The Flip Side (8 page)

“I'm the adviser,” Mr. Alto repeats, more firmly this time, bringing my attention back to him. “It's only a couple of weeks. I'm excited for Charlotte to see what student government's all about. She's a girl with a good head on her shoulders, a hard worker, and I can tell she's a great leader. A diamond in the rough, just waiting to find her place of leadership in our school. I'd like to encourage that. So, again, I'm appointing her temporarily. When Mandy gets back, Charlotte will have to step aside and wait till next year, when she can run for an office.” He winks at me. Embarrassment causes heat to rise in my cheeks. I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm glad Mr. Alto thinks so highly of me, but did he have to say all that in front of the entire student council? In front of Bobby? He's going to think I'm the teacher's pet. No one likes a teacher's pet. Although, why do I care if he likes me?

The boy to the left of me is tapping his pen against the desk, obviously bored.

“Thanks, Mr. Alto,” I say belatedly, because everybody seems to be waiting for me to say something.

“All right.” He slaps his hands together. “Let's get this meeting under way, shall we? Kristine?” He wanders over to a seat in the corner and settles in, crossing his arms over his chest, grinning contentedly.

Kristine shuffles some papers. “Okay. I hereby call this meeting to order.”

I take another quick bite and fold the front cover of my notebook back, click my pen so that it's ready.

“Do you have the agenda?” Kristine asks, eyeing me.

I swallow my bite of sandwich too early and have to take a gulp of water to get it down. My eyes are watering by the time I can answer. “Uh, sorry. I didn't know I had to do that.”

She flicks her blond hair over her shoulder. “I provide the talking points, but Mandy always puts the agenda together because she is amazingly organized. So I'll just work from my talking points. Go ahead and take the roll.”

“What's the point?” Bobby asks. “We all know everyone is here.”

“Mandy's not,” Kristine says.

“That's obvious,” Bobby tells her. “I just don't think we have to be so formal.”

“Then you should have run for president. I want the roll called.”

I appreciate Bobby trying to make things easier for me, but I just want to get this done with as little trouble as possible. I rattle the paper Mr. Alto handed me. “I've got it. No problem.”

I call the roll, grateful for the opportunity to put a name with every face.

“All right,” Kristine says when I'm finished. “The first item to discuss is prom.”

There's a collective groan from the four boys in the room. I kind of get their lack of enthusiasm. I know Zoe really wants to go, but I haven't given it much thought. It's not like I have a guy in my life who would be willing to shell out the money it takes to go to prom. Then there is the fact that he has to be a junior or a senior. And with the trials coming up, I've been pretty much ignoring everything else. Which might be one reason why I'm here.

“I know, I know,” Kristine says, waving her hand. “It's not something that student council usually involves itself in, but some of us are very, very concerned that this year will suck if we don't step in. The prom committee”—she sniffs—“hasn't even selected a location yet, and prom is only three weeks away, which is why I made an executive decision and told Deidre that we were taking over. I mean, we owe it to the juniors, and especially to the seniors, since it'll be their last prom. So the first order of business is to come up with a theme.”

Tasha Nguyen raises her hand. She's one of the topknot girls. She has black hair, while the other topknot girl—Jane Stables, I learned during roll call—has blond hair.

“Yes, Tasha?” Kristine says.

“How about
Frozen
? We could have ice sculptures and—”

“What are we? Twelve?” Kristine asks.

Tasha's cheeks burn a bright red. I feel sorry for her. I thought her idea had potential.

One guy's hand shoots up.

“Brandon?” Kristine calls on him.

“How about a
Star Wars
theme? We could call it Prom Wars.”

“Yeah!” the other guys shout. The ones sitting near Brandon knock their knuckles against his in a show of solidarity.

Kristine rolls her eyes. “No.”

“This isn't a dictatorship,” Brandon says. “You have to put it to a vote. Isn't that right, Mr. Alto?”

Mr. Alto looks up from his phone. “That's right.”

I have to admit that I'm finding it a little interesting that everyone is taking the workings of the student council so seriously. It's remarkable that they not only know all these rules but care about them. It matters to them that things are handled correctly.

Kristine sighs. “All right, then. Do I have a motion?”

Brandon raises his hand again. “I move that the prom theme is Prom Wars.”

“I second,” a guy named Alex says.

“It has been moved and seconded,” Kristine says. “All in favor raise your hand.”

Four hands shoot up. All belonging to the guys. Bobby catches my eye, gives his head a little jerk like he has the power to mentally raise my hand. But I have visions of a sci-fi convention atmosphere. If Zoe's wish comes true and Michael asks her to prom, she would kill me if lightsabers were being wielded.

“Ah, come on,” Brandon whines. “Don't y'all want the guys to want to go to prom?”

“It'll become a costume ball. They'll all dress up like Han Solo,” Tasha says.

“What's wrong with that?” Brandon asks.

“Everything,” Tasha says.

With a huff of air Brandon slouches down in his chair. “You guys are no fun.”

“The motion does not carry.” Kristine looks pointedly at me. “Did you get all that for the minutes?”

I give her a thumbs-up. “Got it.”

“Okay, so any other theme suggestions?”

I glance around. The girls' brows are furrowed in concentration, although I suspect that most just don't want to have their ideas shot down by Kristine. The guys have all crossed their arms over their chests in defiance. I guess they've given up.

I'm trying to think of something that could be fun and different. Last year I competed in a world competition in Paris. Gwen brought home the gold with her bar routine, while I brought home a gold on beam. We didn't get to do a lot of sightseeing, but still I fell in love with the City of Light. Tentatively I raise my hand.

“Charlotte,” Kristine says.

“I'm not sure if I'm allowed to contribute—”

“You've been appointed to replace Mandy,” Kristine cuts in. “You have full student council member status.”

She has such confidence, has obviously devoted some time to learning the rules. I have to admire that.

“Okay, then. What if our theme is A Night in Paris? Paris is the city of love. We could put twinkling white holiday lights all over the ceiling and—”

“Boring,” Kristine says.

“I like it,” Bobby says.

Kristine glares at him. “Really?”

The three other guys are looking at Bobby like he's lost his mind.

“Prom is in three weeks,” Bobby says. “We're short on time, so it's not like we want anything elaborate. Maybe we could create a little river, make it romantic. You want romance, right? I just think it has potential.”

“Okay.” Kristine smiles at him sweetly, like he's special. I can't blame her. He has definitely won her over with the romance aspect. He has won me over as well. It's too bad I won't be going to prom to see his vision of my theme. Even if by some miracle I were invited, it's too close to Olympic trials. I have to cocoon my thoughts that close to competition. I can't allow any distractions. Prom would be a major distraction, with shopping and appointments for hair, nails—

“Vote!” Brandon yells, and I realize that just thinking about prom is distracting. I almost forgot I am supposed to be taking notes.

The vote is nine to three in favor—Bobby is the only guy to vote in favor. It gives me an awesome sense of satisfaction to make a notation that I brought forth a motion that carried. Maybe I misjudged how much fun government could be.

Of course, I also have to acknowledge that if Bobby hadn't supported my idea, it might have gone nowhere.

“Okay, next order of business is a venue-scouting expedition. Unfortunately, at this late date we have only one possible alternative to the gym, so we'll check it out Saturday night,” Kristine says. “Everyone meet at the Roll-R-Rama at eight to evaluate its potential. Then we'll discuss and vote at the next meeting.”

“Cool, a roller rink,” Brandon says. “I could get into Rollerblading at prom.”

Kristine rolls her eyes. “We won't be skating at prom. We just need to visualize the venue's suitability.”

My hand shoots up, and Kristine calls on me, obviously impatient. But she's not the one my question is for. “Mr. Alto, I don't have to go Saturday, right?”

“Of course you do,” Kristine says impatiently before he can answer. “You're the appointed secretary.”

I'm still looking at Mr. Alto, who's studying his phone as though it's the most important part of his world. “But you said I would have to participate only during lunch.”

He finally lifts his gaze to me. “Government is not always predictable. You made a commitment. You have to see it through when something unexpected comes up.”

I know all about dealing with unexpected issues—like when my dad got laid off from his job. I don't need this class to teach me that. Nor do I need it to teach me about seeing things through. Even when I've known that my performance in the first two events of an all-around competition wasn't good enough to receive a medal, I still gave the last two events my all. I didn't stop giving it my best. I want to continue to argue that he's reneging on our arrangement, but not with eleven other students as witnesses to a battle I'm probably going to lose. Okay, to be honest I don't want to lose in front of Bobby Singh. So I clamp my mouth shut and decide to just be glad that it's Saturday evening, when I don't have practice.

“Can we move on now?” Kristine asks me with a pointed look.

I nod. “Sure.”

“All right, then. Our last bit of business is to divide up into committees,” Kristine says. “I have them mapped out here. Bobby and I will handle the music, find us a good DJ. Who wants to be on the decorating committee?”

By the end of that discussion, I'm on the refreshments committee with the guys—minus Bobby—with Brandon serving as chair. The remaining council members are on the decorating committee, and Jane is their chair.

The bell rings.

Grateful that I survived, I slap my notebook closed and push to my feet, very much aware of Bobby standing and waiting, his gaze on me. I give him a shy smile as I reach him.

“I didn't know you'd be here,” he says.

I shrug. “It just came up yesterday.”

“I was wondering how my
I SURVIVED A CHICK FLICK
badge was coming.”

“Sorry. I haven't had time.”

“Yeah, Zoe said you were really busy. I had fun Saturday.”

“Me too.”

“But you don't want me to have your number.” Statement, not question. I feel bad that I told Zoe not to give it to him; plus now it's awkward.

“Life is a little crazy right now.”

“I have no problem with crazy.”

I don't know what to say to that.

“Bobby!” Kristine calls out. “Got a minute? I need to talk with you about something.”

Bobby gives me an apologetic smile. “Later.”

“Yeah.” I'm disappointed and partly relieved, because, even knowing it might be a bad idea, I was about to apologize and give him my phone number. Nothing can happen between us this close to trials. Too much is at stake for me to risk a distraction. So it's good that Kristine needed to talk with him before I made that mistake. Although, I suspect she wants to do more than just talk with him. It seems like she might have a little crush of her own on Bobby. Not that it should matter to me.

I head for the door. Just before I step into the hallway, I glance back. Kristine has her hand on Bobby's arm, stroking those fine biceps of his. Yep, she definitely wants more than conversation.

When I walk out, I see Zoe leaning against a locker, her eyes big and bright. She hurries over and falls into step beside me.

“So how was student council?” she asks.

I glance over at her. I told her yesterday why I wouldn't be able to join her for lunch. “Did you know Bobby Singh was on the student council?”

“Of course I did.”

“You didn't think to mention it?”

She grins. “I was afraid you'd get nervous, chicken out of going.” Her eyes widen, and she grabs my arm and staggers to a stop. “Wait a minute.”

She peers into my face, our noses almost touching. “You're wearing makeup. You do like him! I knew it. I knew I should have given him your number, that you were just playing hard to get.”

“Zoe, I didn't even know he was on the student council.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I didn't.”

“Then why are you wearing makeup?”

The bigger question is why didn't I go to the trouble of washing it off? Because I knew I was going to be late, minutes seemed to matter, and I didn't think anyone would notice.

“I had some extra time this morning and was just messing around.”

“It looks really good. If I get invited to prom, will you help me with my makeup?”

I want so much for her to get invited to prom. “Absolutely.”

“Thanks.” She starts walking again. “So you and Bobby. How did that go?”

“It was a little awkward,” I tell her. “You know, since I didn't let you give him my number.”