“He was right,” Leo said.
Ms. Lute’s eyes shone with concern. “Hmm, you are in the thick of it, aren’t you, with your mother’s bid for Congress? To think she started on the school board . . .”
Leo politely nodded.
“Then town selectwoman, a woman with Venezuelan heritage able to stand out in this traditionally strong Irish community. And then state senator and now . . . Congress.” Ms. Lute crossed her fingers, starstruck. Proof that she didn’t know Mrs. Torres personally. Ms. Lute lowered her voice. “I know her schedule must be overwhelming, but if she’d ever consider a school visit—”
Angeline watched Leo’s body go rigid.
“I’ll be sure to let her know,” he said automatically. “If it were up to her and not her campaign manager, she’d love nothing more.”
Respectful and diplomatic, just like the politician’s son he’d been raised to be.
“Hush, little baby, don’t you cry,” someone sang in a soft voice from the back of the room.
Leo jerked his head around, searching, landing on no one but Angeline. She’d hoped the teasing would have died down by now. She’d strong-armed everyone in their circle of friends and beyond into taking down the captured videos and screenshots of him. If it wasn’t online, it didn’t happen, right?
“They’ll forget soon enough,” Angeline whispered to Leo. Every part of her wanted to say more, to apologize again, but his firm jaw and dark eyes were like a brick wall.
He gave a cursory glance at her ring and the heart turned out, but his expression never changed. He faced front again, and she did her best to focus on Ms. Lute and the immediate problem at hand: the primary. Because if she didn’t win, or prove to Cat that she was trying to, this would all be for nothing.
Ms. Lute flipped to her next slide: A Primary on Primaries! “We’ll see our own primary in action on Friday at a school-wide assembly. Better get cracking on your speeches, my prospective nominees.”
She swept her hand toward Emmie, Leo, and Angeline, who smiled her “Ask an Angel” signature smile while thinking: Well, isn’t this a kick in the ovaries?
* * *
“If I’m elected, you’re elected,” Emmie said near the entrance to the cafeteria, where dozens of rectangular white Formica tables sat surrounded by metal chairs of red and blue.
Angeline stopped and tugged on Maxine’s arm. They were on their way to get BLTs at the sandwich station—the only edible lunch all week. She missed going to Frank’s, even though she’d only ever ordered a caprese salad.
“The primary’s Friday,” Angeline said. “We don’t have to do anything for days.” Three more students—freshmen, but still—gathered around Emmie. “What is she doing?”
“Campaigning,” Maxine said. “The time you spent on Ask an Angel this summer’s probably the same as she’s spent preparing for this. She’s waited three years to go for president.”
“But that’s not fair.”
Maxine laughed.
“What?” Angeline narrowed her eyes at her best friend.
“Have you met you?”
Emmie’s voice could still be heard, but her small frame was easily swallowed by the few students around her. “Did you know the student council president used to serve as a liaison to the school board? Bringing concerns—your concerns—to the administrators who have the power to effect change. If I’m elected, I’ll take up that mantle once again. My figurative door will be open to all of you. Tell me what you need. Tell me what’s important to you. Tell me what I can do to effect change for you.”
“Make them stop rejecting my happiness club!” someone cried. “Like, seriously, what’s wrong with being happy?”
“Screw that!” Josh Baker yelled from across the room. “You need to do something about this.” He lifted his sandwich in the air.
A screech, and Emmie’s tiny head popped above those around her. From the blue metal chair she now stood on, she said, “What is your concern?”
Angeline snorted.
Josh peeled open his sandwich and let the slice of bread on either side fall to the floor, followed by the tomato and lettuce. He swung a piece of bacon with the end bitten off in front of his lower abdomen.
“What are the odds Joshie knows the image he’s projecting?” Maxine said.
Angeline smirked as Emmie pressed on. “Is there an issue with the preparation?”
Josh trudged toward Emmie, the bacon pinched between two fingers. “Clueless on how it’s cooked. All’s I know is how it tastes. Hundred percent like ass.”
Emmie’s lips screwed up, but Angeline’s widened into a grin. Perfect attendance, valedictorian, rule-follower Emmie being forced to choose between defending the lunchroom staff or appealing to her constituents. Nicely done, Baker. Angeline couldn’t have orchestrated something better.
Well, totally, she could have, but still . . .
Emmie smoothed down the front of her lace-fringed shirt that would make grandmas everywhere green with envy. “Well, maybe I can speak with—”
“Less talking, more tasting.” Josh planted himself in front of her, still dangling the bacon. He leaned in, so close that his nose touched the bacon, and sniffed.
Emmie visibly recoiled, probably calculating how it would look if she slathered hand sanitizer on the bacon before taking a bite. And then Emmie opened her mouth and clenched her teeth around it.
What?
Emmie chewed and grimaced. A bulge of a swallow followed.
“Shocking, man, right?” Josh said. “It’s vegan. Vegan bacon? On our BLTs? Sacrilege. Don’t we have a say?”
Murmurs spread through the crowd, and the number of students around Emmie multiplied.
“What’s happening?” Angeline said.
And then Emmie spoke. “We will have more than a say. We will have a choice. For those who want to eat”—she swallowed again—“that, they should be able to. Just as those of us—you, I mean—who want to eat traditional bacon should have the decision firmly in your hands.”
Josh whooped and pumped his fist. “My girl, Emmie Hayes,” he cried, drawing out her name.
“What’s happening”—Maxine crossed her arms in front of her chest—“is that she’s winning.”
Angeline ground her teeth together. “Yeah? Well, bring it.” She yanked a chair to an open space and hopped up. She separated the straps of her tote and pulled out a fistful of small packets. “Hey, hey, there! Vegan. Cruelty-free. Organic. Whatever you need, I’ve got.”