Prom Queen, The (Life at Kingston High Book #3) (6 page)

“I have an idea,” Lishia said suddenly. “I heard about another school doing this once. Art students made all these different bowls, and they served soup in the handmade bowls and sold the soup and the bowls together, probably for more than ten bucks too.”

“That’s a fantastic idea!” Chelsea said.

“I can ask Mrs. Steiner about it in art tomorrow,” Lishia offered. “If we got right on it, we could probably have quite a few bowls done in a few weeks.”

“We need to have the fundraiser by the first week in May,” Megan pointed out.

“Why?”

“Because it needs to be all wrapped up the week before the prom election.”

Janelle slapped her forehead. “I almost forgot that there was an ulterior motive here. I actually thought we were doing this for the soup kitchen.”

“We are,” Megan said defensively.

“Yeah, right.” Janelle’s tone was still sarcastic.

“What difference does it make that the prom got us thinking about a fundraiser for the soup kitchen?” Chelsea asked. “The important thing is that we’re doing it. In fact, we should be grateful that Megan is running for prom queen because that’s why this is going to happen, right?”

“Right.” Lishia nodded.

“I guess.” Janelle made a resolute sigh.

“Back to the plans. I’ll see if we can have the event in the school cafeteria,” Megan said. “If that doesn’t work, I’m sure the church will let us do it there, although that won’t hold as many people.” She made some notes. “But my biggest question is, where do we get stuff for the silent auction?” She looked at Chelsea.

“We invite people in the community to donate things,” Chelsea explained. “Like an artist might donate a painting. A restaurant could donate a meal. I’ll even ask my dad to donate some designer clothes or a gift certificate from his shops.”

“I can get into that,” Lishia said with enthusiasm.

“We’ll obviously want things with some value,” she continued. “And nothing used, unless it’s an antique or collectible.”

“It sounds like you’ve given this some serious thought,” Janelle told her.

“Before my mom died, she put on a silent auction fundraiser for a youth ministry in our area.”

“Do you have a specific plan for getting things donated?” Megan asked. “I mean, because you’re new in town, do you know enough people to approach? It seems like it might take a lot of begging and coercing to gather enough stuff for a real auction.”

“I’ll help her,” Janelle offered.

Megan jotted this in her notes. “Okay, then. Chelsea and Janelle will handle the silent auction and stone soup. Lishia will check on the handmade bowls. I’ll find a location and decide on a date. Now we need to make a plan for getting the word out.”

“I can design the posters,” Chelsea said.

“I can ask my aunt about putting some ads on the radio,” Janelle offered. “She manages a Christian radio station. Maybe they’ll want to donate the time since it’s for such a good cause.”

“And I’ll check out getting something on television and in the newspaper,” Megan said.

They went over a few more details, and then Megan switched gears by bringing up her prom queen campaign. “My little sister and her friend volunteered to make buttons for me,” she told them. “But I don’t have a slogan yet.”

“That reminds me, I just put together some layouts for your prom queen posters last night,” Chelsea said. “And I already loaded some of the photos from Saturday. I think they look awesome, but you’ll need to check them out.”

“I can’t wait to see.”

“I’ll bring my laptop to school tomorrow,” Chelsea promised. “Maybe we can use some of the elements on your buttons too.”

“Very cool.” Megan paused to sip her mocha and check her list. “How’s the social media coming, Janelle?”

“I set up a Facebook page for you. It’s called ‘Kings Queen Megan.’”

“Kings Queen Megan?”

“Kings for Kingston, you know. It was the best I could do.” Janelle pointed to Chelsea. “Maybe you can load some of those photos onto it. I’ll send you the password.”

Megan beamed at them. “You guys are all awesome. I really appreciate your help. And just so you know, I’m recruiting some others to help too. In fact, Dayton Moore even offered his assistance.”

“Dayton?” Chelsea looked surprised.

“What on earth is Dayton going to do?” Janelle demanded.

“I read that a successful prom queen recruits a wide variety of volunteers. You broaden your base by having kids from all walks involved.”

“And Dayton
offered
to help?” Chelsea still looked doubtful.

“Actually he offered in return for me helping him with an essay. Favor for a favor.”

“That reminds me.” Janelle narrowed her eyes. “I just overheard Dayton’s ex-girlfriend telling someone that she plans to make a run for the crown too.”

“Riley Atkins?” Megan asked.

“Not that ex,” Janelle told her.

“Oh, you mean Amanda.”

“No, not that ex either.” Janelle laughed. “I wonder if there will ever be an ex club for all the girls Dayton has gone out with during high school. Anyway, I’m talking about his latest ex, Hallie Bennett.”

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot her. They didn’t go out for long. Hallie is running for prom queen?” Megan frowned. Hallie was not one of Megan’s favorite people. Not even close. The girl had been acting superior for years. Seriously, she was usually a total snob to anyone not in her tight circle of friends. But she was also very, very pretty.

Janelle nodded grimly.

“It figures.” Lishia shook her head.

Janelle turned to Megan. “To be honest, I was never that into this whole prom queen campaign. But when I heard Hallie saying that, well, I decided that I’d be really glad to see you beat her.”

“Me too,” Lishia said with enthusiasm. “No way can we
let Hallie win this thing. I’ll do everything I can to help you, Megan.”

“What’s the deal with Hallie?” Chelsea asked Lishia. “You guys sound like you really hate her.”

“Hate is a strong word,” Megan said carefully.

Lishia sighed. “I know, and I’ve really tried to forgive her. But sometimes I just . . . well, anyway, I just hope she’s not prom queen.”

“What did Hallie
do
?” Chelsea asked curiously.

“You mean besides being stuck-up and mean?” Janelle pointed to Lishia now. “Let’s just say that Hallie and Lishia go way back.”

“Huh?” Chelsea was clearly confused. “Way back to when?”

“To grade school,” Janelle said.

“Yeah,” Megan added. “It was a really bad slumber party in fourth grade.”

“Please, don’t remind me.” Lishia rolled her eyes. “Or I might forget I’m a Christian and start hating her all over again.”

“Now I’m really curious.” Chelsea looked hopefully at them. “I’ve told you guys some of my bad grade-school stories.”

“Trust me, none of your stories are as bad as this one,” Lishia assured her.

“Come on,” Chelsea urged.

“It has to do with a bowl of water,” Janelle said quietly to Chelsea. “Lishia was the first girl to go to sleep.”

“I had a kidney problem as a kid,” Lishia said with irritation.

“Hallie took a photo with her phone and posted it on MySpace for everyone to see,” Megan added.

“Get the picture?” Janelle asked.

Chelsea gave Lishia a sympathetic sideways hug. “Very mean.”

“Anyway, this might actually be good news about Hallie running,” Megan said suddenly.

“How’s that?” Chelsea asked.

“It might help to split the vote between Amanda and her. Those girls are in the same clique.” Megan drew a circle and divided it in half, then divided one half into quarters, writing Hallie and Amanda in the quarter pieces and her name in the half. “See, I might get the rest of the votes.”

Janelle laughed. “That seems overly simplistic to me.”

“It might work.” Megan closed her notebook and pulled out a couple of pages she’d printed from an online site. One showed chocolate bars that could be packaged with her name and photo on them. The other page was for pencils and pens with her name on them. “I was thinking about ordering something to give to voters,” she explained. “Candy bars seem like a no-brainer since most people like chocolate. Except that the wrappers with my name on them get thrown away. On the other hand, pens and pencils would stick around for a while. Every time a voter pulled my pen or pencil out, they’d see my name.”

“Isn’t this stuff expensive?” Lishia peered at the photos.

“It’s an investment,” Megan told her.

“An investment?” Janelle looked dubious.

“I read that things like this can help with college applications.” Realizing it was past time to pick up Arianna, Megan started putting things back into her bag.

“But you were already accepted at your college,” Lishia pointed out.

“I know.” Megan stood. “But I haven’t heard back on scholarships yet. If I win prom queen, it might help to secure some college money.”

“That seems a little far-fetched,” Janelle said. “But I vote for the candy. Even if they do throw away the wrapper, at least it might leave a good taste in their mouths.” She laughed.

“Unless the chocolate’s no good.” Lishia tossed her empty coffee cup in the trash.

Note to self
, Megan thought as they all went outside.
See if the candy company will send a sample of chocolate.

M
egan had only been eighteen for a couple months, but as she tapped into her college savings for prom queen expenses, she reminded herself that she was old enough to vote, which suggested that some considered her an adult. Convinced that she was in charge of her destiny and that these expenses were a solid investment in her future, she decided to order the Big Bonus Pack of chocolate bars.

Besides, she reminded herself as she typed her order, some of her college money was from past summer jobs. Really, it was her money. Right? However, when she hit “accept” on the charges being made to her bank account, she felt slightly guilty. Perhaps if Mom had been home, Megan might’ve asked for advice. But Mom always said, at least since the divorce, that her girls needed to be strong and independent and able to make smart decisions for themselves. Wasn’t that precisely what Megan was doing?

While online, Megan decided to order some button-making
supplies, and eventually she began browsing prom dresses and shoes—just to get ideas, since she planned to go shopping in real stores once she lost a few pounds.

Of course, it wasn’t until two hours later, when Mom came home from work with Chinese takeout for dinner, that Megan realized how much time had passed. She also realized that she still had unfinished homework to complete.

“What’s your hurry?” Mom asked after Megan had wolfed down her chow mein and egg foo yong and excused herself.

“Homework,” Megan explained as she put her plate in the dishwasher. Actually, she was relieved to get away before Mom or Arianna asked her how the prom queen campaign was going. She didn’t want to have to tell them about her chocolate bar order, and she didn’t want to lie. “Thanks for bringing home Chinese,” she called as she headed back to her room.

For the next several days, Megan felt like she was in prom queen campaign overdrive. So much needed to be done in order to get the fundraiser night on track. But at least Bethany Bridgewater had come through, confirming that her song and dance group was happy to perform if the date didn’t conflict with another engagement. And then, after several tries, Megan was able to schedule the school cafeteria for her fundraiser—and it was on a night when Joyful Sound was available. So far so good.

“That’s wonderful that you want to help the soup kitchen,” Mrs. VanDrees told Megan after they secured the date. “It’s
refreshing to see students who are interested in helping others—simply for the satisfaction of giving.”

Without going into all the details, Megan explained how she and her friends had volunteered at the soup kitchen. “It seemed like a lot of needy people really appreciated getting a hot meal.”

“Well, I’m so impressed by your philanthropy that I’m going to ask my husband to provide a sculpture for your silent auction.”

“A sculpture?”

Mrs. VanDrees jotted something on a notepad. “My husband is an artist. He works primarily in bronze. I’ll see if he has something he wouldn’t mind donating.”

Megan thanked her, and then Mrs. VanDrees even offered to ask some of her other friends as well. Megan thanked her again. But as Megan walked to the library, she felt a conflicting mix of emotions. On one hand, she was pleased and proud at her success. On the other hand, she felt guilty. Mrs. VanDrees was completely unaware that Megan planned to run for prom queen. Would she suspect Megan’s motives once she found out? Or shouldn’t she be used to that sort of thing by now? After all, the school had lots of fundraisers with prizes attached. What was new about that?

Besides, Megan didn’t have time to worry about that. Today was the first day of the book club she’d organized. It was her way of connecting with a new group of students. She’d put the announcement on the school’s website last week, and to her surprise, nine students had responded. She had no idea what to expect but tried not to show her disappointment when she discovered a motley-looking group of somewhat mousy
girls waiting for her to join them. Of course, she shouldn’t have been too surprised that only female readers showed up (since her book choice was a recently released chick book), but these girls did not look like the kinds of students who could wield much influence in garnering votes for her election.

“Hi, I’m Megan Bernard,” she said cheerfully as she sat down with her book in hand. She’d barely managed to finish it, and only after staying up past midnight, but at least it was still fresh in her mind. She started by asking the girls to introduce themselves. Most of them were younger than her, but, she reminded herself, a vote was a vote—and she was here to win theirs. She started out by talking about what she’d liked about the book, going on for several minutes. Then she paused to see if anyone else wanted to make a comment, but when no one said a word, she continued. This time she talked about what she did not like.

“Excuse me.” An overweight girl named Brianna frowned at her. “Have you ever
led
a book group before?”

Megan laid her book in her lap. “Not really.”

Now the other girls in the group exchanged glances. Almost like they knew something Megan did not.

“Do you even know
how
to lead a book group?” another girl asked.

Megan shrugged. “Don’t we just talk about the book?”

“Yes . . . and no.”

“Usually,
everyone
gets a chance to talk about the book,” Brianna told her.

“Oh . . .” Megan nodded.

“Just because you’re the leader doesn’t mean you get to lecture us,” someone else said.

“Uh, right.” Megan made a forced smile. “I guess I was just waiting for you all to jump in.”

Brianna held up her book, opening it to the back and pointing to a page. “Didn’t you see the discussion questions?”

“Discussion questions?”

“Have you ever even been in a book group?” a brown-haired girl asked.

“Well, no, but I—”

“Then why did you offer to lead one?” the brown-haired girl demanded.

Megan didn’t know what to say, but now others were expressing themselves, and all with one thing in mind—questioning why Megan felt qualified to do this.

“Give her a break,” Brianna said finally.

“I’m sorry,” Megan told them. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I just wanted to start a book group. I had no idea there were rules and—”

“It’s not that there are rules,” Brianna explained. “More like expectations.”

Megan flipped to the back of her book now. “Should we go ahead and do the discussion questions?”

To her relief, the girls agreed this was a good plan. Then, one by one, they all took their time (lots and lots of time) to answer each one of the fifteen questions. Megan considered excusing herself before they were done, explaining she had to pick up her little sister, but instead she texted Arianna that she was running late. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Arianna texted back that she’d already gotten a ride home with a friend. It was after five by the time Megan finally peeled herself away from the book group. And only after they’d decided
what next week’s book would be. Of course, that meant that she was committed to show up here next Wednesday. Did these girls actually read a book a week?

As Megan drove home, she wondered how she could drop out of this pathetic little book group. However, she realized that a prom queen probably wouldn’t do something like that. For now, she might as well go with the flow, maybe even fake that she’d read the upcoming book. Perhaps she could find something online to help her. Even so, it seemed like a lot of work for just nine measly votes . . . unless these girls became so loyal to her that they actually influenced their friends to vote for her too. That is, if they had friends.

Megan did a mental countdown of the time remaining until the prom queen election as she drove home. Four weeks. Most importantly, she had to get the fundraiser event solidly launched—this meant getting advertising and publicity started by the end of the week. And second most importantly, she had just one week to secure the nomination for prom queen. She knew she could count on her friends to nominate her, but it would take a few other nominations as well. Then the official campaigning would begin three weeks before the election.

She was just parking in front of the house when her cell phone rang. To her surprise it was Belinda. “Mom just told me the news,” Belinda said in an unimpressed tone.

“The news?” Megan decided to play dumb.

“That you are actually going to make a run for the crown. Is it true?”

Megan removed her key from the ignition and stared up at the plastic gold heart that was still swaying back and forth, the tiny words “I Believe” barely readable.

“Well, is it?”

“Yeah.” Megan grabbed her bag and got out of the car, holding her phone away from her ear as the loud shrieks of her older sister’s laughter blasted through the phone. Megan was tempted to hang up as she went into the house.

“Are you still there?” Belinda demanded.

“What do you want?” Megan asked as she dumped her bag on her bed.

“I just wanted to know if it’s really true.” She chuckled.

“Yeah . . . I guess.” Megan knew Pastor Robbie wouldn’t approve of that response.

Belinda laughed loudly again. “I needed a little pick-me-up today, Meggie. Thanks for providing it!”

“Glad I could be of help!”

“Don’t get mad at me, Megan. You’re the one who needs to get her head examined.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Come on, Megan. You know this is totally crazy. Why on earth are you doing this?”

“It’s not crazy.” Megan sank down onto her desk chair, trying to remember words from
Shower of Power
.

“Listen, I’m your big sister, and I don’t want to see you get hurt, okay?”

“I’m not going to get hurt.”

“You
will
get hurt. Trust me—I know what I’m talking about. Running for prom queen is not for the faint of heart.”

“My heart isn’t faint.”

“It’s a brutal race, Megan. I know you. And you are simply not cut out for that kind of thing.”

Megan let down her guard and actually told Belinda about
what she’d done so far. She explained how her friends were all helping, how she was planning a fundraiser, and how she had even started a book group.

“I already ordered chocolate bars with ‘Vote for Megan Bernard’ printed on the wrappers.”

“Oh, Megan!” Belinda sounded truly concerned now.

“What?”

“They just say ‘Vote for Megan Bernard’? That’s all? You didn’t even come up with a slogan first?”

“There was a limit on letters.”

“Even so, you could’ve done better than ‘Vote for Megan Bernard.’ Good grief! Why didn’t you check with me first?”

“I had to place the order if I wanted them to arrive in time for the election.”

“But you should’ve used a slogan. Remember ‘Believe in Belinda’? It was catchy and inspiring.”

“Yeah, right.” Megan kept her opinion to herself.

“Well, it helped win me the crown.”

“Maybe so. But I haven’t been able to come up with a slogan,” Megan admitted.

“Let’s see . . . how about ‘Make It with Megan’?” She laughed. “No, that sounds a little disrespectable.”

“Great, just what I need.”

“Okay, what rhymes with Megan? How about ‘Beggin’ for Megan’?”

“No thanks.”

“Well, I’ll give it some thought. Now, you said you ordered candy bars, but did you already choose your campaign colors?”

“Campaign colors?” Megan sighed.

“You know, to coordinate everything. Remember, my colors
were pink and black last year. I had them on my buttons and posters and everything. It was a very classic campaign.”

Megan opened her laptop and pulled up one of the posters that Chelsea had made for her. “How about purple and teal?”

“
Purple and teal?
You’ve got to be kidding.”

“A friend is helping with posters,” she explained.

“But purple and teal?”

“That’s just one of the layout choices.”

“Why don’t you email them to me? I’ll look them over and come up with some suggestions.”

Megan felt somewhat flattered by this unexpected interest and attention, but at the same time she felt slightly insulted too. Did Belinda really think Megan was incapable of running her own campaign?

“That is, unless you think you don’t need my help . . .”

“No, no, I probably do need your help,” Megan admitted. “I’ll send the posters to you right now. I appreciate any recommendations you might have.”

“See, already you’re sounding more like a prom queen.”

“I’m trying.”

“And who knows, you just might be able to pull this off. I remember when I was a freshman and Patty Pringle was elected prom queen.”

“Patty Pringle?”

“She was this loser chick, but she ran a really slick campaign and somehow she won.” She giggled. “Of course, a bunch of kids boycotted prom that year. But it just goes to show you that anyone can win—if you just put your mind to it.”

“Right.” Megan wasn’t sure whether to feel hopeful or hurt.

“I’m coming home this weekend,” Belinda said. “Maybe I can spend some time coaching you.”

“Okay.” Megan brightened. “That would probably be helpful.”