Alex woke up Monday morning feeling unprepared for classes, and she hated that feeling. She knew she’d spent way too much time working on her speech over the weekend. She’d neglected her SAT vocabulary cards yet again—it had been over a week since she’d had time to learn even one new word. But Wednesday was so important. She had to nail this next speech.
Once again, speeches would be limited to only three minutes. This time the sixth- and eighth-grade candidates would talk too, so they had to get through nine speeches in one class period. There wasn’t any room for going over the time limit, and Ms. Farmen had warned everyone she would not hesitate to ring her bell when their time was up. There would be no time for Q and A. Which is probably a good thing, Alex thought grimly, considering how badly I flubbed that part last week. She cringed just thinking about it.
At school Lindsey continued to be oddly kind to Alex. She offered to pass out fliers on election day to kids as they got off the bus.
“That’s so nice of you, Lindsey,” said Alex cautiously. “But I don’t have any fliers. Should I make some, do you think?”
“I can help you,” said Lindsey eagerly. “And I was thinking I could organize some cheerleaders from last year’s squad to create a cheer for you. We could do it on Wednesday morning before first period.”
“Oh, no, please don’t bother,” said Alex. She was feeling increasingly guilty about Lindsey helping with her campaign because of this “unspoken deal,” as Ava called it.
On Tuesday morning Alex and Ava arrived at their lockers to find Lindsey in the process of decorating Alex’s locker.
“Oh, shoot!” she said with a laugh. “I wanted to surprise you before you got here! Oh, well. Like you wouldn’t have guessed it was me.”
Alex’s locker was papered with a big sign that said SHE’S NUMBER ONE! ALEX FOR PRESIDENT! VOTE SACKETT! Lindsey had stuck several balloons to the top part and was sticking tiny silver and gold stars around the edges.
Ava raised an eyebrow as she regarded Alex’s locker, but didn’t say anything. She opened her own locker, shoved some books and papers in, took some books and papers out, and headed off to homeroom.
Lindsey was still peeling off little shiny stickers and putting them on Alex’s locker, talking the whole time. “Almost done here,” she said. “I just want to—”
“Lindsey.” Alex said it quietly.
Lindsey stopped and looked at her.
“You don’t have to do this,” said Alex. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”
A look of pretend confusion crossed Lindsey’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she said. She stared down at her sheet of star stickers.
“About seeing you in the bathroom. And about the thrift store. It’s not a big deal. I’m sure no one would care even if they knew, but I’m not going to say anything to anyone, I promise.”
Lindsey sighed, and the look of innocent bewilderment disappeared from her face. She glanced to the right and to the left, as though worried they might be overheard, then leaned in closer to Alex. “Okay, thanks,” she said. “I—it’s been really rough this year. For my family, I mean—we don’t have a lot of money right now. My dad says it’s temporary, but he’s been trying to turn things around with the restaurant for a while now and it’s been . . . hard. I hate school lunch. I hate that I have to get it every day.” She stopped talking and took a deep breath.
“What happened with the restaurant?” asked Alex.
Lindsey closed her eyes and leaned against the lockers. “My dad was a banker. A really successful one. But he’s always loved to cook, and he always wanted to own a restaurant. So he and my mom invested most of our savings in the place, and Corey’s parents became their partners and also invested money into the business. It was really starting to do well.” She sighed. “It was doing so well, they opened a second restaurant.”
Alex waited. Lindsey had a faraway look in her eye, as though recalling troubled memories.
“But then this chain restaurant offered to buy both restaurants. Corey’s parents sold right away, but my parents refused. So the chain people opened one of their restaurants right across the street from our restaurant on purpose, to drive us out of business. And we can’t compete with their prices, even though ours has way better food.”
“That’s so unfair!” said Alex indignantly.
“I know. I even think they did some really underhanded stuff, like posing as customers and writing bad reviews online, and bribing the zoning guy so we couldn’t add a bigger parking area.”
“That sounds illegal!”
“It probably is. And that’s the other complicated thing. See, Corey’s mom is a lawyer. When my dad asked her to help him with the legal aspects of the whole thing, she said she thought he should find someone else, someone who wasn’t a former partner. Which was weird because he thought they still were partners. So our parents kind of stopped being friends.”
So that explained why there was awkwardness between Corey’s and Lindsey’s families. Alex nodded. Lindsey seemed to want to go on.
“Sometimes I’m ashamed that we lost most of our money and are having trouble paying for our house,” said Lindsey. “But other times I’m proud of my dad for following his dream, even if it hasn’t worked out so well.”
“I understand being embarrassed about money,” said Alex quietly. “I mean, my family’s had times when it’s been hard and we haven’t been able to do stuff other people are able to do. And you always find people with more money than you have. Like in this dumb campaign. I don’t know where Ella and Logan get all their campaign money, but I can’t even begin to do what they’ve done in terms of posters, and handing out candy and stuff.”
“I think Ella’s parents are way involved in her campaign,” said Lindsey. “And I know Logan’s kind of spoiled. His parents are divorced, and they give him anything he asks for.”
Alex nodded. “That makes sense. But anyway, it’s really nice of you to help me, but please don’t worry about me saying anything to anyone. I think it’s awesome that your dad is following his dream, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I hope you guys fight that chain and win. And—” Alex broke off, lost in a new thought.
The first bell rang. “You okay?” asked Lindsey.
Alex snapped out of her reverie. “Yes,” she said. “You just helped me realize I really owe someone an apology.”
“I did?”
Alex nodded vigorously. “You did. I’ve been awful. But I think I have a way to make up for it. So, thanks!”
Lindsey shrugged. “You’re welcome.”