper, “Polly, I really—” but I move over in between Melinda and Lindsey before he can finish.
    â€œAre you satisfied?” Mr. Pritchard says to Mr. Fish, who nods. “All right, then. Let’s get this over with. We call heads.”
    â€œHold it,” Mr. Fish says. “Show me the coin.”
    â€œWhy?” Mr. Pritchard asks.
    â€œBecause I want to make sure it isn’t a two-headed coin.”
    Mr. Pritchard sputters and turns red, but while he’s defending his integrity and talking about the importance of trust between rivals, I notice he slips his penny into his pocket. And maybe it’s just me, but does the coin he’s holding now look just a little bit shinier?
    While Mr. Fish examines the coin, I close my eyes, because I can see Justin is trying to get my attention. If Melinda or anyone else finds out I was hanging out with him last night, I am so dead.
    Once Mr. Fish is satisfied the penny is genuine, Mr. Pritchard calls heads again and tosses it into the air. A glint of copper catches the sunlight streaming in from the window. When the penny hits the floor, it bounces and rolls in between Kristy’s and Jenna’s shoes until it spins and lands under a desk.
    â€œNobody move,” Mr.