Rosie Swanson: Fourth-Grade Geek for President Read Free Page B

“Okay then. How about vice president? Who came here today to run for VP?”
    Both of the girls from Mrs. Munson’s room called out their names. Then they looked at each other and crossed their fingers. I wondered if they would still be so buddy-buddy after the election.
    When Mr. Jolly got to class secretary, Karla something and Roxanne Handleman both started waving. Roxanne tried to raise her hand the highest. Seeing this, Karla something got on her knees and stretched even taller. Finally, Roxanne stood on her chair.
    Watching them made me embarrassed to be a girl.
    Next came treasurer. Louise the Disease raised her Kleenex over her head. “Louise Marie Smythe!” she yelled.
    As soon as she said it, the boy from Mrs. Munson’s class cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Robert Moneypenny! Robert Moneypenny for treasurer!”
    Louise the Disease stared at him in disbelief. “That’s your
real
name? Your real name is Robert Moneypenny?”
    The boy grinned and leaned his chair back on two legs.
    Louise the Disease frowned. “But that’s not fair! Is that fair? His name is too good. It gives him an advantage.”
    When Mrs. Munson said it was fair, Louise the Disease turned to Robert Moneypenny and coughed on him.
    After that, there were only three of us left. Nic and Vic and me.
    Mr. Jolly went back to the twins. “Have you two gentlemen decided what you want to do yet?”
    Nic and Vic looked at each other and began raising their eyebrows up and down. It’s like they were talking in some creepy kind of “twin” language or something.
    Finally, they looked up. “Treasurer and vice president,” they said at the same time.
    Mr. Jolly picked up his chalk. “Okay. Fine. Which one of you will be running for which job?”
    Nic shrugged glumly. “Who cares? What difference—”
    “—does it make?” said Vic.
    They were still figuring it out when Mrs. Munson glanced in my direction.
    “What about you in the back? What office are you interested in? We’ve got lots of other things to discuss and we’re running out of time.”
    Everyone turned around. That’s the bad thing about sitting in the back. Everybody always turns around.
    I didn’t know what to do. I mean, I’ve never, ever been a quitter before, but …
    “Rosie,
please
,” said Mr. Jolly. “We really need to know, okay? What office?”
    I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip.
    “President,” I heard myself say. “I guess I’m running for president.”

3 ME AND
THOMAS JEFFERSON
    It was Saturday, and as usual, Maxie and Earl and I were hanging out in Maxie’s garage. Maxie’s father has an old 1955 red-and-white Chevy that the three of us use as a clubhouse, sort of. Mr. Zuckerman thinks he’s going to fix it up someday. But Maxie says it’ll probably rust in the garage for another twenty years, and then some guy with tattoos will come haul it to the dump for fifty bucks.
    Anyhow, while we were sitting there, Earl and Maxie were having this stupid argument about whether dogs were better than cats. I wasn’t joining in, though. I was still depressed about the candidates’ meeting. And I’m not one of those people who can act all happy when I’m not. Besides that, their stupid cat-and-dog argument was turning so idiotic it was embarrassing just to listen to it.
    Earl kept saying that stinky cats neededstinky litter boxes. And Maxie kept arguing that bad-breath dogs drank from germy toilets.
    Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Yeah, well, guess what? I hate this whole stinky, germy conversation. So why don’t you both just knock it off.”
    Maxie and Earl looked at me. They had been trying their best to ignore my bad mood. But I could have told them it wouldn’t work. When I’m pouty, I am very persistent.
    “Okay, fine,” Maxie said. “I guess we might as well get this over with. What the heck’s wrong with you this morning, anyway? Why are you acting like such a
dingle?
”
    “I am
not
a dingle,” I snapped.