Page 10 of Something Rad
“And I can’t say I totally disagree with him.”
My eyes snap back into focus.
“What?” I say, not sure I heard Mr. Hughes correctly.
“I can’t say I totally disagree with Principal Whileyman,” he repeats, confirming my fear.
My lips part, but no words make their way out.
“The student body president does tend to be the most involved person in school. They’re the face of Bay View High in a lot of ways. I think it makes sense for them to have the final say on how their class year is documented and remembered by the students.”
I stare at Mr. Hughes for a long time. “Okay,” I finally say. I quickly push myself up and out of my seat and grab my things. “It was nice talking to you. See you tomorrow,” I mutter over my shoulder as I start to walk away.
“Sara, wait,” Mr. Hughes calls.
I turn back to him, trying to contain my composure as I raise my brows. “Yes?”
“Did you hear me?” he asks.
“Um, I believe so? And I just had my hearing checked over the summer, so,” I say, with more attitude than I probably should towards a teacher. I can’t help it though. I’ve worked so hard for this. Mr. Hughesknowshow hard I’ve worked for this.
“What did I say?” Mr. Hughes questions me.
My brows pinch in both irritation and confusion. “You said you agree with Principal Whileyman. That the student body president should also be the yearbook editor. I heard you, Mr. Hughes. Now, I’d like to go to lunch.” I start to turn away again, but don’t even make it the full rotation before Mr. Hughes speaks again.
“I also said that I know you should be the editor.”
I stare at him, shaking my head. “But…that couldn’t happen.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Because…I’d have to be the student body president.”
Mr. Hughes’s graying brows raise, a smile pulling at his lips. “And?”
My shoulders drop. “What?You can’t be serious, Mr. Hughes.”
“I can’t outright choose you as the yearbook editor, but Principal Whileyman didn’t say anything about not encouraging my top choice of editor to run for the position.”
I shake my head, trying to process. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“You should run for student body president, Sara. And take the yearbook editor position you want and know you deserve.”
I let out a groan, shaking my head as I approach Mr. Hughes’s desk. “Mr. Hughes, that’s insane.”
“Why?”
“I would never win. You know that.”
“I don’t know anything,” he says, mocking my same tone I used earlier when I said I had no thoughts in my head.
“It’s just a popularity contest,” I say. “That’s how it is every year.”
“Well,” Mr. Hughes says, shrugging his shoulders. “Make this year different.”
My mouth clamps shut as I stare back at Mr. Hughes, at a loss for words.
“Listen, Sara,” he says, a sad smile on his face. “I checked with Principal Whileyman. Class elections will be happening the Friday before Homecoming. That’s six weeks from now. You have plenty of time to campaign before then. If you’re worried about it being a popularity contest, try putting yourself out there. There’s a pep rally this Friday. Are you going?”
