Saint Joseph School

Nigel could barely hear a word the teacher was saying. He was so nervous and jittery, he could barely concentrate on anything for more than two seconds. Fortunately, Mr. Norris seemed to be cutting him some slack and not directing any questions his way.

The entire week had been insane, really. First he was run ragged in practice, then run even more ragged trying to influence the election. Nigel had lost track of how many deals he'd brokered and promises he'd made. First to get Kara onto the Homecoming Court, and then to make sure she got enough votes to not be embarrassed in the race for Homecoming Queen.

He still expected Brianna to win, of course. She was fairly new at Saint Joe's, but he still expected her to somehow pull it off. Judging by the number of people she had running around campaigning on her behalf, the job was half-way done already. Even Maureen was supporting Brianna, which was a bit of a shock. Must be some kind of cheerleader politics at work there.

Stephen was going to have a tougher time of it trying to beat out Bryan. Everybody loved Bryan, but Stephen was still largely unknown at Saint Joe's. Nigel was on the ballot himself, but he wasn't expecting to win. Still, he'd done what he could to at least make a good showing.

"Thank god for Mighty Mart and their post-Halloween clearance sale. That reminds me, I'd better pick up another bulk bag of peanut butter cups during my third period spare..."

Mojo sat at the lunch table in utter bless. He sang to himself in his high pitched voice, stopping at the end of each verse to stuff hi mouth full of heart shaped candies and a peanut butter cup.

After the next verse we took a huge gulp of the, now cold, coco. The surface of the liquid littered with possibly hundreds of tiny sugary marshmallows.

"No!" the little primate cried as he spilled some of the precious drink on to his slightly too large t-shirt. In a moment of brilliance, he took off one of the half a dozen buttons he had managed to obtain. Then positioned it over the dark chocolate stain.

Proud of his own genius, Mojo grinned from ear to ear. Stuffing his face with another handful of free candy, he hoped up from the bench and scampered off to see what other goodies he could get his little paws on.

Joni gave the corkboard a confused look.

She still didn't really understand what had been going on the other day with Stasi. She was fairly certain that yes, Stasi was nominated for Homecoming, but also that Stasi was extremely annoyed that she was listed as "Tara." From there things got fuzzy. Joni wasn't sure if "Tara" was in fact NOT Stasi's real name (some sort of clerical error in the yearbook?) or if Stasi just hated being called by it (that Joni could understand a bit better; she didn't like "Jonina" either), but when she had asked for details, Stasi had clammed up.

And gotten downright irritated, in fact. Which was Joni's cue to back down and apologize gratuitously.

Stasi had then said she would correct the corkboard. Well, the yearbook picture was gone, but the list itself still stated that the second candidate for Queen was "Tara Grey." Huh. Joni dug around in her backpack for a pen.

A minute later "Tara Grey" had been obliterated and replaced with "Stasis Kiss" in careful handwriting. If Stasi didn't want to be known as "Tara," who was Joni to argue?

Aeon couldn't help herself. She had cradled the little tissue-wrapped package and approximated the "new candy thermometer dance." And now, with scorched fingertips and a skirt soaked with spilled peppermint oil, she carried a small plate in its festive blue cellophane bag back to her quad. As expected, everyone was gone, busy in midterm exams or partying or canvasing or something. She placed the package on Stasis' bed and quickly scribbled a note in tight cursive.



Stasi,

I know you're having a rough time with this homecoming thing, so I made you a present. They're peppermint rock candy "ice cubes." You can give them to your friends like everyone else is doing, or if you don't want to be queen, you can eat them all yourself. Either way, I hope they at least make you smile.

Thinking of you,
Violet

Mal shuffled down the hallways, finding it difficult to navigate, as usual.

He had hoped he had gotten the school colors right this time. Last time he had gotten his armor painted in "School Colors", he had gotten a few snide remarks that they definitely WEREN'T....that was a really embarassing day out of the many he had already had since he had gotten here.

One of the baseball players whose name Mal didn't know walked by and smacked him on the back of the head. "Wrong colors, dumbass!"

Mal looked at the clock. 7:45 am.

This was going to be a loooong day.

Kierin glanced at the board as she walked past, then paused, looking closer at the list of candidates. She frowned for a moment in confusion, then smiled before continuing on her way.