Libby and the Class Election (15 page)

BOOK: Libby and the Class Election
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“This will all be over
by tomorrow afternoon,” said Ava as she and Libby climbed the stairs together on the way to class after they had
hung all the posters. “Thank goodness.”

Libby stopped on the landing. “You don't sound all that excited about it,” she said.

Ava shrugged.

“So what made you decide to run for president, anyway?” Libby asked.

“It happened by accident,” Ava said with a sigh. “No one was running, and the principal made an announcement at assembly one morning urging students to throw their hats into
the ring.”

Libby's eyes widened. Wishlings did some crazy things. What did tossing your hat have to do with an election?

“That's exactly what she said,” Ava continued. “And I was wearing a hat, so of course I tossed it up onto the stage as a joke, and then the next thing I knew, Sammy
Decker nominated me right then and there. And then no one else wanted to run and the principal kept saying that someone else had to run against me, they couldn't just give it to me, so I
talked Kristie into running, too. We figured that one of us would win and then the other person would help them out. It didn't matter who won to us. We thought it would be fun.”

Libby considered this. “That's interesting. But then things changed, obviously.”

“This girl named Holly volunteered to be Kristie's campaign manager. And then little by little things started getting competitive. Fancy posters. Free candy if you promised to vote
for her. And then Kristie got really busy after school all the time and couldn't spend time with me. Then Waverly volunteered to help me, and then, before I knew it, Kristie and I just
stopped talking. It was so weird.”

Libby nodded. “That
is
weird. So what happens tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow afternoon the whole school comes to the auditorium to hear our speeches,” Ava said. “Then everyone votes. They count up the ballots, and the one of us with the most
votes wins.”

And then
you
win,
Libby thought.
One more day and then you win.

“I still don't know why the lunch lady freaked out,” said Waverly as they headed out of the cafeteria that afternoon. “She just started yelling about
chicken fingers out of the blue. It was so bizarre.”

Libby shrugged tiredly. She had a pretty good idea about what had happened. She had discovered her special talent—the ability to turn one Wishling object into another. In line, as they
held their trays, she had overheard Ava softly saying, “I wish that they would serve chicken fingers today.” And before Libby knew it, she had transformed a tray of turkey sliders into
chicken fingers. (Whatever those were, she didn't want to know!) Libby couldn't help herself. She hadn't realized that it would completely freak the lunch lady out.
No more
little wishes!
Libby thought.
Concentrate on the big wish. You're almost done.
She stole a glance at the Countdown Clock. She was right on target for the election the next day.
She just needed to focus.

“Imagine mixing up sliders and chicken fingers,” said Waverly. “So strange.” The three girls had finished their lunches quickly and left the cafeteria early. They walked
down the hall, turned a corner, and headed toward their classroom. They all gasped at the same time. The hallway was lined with the posters they had taped up that morning. But now each picture had
a large curlicue mustache drawn on Ava's serious face! They looked so funny that Libby almost burst out laughing. But a glance at Ava's confused expression and Waverly's furious
one forced her to clap her mouth shut.

“I can't believe it!” said Ava. “Who would have done such a thing?”

“I can believe it,” said Waverly, crossing her arms tightly. “Politics is a dirty business. It's a stupid joke that has Kristie and Holly written all over it. Well, now
we have no choice. We have to retaliate.” She thought for a moment and nodded. “We have to break all of the balloons on their posters.”

“Waverly!” said Ava. “We can't do that!” She looked down at the floor, her expression sad. “I just can't believe that Kristie would do that to
me.” She shook her head. “I can't believe it's come to this.”

“Believe it,” said Waverly. “That's politics.”

Libby thought fast. “Listen,” she said. “You have to look at both sides. Sure, maybe Kristie did draw mustaches on all of Ava's posters. If so, that's not right.
But if she did and Ava retaliates, she's sinking to her level. She could get caught and be disqualified. Or people could get turned off by the bad behavior and they won't know who to
vote for. Or maybe they don't vote at all. Nobody wins.”

Waverly opened her mouth to speak, but Libby held up her hand.

“And just suppose Kristie
didn't
do it. It's completely possible that some random kid grabbed a pen and decided to be artistic.” She smiled. “The artist
didn't sign his or her work, so we'll never know.”

“Well, we can't leave them up,” wailed Waverly. “She'll be the laughingstock of the school!” She stomped over to one of the posters. “Fine,” she
spat out. “We'll just take them down.”

“Wait!” Libby cried. She thought for a moment, then smiled. “I have the perfect idea.”

She held out her hand. “Do either of you have one of those…” She searched her brain for the Wishling word. “One of those thick black writing utensils?”

The girls stared at her. “Do you mean a Magic Marker?” Ava asked, looking at her oddly.

Oh, that's what it's called!
“Yes, one of those,” said Libby.

Ava fished around in her bag and pulled out a black-capped pen. “Here you go,” she said.

Libby marched over to the first poster and fixed it. It was awkward—and enjoyable—to write on paper instead of in the air on a holo-notebook. When Ava saw what she had done, she
laughed and laughed. “It's perfect!” she chortled. “Just my style!”

Waverly shook her head. “I think it's silly,” she said. She walked up to the poster and looked again. “Yup, I hate it,” she said.

“Get over it,” said Libby saucily. “Everyone is going to love it. Trust me.”

Was she right? Libby watched, holding her breath, as the end-of-lunch bell rang and students started spilling out of the lunchroom. The first group stopped short in front of one
of the posters. After a moment they all began pointing and laughing.

“That's awesome!”

“So funny!”

“Hysterical!”

Libby and Ava had gone up and down the hallway drawing speech balloons next to Ava's mustachioed face. Then they had carefully lettered the words
I MUSTACHE YOU TO VOTE
FOR ME
! in the balloons.

Ava's eyes were shining. “Everyone's laughing. They think it's funny. It's exactly what I wanted in the first place!” she said. “Thank you,
Libby!”

“You're welcome,” said Libby.

Libby had one more trick
up her sleeve to make sure that Ava's wish came true. She wanted to surprise Ava and Waverly. Ava because she knew
she'd be delighted and Waverly because she would try to stop her. Luckily, she had a bit of wish energy left, and hopefully there was enough. “Meet me on the front steps tomorrow
morning for a cool surprise,” Libby told Ava. She didn't ask to sleep over that night, because she was planning to sleep on the school roof in her special Star Darlings tent. She could
work her Starling magic in the privacy of her own invisible tent. And she could also sleep in. A Star Darling, especially an overtired one, needed her rest.

The next morning Libby stored her energy tent back in her Star-Zap, packed up her surprise, and waited for Ava on the steps. She made sure her back was turned as Ava approached her.

“Hey, Libby,” said Ava, tapping her shoulder.

Libby turned around, and Ava shrieked with laughter. Libby twirled the end of her large fake mustache and waggled her eyebrows. “I mustache you to wear one of these!” she said. The
night before, she had used her special talent of transformation to change hundreds of twigs she had collected after school into stick-on mustaches. She was quite exhausted. Her Wish Pendant was
spent. She placed a mustache under Ava's nose. “Here,” she said, handing Ava a full shopping bag. “Mustaches for everyone!”

Ava grinned, though it was hard to see under the mustache. “This is the most awesome thing ever. Thank you!” She smiled ruefully. “Waverly is going to hate this, you
know.”

“Don't I know it,” said Libby.

Libby stood backstage, observing from a distance. She stole a glance at her Countdown Clock. It was only a matter of starmins now. Ava and Kristie would give their speeches, and
the students would fill out their ballots and drop them into ballot boxes on their way out of the auditorium. It didn't have to be a landslide. If Ava got just one vote more than Kristie, her
wish would come true. And Libby was sure that was going to happen.

Suddenly, Libby felt so exhausted she had to sit down, sinking onto a cardboard box that stood nearby. The top collapsed and she sat there uncomfortably, her feet dangling above the floor and
her bottom firmly wedged inside. Now that was awkward.

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