How to Take the Ex Out of Ex-Boyfriend (23 page)

I couldn't let it happen. I mean, how could I just stand there and let Wilson take the election away from my brother?

I went to the side of the auditorium, picked up a stray chair, and walked over to Dante. After putting the chair beside him, I sat down.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “You can't be here.”

“If you resign, I'm going to make a speech and tell everyone that Wilson blackmailed you, and they should vote for you anyway.”

His jaw clenched and he shook his head. “No, Giovanna. Go sit with your friends.”

I didn't move. I folded my arms and looked out into the crowd. A thousand people sat in the stands. Just seeing them all en masse made every part of me shrink, but I still didn't move.

Dante leaned toward me. “I know you're bluffing. When we moved here, you wouldn't even introduce yourself to anyone for a month. There is no way you're getting up in front of the entire school to say anything. Now please leave.”

I could see Jesse sitting toward the front of the bleachers. He stared at me with questioning eyes. I pulled my gaze away from him and turned back to Dante. “If you don't want me to make a speech, then don't resign in yours. Otherwise, I'll walk to the podium right after you.”

“You're bluffing,” he said again, but he looked at my eyes more closely. After a moment he let out a sigh and a few swearwords.

Chalk one up for the twin mind-meld. I wasn't bluffing. Trembling, yes, scared to death, yes, but I wasn't bluffing.

Dante edged toward me on his chair. His eyes took on a look of resignation, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Look, Giovanna, this is the way it is. You know how you have that police record?”

I nodded. It's not something I ever forgot.

“Wilson told Jesse that if Jesse helped him win, Wilson could do something to have your name cleared. Do you understand everything now? When Wilson wins, you'll have a clean record. You can apply for any job you want and go to college anywhere.” He turned and faced forward again. “So I'm resigning.”

The buzzing of the crowd seemed to grow louder as everything that had happened over the last two weeks rearranged itself in my mind. I looked over to where Wilson sat talking with the vice-presidential hopefuls. What could he do that would clear my record? I wasn't sure, but somehow I didn't doubt for a minute that he could do it. Then I stared at Jesse in the audience. All along he'd been trying to help me. It made my breath catch in my throat.

“Why did Jesse wait until last night to tell you?”

“Because he didn't think I was going to win until last night. He didn't want to make me choose between running and helping you.” Dante pointed up to the middle of the crowd. “Look, there's where your friends are sitting. They're saving you a place.”

I still didn't move. My heart simultaneously felt so achingly full and so pierced that I couldn't believe it kept beating. I wanted to be free of that police record. Just the thought brought to mind a future I could jump headfirst into. All I had to say was, “Thanks, Dante. Go ahead and resign.” He planned on doing it, after all. And my future was there, dangling within reach.

But I couldn't let it happen. I knew that.

For a moment I wished I had never brought this chair over and sat next to Dante, that I'd never forced him to tell me what he was doing. But I pushed those thoughts away and faced my brother. “Don't resign for me, Dante. This election is about you, not me.”

Another swearword from Dante. He shut his eyes. “See, I knew you would say that. That's why we had to keep it a secret from you. Jesse and I both knew you'd try to be all noble about it.”

“Well, you were right. I'd rather have you win.”

He didn't say anything, just looked out at the crowd, then he shrugged. “Fine. It's your future. If you don't care about it, why should I?” He waved in the general direction of the audience. “Now would you go sit in the stands before you get me in trouble?”

“You're going to give your first speech?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now go. The principal's walking to the podium.”

I stood up and hurried to the bleachers, crawling past people to sit in between Charity and Daphne.

Daphne leaned over to me. “Giving Dante a last minute pep talk?”

“Something like that,” I said.

The principal gave a brief discourse about how blessed we were to live in a democratic society, then introduced the candidates. The people running for secretary, treasurer, and vice president spoke. They said the usual stuff. I promise I'll do a great job, and so on. They threw in little school spirit snippets to get the audience to clap—which everyone did, probably so their arms wouldn't fall asleep.

Finally Wilson strolled to the podium. He smiled up at everyone and no one in particular. While he spoke, polite applause and hoots of encouragement surrounded him. Then Dante stood up and walked to the podium. My heart followed his every footstep.

He stood in front of the microphone and set his speech on the podium. I would have been shaking, but he looked up calmly. “First of all, I want to thank everybody who worked on my campaign, gathering signatures and making posters and stuff. Thanks for believing in me.” He looked up toward me and smiled. A pause stretched through the auditorium, and then he spoke again. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I was running for president for the wrong reason.”

No, this wasn't his first speech. I stared at Dante, shaking my head. Despite everything he'd said to me, he was resigning. I didn't know whether I wanted to yell at him or kiss him.

“The thing is,” Dante went on, “I originally wanted to do some sort of memorial for Norman Pike, you know, just something that said our class remembered him. When the student council wouldn't do anything, I decided, no problem, I'd run for president.” Dante put both hands on the podium, gripping it on either side. His gaze moved from the audience to the paper in front of him, but he wasn't reading. “Norman was one of us. We shouldn't forget him. We shouldn't overlook people. Not anybody.”

Dante shrugged, and his attention went back to the audience. “Then I realized I don't have to be president to make a memorial happen. All I need is for you to help me show the student council that we want to do something for Norman.” Another shrug, and Dante leaned in to the microphone as though to let us in on a secret. “I figure, why not let Wilson plan the dances, fund-raisers, and all that stuff. He wants to do it.”

Dante took a step back, raised both hands up as though conducting an orchestra, and called out, “Let's tell the student council that we want a memorial. Put your hands together for Norman!”

The noise was immediate. It didn't trickle in, it didn't build, it filled the room fully formed. Clapping, stomping, and the chant, “Nor-man! Nor-man!” vibrated around me. I chanted myself, although I barely heard my own voice. The energy of the crowd swallowed it whole.

It didn't seem like defeat at all. Dante had turned his resignation into something powerful.

“Nor-man! Nor-man!”

I wished Norman could have heard his name booming through the auditorium. No matter what else we did, this was the memorial I would remember.

Finally Dante stepped back up to the microphone and called out, “Thank you! I think the candidates for student council heard us.” He turned sideways, looking over to the chairs where the candidates sat. “Hey, can I see by a show of hands which of you pledge to work on a memorial for Norman if you're elected?”

They didn't hesitate. Every hand went up.

“Cool.” Dante nodded and picked up his speech. “That's all I really wanted to say, so I'm officially resigning. Thanks.”

He walked back to his seat, and every gaze in the room followed him. Charity leaned toward me and over the noise of the clapping said, “That's what I see in him.”

Chapter
17

E
ven though Dante resigned, the race was still close. But this was only because someone started a write-in campaign, and the student body nearly elected Norman Pike as the posthumous school president.

I suppose it's a good thing he didn't win, though, because I doubt Norman would have been good at all the technical aspects of the job that, you know, required you to be alive. Still, it gave me an odd sense of satisfaction that Wilson nearly lost to a dead guy.

I knew I wouldn't see Jesse before school ended, so I texted him that I wanted to get together and talk. Then I compulsively checked my phone for an answer, which he never sent.

I tried to find a time to talk to Wilson about what he was going to do to clear my record, but that didn't happen until after school. And that was only because I ran into him at Dante's locker talking with my brother.

When I walked up, Dante was nodding his head, listening to Wilson with apparent approval.

“So it's all done then?” Dante asked.

“My father took the evidence in to the police chief last night.”

“Last night?” Dante let out a grunt and raised one hand in the air. “What if I hadn't resigned today?”

“I knew you would.” Then Wilson winked at me. “But if you hadn't, well, I guess I would have helped Giovanna anyway.”

“Helped me how?” I asked. “What exactly did you do?”

Wilson gave me a wide grin. I knew it was just because he was happy with himself, but he really did have a nice smile. It was enough to make me forgive Raine for being so silly about him. “Well, a few weeks ago, I got to thinking about you and the whole biology break-in,” Wilson said. “I always believed in your innocence. You had no reason to steal things. Tim Murphy, on the other hand—well, drug habits are expensive. I'm sure most of the stuff from the biology room went right to a pawn shop with anything else he'd stolen recently. But the computer had a serial number. A person can't just pawn those without the risk of being caught. Still, it was worth at least a thousand dollars secondhand, so it's not the kind of thing he'd get rid of either. I figured he was just waiting for an opportunity to unload it, and the best way to collect evidence of your innocence was to give him the opportunity.”

Wilson paused, maybe for effect or maybe just to take a breath. I didn't let the pause last. “What did you do?”

“I had a friend ask around about buying a used computer system. Murphy was happy enough to oblige. We set up a sting, and I got some great video of the event. Murphy ended up confessing to the whole thing.”

I stared at Wilson. I'm not sure which amazed me more, that the real criminal had been so easy to catch or that I hadn't thought of something along those lines to clear my name long ago.

“You just had a friend call him up?”

Wilson laughed and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Well, it wasn't quite that simple. My friend moves in the same circles as Murphy, and I had to pay him a small fee.” Which suddenly made the scene in the library with Alex make perfect sense.

“Still, it was worth it,” Wilson said. He glanced at Dante and then back at me. “Worth it to clear your name, I mean.”

Right. I knew it had been worth it to Wilson because it had given him leverage with Jesse, and in the end with Dante too. I couldn't resent Wilson, though. With each passing moment I realized more and more ways my life had just improved. This meant no more hours of forced community service with Earl watching over my shoulder. No more probation. And best of all, people would stop making jokes about my criminal tendencies. The Frog Avenger was about to retire.

 

I thanked Dante on the way home, and while we sat in the kitchen with Skipper eating after-school snacks, and while he worked on his motorcycle. Pretty much I followed him around throwing out exclamations of gratitude. “I bet they'll stop making me see the school counselor too,” I told him. We were out in the garage, and I was leaning up against the wall watching him polish the chrome on his bike. “From now on, no one but my parents will tell me to take responsibility for my actions.”

“And you don't have to listen to them,” Dante said. “Welcome back to ordinary teenage life.”

I let out a happy sigh. “I can hold my head high at school again. Everyone will think I'm completely normal now—well, except for the people who know I just went out with a compulsive gambling geek who lost me to another guy on a bet.”

Dante laughed, shook his head, and ran a rag over the front of his bike.

I glanced down at my cell phone, which I was still carrying around because Jesse hadn't called back yet. I knew he would, though, because he cared about me. Everyone should be as happy I was. Especially Dante. And Charity.

I watched my brother silently for a moment, wondering what he felt for her. I tried to ask in a roundabout way so he wouldn't get suspicious. “So are you going to prom?”

“No, it's too much hassle.”

“Then what are you going to do on prom night?”

He picked up a fresh rag and dabbed leather cleaner onto it. “I thought I'd have a get-together over here. Maybe rent a few videos. Just something for people who don't want to do the whole dance scene. Plus, I'll invite everyone who helped out on my campaign.”

Which would mean Charity. Maybe that's why he was doing it. She couldn't go to prom because of that whole no-dating-until-sixteen rule, and he wanted to be with her. Maybe. “So . . .” I let the word drift off as I scrutinized Dante for hints of his feelings. “Are you inviting anyone over that you like?”

“Don't be stupid,” he said. “I don't like Raine. In fact, I'm not even inviting her.”