Dani beams even more when she sees Kayla wearing the hones-tea button. “How did you like your first meeting? I’m so excited that we’re only eight members away from our goal of ten members at Honesty Club!”
“… So you have two members?” I clarify.
Her head bobs along. “Only eight away!”
Makes sense. You probably have to be a bit delusional to be a politician.
“Have fun,” I mutter, going back to my Bible research. For some reason, Dani interprets this asPlease interrupt me and join our table.
She pulls out the student handbook and puts it on top of my Bible—which I’m pretty sure is frowned upon in many religions. “I’m actually here for non-Honesty-Club-related business.”
“Dani, whatever it is, I’m not joining.”
“I’m just asking for your opinion.” Dani flips through the handbook to a section bookmarked with apromtab.
I gawk at the page. “There’s really a whole chapter for prom?”
“As student council president…,” Dani starts, and I let out a groan. She always introduces herself as student council president whenever she’s pitching something.
“In recent years, worldwide research has shown that teenagers have been exhibiting elevated levels of stress,” Dani continues her spiel. “And one possible cause? Prom!”
There are probably a million researchers worldwide clamoring to dispute this claim.
“It’s bad enough that we have to think of paying for dinner,getting a dress, but then we have to think about the stress of finding a date—at an all-girls school!” she declares. “So to make this a smooth transition for everyone, we, your friends at the Saint Agnes Student Council, have made it a mandate to encourage the smooth search for appropriate prom companions.”
I wonder how long Dani can ramble on for without noticing I’ve completely zoned out. Each time she mentions prom, I think about another dreadful thing I’d rather do than show up on prom night. Eat the expired Buns by Beth pastries we usually throw out, sit through one of Achi’s long rants about meditation, join Kayla for the next Honesty Club meeting.
Then Dani says, “That’s why I appointed Nika as head of the committee.”
Now,thatgot my attention.
Kayla and I burst out laughing. “Out of all the jokes you try inserting in your speeches,thisis by far your funniest one,” I say.
Dani keeps pushing the joke. “I really think you’d be an exemplary leader.”
“Exemplary leader?” Kayla and I echo, then laugh even harder. “Ky, did I ever tell you it was my dream to be prom committee head?”
“I’m still processing the breaking news that you’re an exemplary leader,” Kayla teases back.
Dani beams at us. “Super love the enthusiasm!”
Our laughs die down and Dani is still very convincing… a littletooconvincing.
“You’re not serious,” I tell her.
“Why would I ask if I wasn’t serious?” She reads out another bullet point in the handbook. “As student council president, the elected representative must encourage participation fromallmembers of Saint Agnes.”
“Then please discourage my participation,” I say. “There are a dozen other girls who’d want to be prom committee head.”
Dani chuckles. “I’m not making you head of the whole committee, Nika! That’s a responsibility that needs years of experience. You’re head of the PCS.”
I stare blankly at Dani and she explains, “Prom-Companion Subcommittee. You’re in charge of finding people dates.
“Consider it a feminist movement,” Dani says.
One of my biggest icks about Dani: her new vocabulary. Ever since we covered social justice in class, Dani has been obsessed with inserting the terminology in every sentence.
When the juniors and seniors agreed to a tie during our volleyball intrams, Dani made a speech about how we “trumped classism.” When the dance troupe members started calling one another sis, Dani called them out and said, “We shouldn’t be cisgendering people.”
