There's a Rebel in My Bed! [✓]

22. The Incredibly Strange Mind of Teenage Boys

                                  There’s A Rebel In My Bed!

            Chapter 22 – The Incredibly Strange Mind of Teenage Boys

             Song of The Chapter: Taxi Cab by Vampire Weekend (2010)

 

This chapter is the most fun I have had writing this story in a very long time. No angst, just pure, magical fun. VOTE and COMMENT if you enjoyed it. And Happy belated birthday to you!

 

 

 

“So what do we know?”

Kimmy pulled out a binder from her backpack (that she always carried in the front of her instead of actually on her back) that was labeled ‘EVAN 2012’ in big and bold green marker. “We know,” she said, as she flipped the cover over and started to skim through a few pages, “that Allen is planning on releasing an attack ad today over the intercom system at lunch time.”

It was just the first day of what the school call “Decision 2012 Week, when school activities usually centered around the Politic Race for Student Body President and Council. Monday, I was told, was always the most demanding and tiresome of the week because everyone wanted to get a head start in the race.  It seemed it was true, because Allen had already started his puppet games. “How is he getting all these connections?”

“He’s got the Chess Club behind him. The chest club’s president is the secretary’s son, who in turn, is having an affair with the Principal Assistant, Yolanda.” I blinked and she gave me a knowing look as we continued to speed walk down the hall. “I know, I’d watched that too. The point is, he’s got some serious connections that we don’t have.”

“What about Jacob?” I asked. “He’s the star football player and Alex is his best friend.”

“Yes, but the only connection they have to anything is an open field and a coach that would rather leer at cheerleaders than rally support.” She explained spitting distaste as she did so. “Besides, I’d be surprised if any of those Neanderthals even knew how voting works.” She snorted, but recoiled once she noticed what she said. “Not that Jacob’s an idiot or anything.” She quickly said, eyeing me and the floor. “Though you have to admit, some of those kids have the mental capacity of a bowl of rice.”

“That’s offensive.”

“Like Alex.”

 “Point taken.” I conceded as she came to a halt before she entered a room labeled, ‘Evan HQ’ in neat hand writing in a shade of blue.

She opened the door into the room – Chris’ homeroom – that was also a ninth grade Mathematics room most of the time. But today, when I entered, it was once my headquarters. Inside the yellow, four walled room were at least thirty kids, all running around with stacks of papers in their hands; shouting teenagers who were at the photocopier in the front of the room, near the green tinged board, just a feet away from the teacher’s desk.

There were papers on the wall that covered various trigonometry rules and steps. Some had my face on it, other had Allen’s with big, red Xs through them. It was amazing to behold. The desks were still lined in front of the teacher’s desk – five rows – but they held a student at every desk, writing or typing away; discussing with others plans, or the other.

But in the center of the madness, there stood one person. Standing high on a chair, observing the raucous with a clipboard in her hands. Her brunette hair pinned behind her ear with some pink flower broach that matched her shirt and went decent enough with her blue jeans. “Hey you!” she shouted, pointing to one of the kids the back that had a cookie in her mouth while she typed, “No eating! No one takes a bite of any cookies until Evan is Student Body President!”