Firegirl by Tony Abbott Page B

Jeff not caring this time, though. He did it on purpose. He had planned it.
    Now it was too late to do anything.
    I heard Kayla naming Samantha Embriano next. Dave fidgeted in his seat and seemed to be waiting for someone to say his name. He caught Kayla’s eye; she shrugged and nominated him, too. Samantha frowned.
    Joey nominated himself then retracted it, naming Eric LoBianco instead and laughing through it all.
    Mrs. Tracy wrote the names on the board. “Anyone else?” she asked. “No more? So, we have Courtney, Darlene, Samantha Embriano, Dave, Eric …”
    Jessica’s hand went up.
    “Yes, Jessica? Would you like to name someone?”
    In her small, breathy way she said, “Tom.”
    It was as if I’d suddenly been zapped with a thousand volts of electricity. A hundred thousand. Every part of me felt a jolt of hot energy. What did she say my name for? I’m no candidate. I didn’t even show anyone my poster. I didn’t even want to be president — not that anyone would vote for me. Then I thought Mrs. Tracy might object because I didn’t campaign, but she didn’t.
    “Jessica named Tom,” she said in the same plain way she said everything else. Then she chalked my name on the board beneath the others.
    It was so strange, so embarrassing to hear my name connected with Jessica’s. With all those eyes turning to me, Jeff even turning, I felt my face go so red. I didn’t want this. I didn’t deserve it. The images in my dream rolled back again.
    I felt finally as if I had lied a really horrible lie (worse than any of Jeff’s), and now that Jessica had named me, everybody knew the lie. I was suddenly ashamed and angry with myself. I wanted to run. My stomach churned. I felt cold.
    “Good. Any other names?” Mrs. Tracy asked.
    Then a strange thing happened. If I felt nervous and ashamed, the other part was that I felt I had to do something. My name was right up there on the board with everybody else’s. The teacher had written it the same way she had written the others. The same way she had written Courtney’s.
    And now that Courtney was already nominated — stolen from me by Jeff — it seemed there was only one thing I could do. A thing no one else would do. And I had to do it. The only way to get Jessica into the class, really into the class, was for one of us to get her in.
    I mean, why not? I don’t know if anybody would vote for her, but Jessica was smart and nice and she’d been to lots of schools, so she knew how things worked. And she even made that joke about the beach. Maybe the only way she could really come into the class was if she got involved. We would all get over the problems about her being burned and different and just get down to business. Maybe this was even better than nominating Courtney. I would do it. I would.
    Mrs. Tracy looked around again. “Is there no one else? Are we all done nominating?”
    I swallowed hard. “Jessica —”
    “Well, all right, then,” she said, turning to the board to scratch numbers next to the names. “We have Courtney, Darlene, Samantha, Dave, Eric, and Tom.”
    And Jessica.
    Sweat poured down my chest and onto my stomach. The sides of my shirt were soaked. My waist was soaked. I glanced around the class. They were all looking at the board. No one was looking at me. Even Jessica’s head was down.
    I turned to Mrs. Tracy again. She has to write Jessica’s name. Add the name. Do it now.
    Mrs. Tracy set down the chalk and dusted her hands. “Six altogether. Three girls. Three boys. Good.”
    She hadn’t heard me.
    Did I even say it out loud? I didn’t!
    Mrs. Tracy stepped to her desk and picked up the voting slips, and suddenly it was too late to do anything. I couldn’t say Jessica’s name now. That would be stupid. My mouth wouldn’t even work. I was suddenly a tiny invisible thing with no voice. Too small to do anything. And it was too late.
    “We’ll now begin our voting,” she said.
    Confused, hot, my blood racing, I tried to busy myself