Speak Up Chapter 17
Wade stared at me for a few seconds, his expression suddenly serious.
“I’ll make your campaign posters.”
“Your design skills…”
“What’s wrong with my design skills?” He sat up straight. “I’m a great artist.”
I said nothing.
The campaign speeches were scheduled for the next schoolwide assembly.
The night before, I practiced my speech in front of the mirror seventeen times.
Each time, I got stuck on the third sentence.
Then my phone buzzed.
Wade had sent me a photo.
It was a campaign poster he had made with colored markers.
In the center was a line of crooked, wobbly letters.
“Vote Fair. Vote Bianca.”
Underneath was a stick figure giving a thumbs-up.
It was hideous.
I stared at the poster for a few seconds and, suddenly, I wasn’t quite so nervous.
The next day, the gym was packed.
I stood backstage, my palms slick with sweat.
The moment I walked onto the stage, the gym went quiet, then broke into scattered whispers.
“Bianca’s actually running?”
“Doesn’t she, like, never speak in public?”
“The Ice Queen is giving a speech? This I gotta hear.”
My first sentence caught in my throat.
The murmurs grew louder.
“Why isn’t she talking?”
“Did she freeze up?”
The speech in my hand was crumpled from my grip.