Dodger for President Read Free Page A

invisible, Beekswould get elected, just like he had every year since kindergarten, and life would go on.
    I figured, how hard could it be? It’s not like one day of being absent could change my life forever, right?

 
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CHAPTER THREE
Making My Own Decisions
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    THE NEXT MORNING , bright and early, I ran up to my classroom before school started. Mrs. Starsky was just getting there, wearing a brand-new pair of icing-free shoes. “Hello, Willie!” she said. “How’s our school’s newest political candidate doing today?”
    I looked down at the floor—which still had a vivid orange volcano-cake stain—and said, “Uhh, about that candidate thing . . . I’ve thought it over, and I don’t think I want to run for president after all. I didn’t really want to run in the first place.”
    Mrs. Starsky looked sort of puzzled. “But, Willie,” she said, “you seemed so fired up about it just a day ago. What happened?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I mumbled. “I guess I just wasn’t myself yesterday. And running wasn’t even my idea.”
    Mrs. Starsky gave me the dreaded Understanding Teacher Smile. “Oh, William. I have a little story I think you should hear. Why don’t you have a seat?”
    I sat, and she launched into one of those inspiring pep-talk stories that teachers save up for these special moments. “You’re not going to believe this, Willie, but I was once a shy kid.”
    Mrs. Starsky had been
shy
? I found that hard to believe—this was a woman who sang “The Star-Spangled Banner” on the intercom every day during morning announcements. Even though she was 100 percent tone-deaf.
    â€œBut then my best friend persuaded me to try out for the middle-school cheerleading squad. She was always much more daring than I was—kind of like your fearless friend, Lizzie. I tried my hardest to get out of trying out. I pretended my throathurt. I tried to tell the coach I had a sprained ankle. I even claimed that someone else had signed my name on the tryout list—can you believe that?”
    I smiled at her. Weakly.
    â€œBut my friend wouldn’t give up on me, and when the day came, there I was, standing on the line at the edge of the basketball court in a hotpink leotard.”
    Eww
.
    Mrs. Starsky beamed at me. “By the end of the session, I even found the courage to let myself get flung up in the air from the top of a pyramid formation. So you see, Willie, sometimes you have to rise to a new challenge, even if you do have some second thoughts the morning after.” Shaking my head to erase the weird image of Mrs. Starsky flying through the air waving pom-poms, I asked, “So, what happened with the tryout? Did you make the team?”
    Just then, the bell rang to let everyone into the building. “Ooh, look at the time! This was a lovely chat, Willie, but I have to write the homework on the chalkboard now. Please think about what I’ve said, all right? If you still really want to drop outof the election, you can let me know by three PM today.”
    â€œOh, come on, Mrs. Starsky. You can’t tell me ninety percent of the story and then not let me know how it ended. Please tell me what happened.”
    She laughed nervously.
    â€œPlease? Just tell me—did you make the team?”
    â€œWell,” she said, “I didn’t quite . . . I mean . . . there was a little problem with the pyramid stunt. But the dentists at the hospital did a great job of fixing my front teeth. And in the end—after some minor plastic surgery—I learned some important life lessons.”
    Swell
, I thought. She tried the new experience and escaped with nothing worse than a smashed-up face. That was tremendously comforting. As the rest of the class arrived, I thought about Mrs. Starsky’s request to wait until the end of the day to drop out of