Something Like Possible by Miel Moreland

Author:Miel Moreland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Eighteen Days Until Election Day

@WestPlymouthPress: Final results are in! The top fundraisers: Shawn Guse (sr. class president), Annie Delaney (jr. class president), and Jacob Levine (soph. rep).

It’s hard to focus on babysitting when Victoria keeps sending me fifteen-second clips of her policy platform, in spoken word format. Especially when they’re good enough to distract me from losing out on the fundraiser poster spots. I compromise: Lacy makes herself at home in my lap, Trevor half-toppled on my shoulder, while I play the videos for them.

“This doesn’t rhyme enough,” Lacy complains at the end of the catwalk-funding one.

Dutifully, I text Victoria. Our demographic is sixteen-year-olds, not six-year-olds, but considering that I’ve made Lacy part of my two-person focus group, I owe it to her to pass on the feedback.

“I liked the one where she was really fast,” says Trevor. “That was funny.”

He means her Student Judiciary Council video. If Lacy could have followed it, she probably would have liked it too: judicial, acquittal, dismissal …

“Thanks! I’ll let her know,” I say.

Me

Sorry for the limited feedback rn, working til 5

But overall I think they’re awesome!

Good bones

Victoria

Thanks!:)

Can you meet up tonight to go over them some more?

I know the schedule is for me to post the first next Monday

I try not to swoon over her campaign calendar reference. This is clearly why I have to get into YPBC this summer. Once I’m surrounded by fifty other kids who have also Google Calendar–ed the crap out of class president campaigns, I can’t get all squishy about all of them. Lacy and Trevor are now busy with Legos, so I bite my lip and text her back.

Me

For sure, where/when?

Isn’t it Disney marathon week?

Victoria

I’ll go later when they start Moana

It’d be fun if you came

My immediate response is a mental row of exclamation marks, doing joyous cartwheels from my brain all the way to my fingers, which are already poised to reply YES. Cue the balloon drop: Victoria wants me there.

Then I hesitate. Because as much as I really want more time with Victoria—maybe even in a love seat again, since no one knows about my crush and so isn’t going to call us out for violating the movie night rule—I shouldn’t. The Plan demands that I focus on the campaign, not her cuteness.

Me

Thanks for the invite but I have to pass

Chelsea and I agreed to do some long night-driving sessions while school’s out

Come over to mine for the campaign prep?

As soon as Mrs. Charleson returns, I practically sprint home, splashing through the puddles. I’m thankful that nobody else is around yet to see me do the world’s fastest tidying of the kitchen counters. When Victoria rings the doorbell, my stomach squeezes tight, like all its atoms want to be closer together, better to guard against the swoopy feelings that now ripple through me anytime she’s near.

“Hey,” she says, and my stomach flips upside down in surrender.

I lead her down the hall to my bedroom, then carefully leave the door ajar. It’s like keeping a

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