The School President of the United States (Chapter 5)

The girls waited for Madeline in the cafeteria after hearing big news. They stood up by their table and looked at the door. It took only two minutes for Madeline enter after the girls did. Once they saw her and she was close enough, Lizzie threw out a long, purple streamer that was restricted in her hand over Madeline's shoulder.

"Surprise!" she shouted.

Skye blew into a paper horn that she held which produced a tooting noise.

"Ready?" Lizzie asked the girls. "One, two, three..."

The girls started to sing in almost perfect unison:

Oh, for she's a jolly good fellow

For she's a jolly good fellow

For she's a jolly good fellow...

Which nobody can deny

Except for the people who don't like her

They might deny that

But it's okay because we like her

Madeline snickered a bit. "I see you heard the news."

"Of course, Maddie," said Lizzie, walking up to Madeline. "Or should I say Laguna Beach High's student body president of 2014?"

"Congradulations!" squealed Debra.

Lizzie hugged Madeline.

"Thank you," smiled Madeline.

Once Lizzie released her, the girls sat down at their table.

"Oh, what's it like to be president, President Maddie?" asked Andrea.

"It puts a sweet taste in my mouth. It's sugary, delightful and totally kicks butt!"

"I made you a tiara," said Lizzie, picking up a paper crown decorated in marker that rested on the table.

"Lizzie, I'm president, not princess," Madeline shook her head. The she paused. "But give me that." She swiped the crown and placed it on her fair-haired head.

"I made it in art class."

"When?" asked Skye. "In kindergarten?"

Lizzie wasn't fazed; she giggled it off.

"Thank you, Lizzie," said Madeline. "Just thank you, all of you."

"We believed in you," started Debra, "but truthfully, we had no idea you'd win."

"I had no idea either."

"Maybe people really liked what you said," guessed Andrea.

"I don't even remember what I said. But it was obviously awesome."

"Chrissy and A.J. didn't have a chance anyway," remarked Skye. "They were...them. You were you. You were real."

"I still can't believe that they did all those things to you," said Lizzie, leaning down.

"Well, I didn't have to report those things because I would've won anyway," Madeline responded.

"Speaking of the devil," Andrea said softly, leaning back and seeing Chrissy and A.J. walking together towards their table.

"We were talking about devils?" questioned Lizzie.

"No, I meant they're coming."

Madeline spun out of her seat and stood up to face Chrissy and A.J. at their level.

"Hello, Shia LeBouf," greeted Chrissy with a devilish voice.

A.J. waved.

"Hello, Jekyll and Hyde," Madeline replied.

"We want to say we're sorry," said Chrissy more sincerely.

"I'm more sorry," A.J. cut in.

"We didn't mean to draw on you with marker."

"Or fling oatmeal in your face."

"Or hot glue your pencil pouch shut."

"Or walk you into a door with a water bucket on top of it."

"Nevertheless, we're sorry."

"Yeah, you know what they say: 'Let the best man win'. And obviously, at the end of the day, the best man won."

"Well, thank you for calling me a man," smirked Madeline.

"I didn't mean it that way."

"Listen, Maddie," Chrissy took a step closer, "we let the wonders of leadership get inside our heads, especially me. Can you forgive me? Can we go back to being friends and debate club members?"

Madeline looked up at the ceiling to think, but she knew her answer. "Of course," she answered after a pause.

Chrissy grinned then hugged Madeline who hugged her back. A.J. broke the five second long hug by softly pushing Chrissy away on her chest.

"Since you forgive her, I assume you forgive me," he supposed. "I'm not going to be a dog and ask for a hug so I would like to ask for a handshake."

Madeline shrugged. "Of course."

A.J. put out his hand so Madeline can grab it and shake it.

"I'm so glad we're on good terms," she started, "because now things can go back to normal and we--"

Madeline stopped talking when she saw A.J. start to lean forward with his eyes closed and lips puckered. She leaned back so her face would not touch his face.

"What are you doing?" she asked, disgusted.

A.J. opened his eyes and stood up straight. "I thought you were going to kiss me."

Madeline let go of his hand. "I was talking. No!"

"I'm sorry, do you have a boyfriend?"

"No!"

"So that means I have a chance?"

"No!"

"I'm going to leave now."

"Yes!"

A.J. looked down and spun ninety degrees before walking far away from Madeline's table.

"I love your crown," Chrissy complimented. "So eighties!"

The School President of the United States (Chapter 4)

Weeks had passed and finally, the day was here: election day. Madeline avoided as many obstacles as she could, regarding her fellow candidates who showed their true colors to her. She was relieved to make it out alive. Now students, including Madeline's best friend, came to the auditorium to see the three candidates debate on stage.

An older gentleman walked across the stage, making the clamoring teenagers silence. "Hello, Laguna Beach High," he declared into his microphone. "Welcome to the student body election of 2014. I am Mister Huffington and I am here to present the competitors for office: Chrissy Walker, A.J. Hart, and Madeline King."

The three walked out on stage towards their own podiums. Before they stood behind the podiums, Chrissy and A.J. walked out looking confident followed by Madeline whose clothes were drenched along with her hair and face.

"Miss King, why are you wet?" asked Huffington, who turned around to look at the candidates.

"It's a long story," Madeline awkwardly giggled, standing before her podium.

"Well, then, let the games begin. So, nominees, you are going to explain why do you believe that you should be elected for student body president. Take as much time as you need as the students here will be voting. Commence speeches."

Mister Huffington walked off the stage to leave the candidates by themselves and let the witnessing students from the seats have a better view.

"Well, I think that I should be elected student body president," started Chrissy, "because the school needs people like me. I am academically successful so I would be mentally able to run the metaphorical office of Laguna Beach High School. I have many skills including ensembling a funky style." She motioned to her outfit of prints and patterns. "I feel it is important to have a leader with numerous skills because knowledge is needed everywhere. I am a member of the debate club so I know how to speak for the people. And I'm pretty and likeable so you must vote for me! Thank you."

"That was lame," A.J. commented. "I believe that I should be president because why not? I mean I never get D's or E's; I barely get B's and C's. I get A's all day, every day."

"I get A's, too."

"Yeah, like once a year. Anyway, you're going to need a president who is highly intelligent, someone who knows what they're doing. I was born to be a leader. I'm Barack Obama without the tan. When I look at all of you, I see bright futures. Well, not for all of you but some of you. But that's okay because I will make your future bright, brighter than the stars. I will make you remember me because how can you forget this face? Let my gorgeousness soak into you and get you a better life. You know you can't do it by yourself."

"Wow, way to sound pretentious, A.J."

"Like 'I'm pretty and likeable' didn't sound pretentious."

"Hey, it's true."

"Chrissy, that will be true once socks come to life and eat us."

"Boy, I will knock that Jon Hamm tie right off your neck."

"Please be courteous, nominees," requested Huffington.

"Sorry, Mister Huffington. I just want the students to feel close to me. I want to be their best friend who gives them fashion advice."

"The school doesn't need fashion advice," said A.J. "They need better cafeteria grub. Seriously, there is more juice on the pizza than there is in the cartons. Gross."

"But I love Greasy Pizza Fridays. I like to pretend to eat them so people can think I can eat whatever I want... not that I do that."

"Madeline, why are you so quiet over there?"

Madeline looked up.

"Yeah, Madeline, if you have something to say, say it," said Chrissy. "We're saying things."

"Okay," Madeline said before clearing her throat. "Hi," she uttered into the microphone. "I-- I, uh-- I believe... that I don't deserve to be president. I will tell you why: I'm not the right person for this position. I mean I get amazing grades and I have a big future planned ahead of me. But I'm just not ready; I don't get it. I don't get what responsibilities will be brought to me. It's always been my dream to be president for something and school president was actually a goal for me. But I'm not as perfect as you think I am. I lie and I freak out and there was a time I vomited all over Richard's bushes but I won't get into it. The point is that I try to use my 'hot girl' image to sell T-shirts and hang posters like a superstar. But I'm not and I need time to accept that. Don't get me wrong, I want to give you all the world. I want to inspire you, I want to give you hope, I want to make you feel important because we all are. But don't look up to me, look up to Chrissy or A.J. They made me realize that I was looking for a game to play which is not how life goes. I was prepared to make you all promises but instead, I should've been prepared to accept my soul before I let anyone look at me on the outside. It's the inside that matters. So I'm going to go so you can vote for a real student body president which is not me. Girls, can you please take me home?"

Madeline's girlfriends individually but instantly stood up from their seats and scooted out to walk in front of the stage. Madeline walked down the stairs on the side and was met by her friends.

"I'm sorry your dream's not going to come true, Madeline," confessed Debra.

"It's okay," said Madeline with a half-smile. "I have other dreams. Now can you take me to the dry cleaners? I want to ask the lady if they are willing to put me in the dryer."

The School President of the United States (Chapter 3)

Two days later, Madeline found success in her campaign. Many people were buying her shirts, taking her flyers, retrieving bracelets. The list went on and on and so far, Madeline thought she was doing a great job convincing others to look at her the way she wanted to be looked at.

She decided to stay late after school to participate in debate club. Once it was over, Madeline walked out into the hallways with her acquaintance and fellow candidate, Chrissy Walker.

"Did you see Samantha's outfit today?" asked Chrissy.

"Oh, yeah," Madeline replied. "It was so eighties."

"So eighties. It was like Grease."

"Grease took place in the sixties."

"But it was made in the eighties."

"No, it was made in the seventies."

"Don't correct me!"

"Sorry."

"But I love it."

"I loved it, too."

"So eighties."

"Eighties, man!"

The girls giggled until they stopped to see one of Madeline's posters which was hung up on an empty wall, vandalized. With black magic marker, Madeline's eyes were drawn with X's, a tongue stuck out her pink mouth and her face with stippled with supposedly pimples. Madeline stared at the poster with horror while Chrissy stared in shock.

"What the--?" Madeline started. She walked closer to the poster. "Who-- Who-- What?!"

"Oh, Madeline, that is so messed up," Chrissy commented.

"Why would... someone... draw over my poster like that?"

"Don't get upset, Maddie. Maybe this is the only poster that got ruined."

Madeline's eyes widened. She looked down the hall, realizing that she hung up another poster not too far from the poster in front of her. She speed-walked towards it with every detail slowly appearing before her eyes. She stopped an inch in front of the wall with Chrissy coming her way. The other poster was drawn over the same way as the first poster, except devil ears were drawn on Madeline's head and glasses were placed over her eyes.

"I didn't know the devil liked to read," stated Chrissy.

Madeline glared at Chrissy.

"You know because you're wearing reading-- Nevermind."

"I can't believe somebody would be so ignorant to do something like that," shared Madeline.

"Are you going to drop out from the campaign?"

"I don't know; people sure want me to but I had no idea. Oh, my, I'm gonna cry."

"You don't look like you're going to cry."

"Because it takes me a while!" Madeline later snatched Chrissy's olive-colored purse from her arm. "Do you have any tissues?" she asked while unzipping it.

"No, but I can get you some." Chrissy grabbed onto her purse. "No tissues in my bag."

After reaching into the purse, Madeline pulled out a black marker. She stared it down in confusion before staring down Chrissy in pure anger.

"Madeline, it's not what you think," Chrissy giggled nervously.

Madeline's face balled up in fury.

"Anybody can own a black magic marker that they can put in their purse. That doesn't mean anything, Madeline."

"My posters did not look like this when I went to debate club," Madeline growled. "Did you do this when you supposedly 'had to go to bathroom'?"

"No, I actually had to use the bathroom."

"Then why did it take you fifteen minutes to use it?"

"Explosive diarrhea?"

"Chrissy, I'm going to count to one--"

"Oh, come on."

"--and if you don't tell me the truth, I will--"

"Fine, I did it!"

"Why? Why would you scribble on my posters?"

"So you can drop out."

"What?!"

"Everybody likes you. You just have 'the package' that everyone is looking for. I find that unfair. In order for me to win this race, you're going to have to not be in it."

"Chrissy, we're friends. You can't betray me like this."

"Oh, yes, I can. Power over companionship. I'm hashtagging it!"

"No, you cannot hashtag that," Madeline threw the marker at Chrissy's chest. "You're playing dirty on purpose; it's not my fault that people like me."

"Oh, yes, it is. And you're abusing that fact to get what you want."

"Oh, I always get what I want but I don't abuse anything when I do!"

"Girls, girls," a teenage boy said, coming from almost nowhere, breaking the girls up. "What is going on?"

The boy wore a buttoned flannel shirt with burgundy glasses and held a small, green box with a silver ribbon.

"Chrissy is being an unfair candidate," replied Madeline. "She vandalized all of my posters."

"More like most of your posters," Chrissy corrected. "I tried to get them all but I didn't want to get caught."

"Anyway, she's trying to make me crack and forfeit the campaign. She needs to be prohibited, A.J."

"Chrissy, I don't believe you," A.J. said, walking up towards her. "How are you going to be president if you're dishonest? I shall report you to Mrs. Reuben or Mr. Burbank so they can enjoin you from the campaign."

Chrissy scoffed before looking down in what felt to be defeat.

A.J. turned around to face Madeline. "I'm so sorry, Madeline. If we're going to do this race, we're going to do this the clean way. Also, I brought you a gift." He held up the box to Madeline's chest level.

"Oh, thanks, A.J.," she smiled. "It's good to get along with someone who is not looking for a fight." She flipped off the lid of the box and unawaringly, a thick, beige substance shot out and hit Madeline directly in the face.

A.J. and Chrissy laughed as Madeline dropped the box on the floor and wiped the matter from her mascara eyes.

"What is this?" Madeline almost screamed.

"Oatmeal," answered A.J. "Like my little 'Oatmeal in a Box' toy?"

"Did you get that from the prank store?" asked Chrissy.

"Yes, I surely did."

"Nice."

"A.J., what the heck?" Madeline screamed that time, flinging the oatmeal down on the floor.

"Two words: drop out," A.J. disclosed. "It's that simple."

"Wha-- You want me to drop out, too?"

"Hello! Yeah, I do. Do you realize how many people like you? Nope, not on my watch."

"Why am I being dogged on for being liked? Being liked is so easy!"

"Not easy for us," Chrissy jumped in.

"I was so excited to run for president," confessed A.J., "until I heard you, Madeline King, decided to sign up. I'd be glad to do this with anyone but you."

"I thought we were friends," stated Madeline with her voice turning high-pitched.

"Oh, we are and we still will be once me or Chrissy wins," said A.J.

"So you both are turning against me?"

Chrissy picked up her magic marker, popped off the cap and pointed the marker at Madeline like a sword. "What's your favorite color, punk?" she quoted.

A.J. picked up his box and put the lid back on, leering at Madeline with a smirk.

"Not black," Madeline responded before running away as fast as she could.

Chrissy and A.J. chased after her with their "weapons".

The School President of the United States (Chapter 2)

The week after, early in the morning, everything got set up to help with Madeline's campaign at Laguna Beach High. A stand was open for selling friendship bracelets; posters of Madeline were hung up on the walls; Skye's rock band settled their instruments outside in front of the entrance doors. As more teens came to school, Madeline handed out her stack of fliers to anyone trying to pass her by.

"Vote for me," she told one kid, "Madeline King. I beez in the trap." She handed out another flyer to a different kid. "Vote for me; I'm Madeline King. I beez in the trap."

Soon, she was approached by a positive Lizzie.

"Hello, candidate Maddie," she greeted.

"Well, hello, assistant Lizzie," Madeline greeted back.

Lizzie giggled. "I'm an assistant. How's your campaign going?"

"It's going sweet. Everybody is accepting my flyers and checking out my merchandise." Madeline passed out a flyer to another passing student. "I'm Madeline King," she told him. "Vote for me; I beez in the trap."

"What does 'beez in the trap' mean?" asked Lizzie.

"I don't know. But it's garnering lots of attention."

"You are so gonna win that election."

"I know. Have you seen my poster?"

Lizzie shook her head. Madeline motioned her a couple of feet towards a nearby bulletin. Over it was a high-definition poster of Madeline posing like a supermodel with the slogan in big purple letters, "Vote for Mads. She is rad!"

"Wow, you look like a rockstar," Lizzie commented. "Not one of those loud, dirty, drug-addicted rockstars. Like one of the simple rockstars. The rockstars for kids."

"Gee, thanks," Madeline looked up into space. Then her eyes illuminated with a reminder. "And speaking of rockstars..."

Madeline led Lizzie out of the school through the doors and showed her where Skye and her bandmates resided. Skye's band was performing a song on their instruments for arriving students with a hard rock noise. Skye sung melodically to the microphone on its stand:

Vote for Maddie, she's so cool

Vote for Maddie, she rules the school

Vote for Maddie, she's so cute

She can help everyone of you

Vote for Madeline King, King, King

You can kiss her ring, ring, ring

Aw, yeah

The students applauded the band when they finished effortlessly. Madeline and Lizzie entered the crowd and stood right in front of Skye.

"Very impressive, Skye," Madeline complimented.

"Thanks," Skye responded beside her microphone. "Oh, and Maddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Write better songs."

Madeline squinted her eyes at Skye. She then got over it and walked away with Lizzie.

"We don't get paid enough for this," said Sean, the rhythm guitarist.

"We don't get paid at all," added David, the lead guitarist, walking by.

Madeline and Lizzie entered back into the school and walked through the lobby. Then Madeline stopped, making Lizzie stop.

"Wait, did you produce the T-shirts?" Madeline asked.

Lizzie's eyes widened, not enough to look surprised. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I left them in my car."

"Can you get them?"

"Of course."

Lizzie turned around and headed for the door. As Lizzie walked off, Madeline noticed something strange about her. Something strange going on behind Lizzie. Then she spotted it: the back of Lizzie's right sleeve of her green top was split. It was strange because nothing was wrong with the left sleeve and the split looked as if it was cut from a pair of scissors.

"Lizzie," called Madeline.

Lizzie stopped then turned. "Hmm?"

"What's wrong with your sleeve?"

Lizzie scoffed. "Nothing."

"No, something's wrong. Why is your sleeve cut?"

Lizzie looked down at her right sleeve. "I-- I have no idea. Maybe it-- it wanted fresh air."

"It wanted fresh air?"

"You know because sleeves can get a little tight sometimes."

"But your sleeves are baggy."

"Really? I had no idea."

"Did you get your shirt stuck in the sewing machine again?"

"You have no proof!" Lizzie ran off before Madeline could say something else.

The School President of the United States (Chapter 1)

Once Madeline entered the cafeteria and approached the table she always sits in with her girlfriends, she slapped her hands down on the table at her "spot". The noise alarmed Andrea and Lizzie while the others saw it coming.

"Hello, my favorite people," she said sitting down.

"You seem to be in a good mood," noticed Skye.

"A very good mood," Debra grinned.

"What's the new news?" asked Lizzie. "Actually, I don't have to say 'new' because news are new. But what is the new news?"

"The new news is that I'm running for president," responded Madeline.

The girls smiled with amazed faces.

"Oh, congradulations, Maddie!" Lizzie gasped.

"Yeah, way to go!" Andrea agreed.

"Why thank you, thank you," Madeline grinned charmingly.

"That's cool you're running for president," started Skye. "You've been talking about that position forever, now it's going to come true for you."

"Yeah, hopefully. My application sheet was one of the best out of the three they picked from the twenty of those forms so I got a small chance of winning."

"That's for sure," said Lizzie. "Twenty people is a lot."

"But there are three competitors."

"But you said twenty."

"No, I said three."

"No, you said there were twenty people."

"No, twenty forms from twenty people but there are three competitors."

"What?"

Madeline shook her head. "Okay, so even though I'm running against a few students, I figured out some methods that will help me win for sure."

"What are the methods?" asked Andrea.

"Well, I was thinking that Skye and her band could write a few songs about voting for me and perform them for the school."

"Okay," Skye's voice sounded hesitant.

"And not to block your genius or make myself off of something but I did write lyrics for you to sing."

"Okay. When can I see them?"

"Right now." Madeline reached down under the neck of her coral shirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She unfolded it then handed it to Skye.

"Ah, the bra: nature's basket," Lizzie shared.

Skye ran her eyes over the words of the paper. "These lyrics are egotistical," she commented.

"You mean truthful?" Madeline asked.

"No, egotistical. I love you, Maddie but I'm not going to sing how cool you are."

"Come on. This will only be for a day. Maybe two. Maybe for a week."

"Can my band get paid?"

"Skye, you're my friend; I shouldn't have to pay you."

Skye slapped the piece of paper. "Fine. I will ask my bandmates if they can help me produce some songs for you."

"Thank you. Also, another method is that Debra can make some charm bracelets to sell to the students like she's done before."

"Oh, great!" Debra grinned. "I bought this new DIY bracelet kit and I can't wait to break it off."

"Make sure you put my name on them."

"What if they don't buy them all?"

"Then you'll have bracelets that remind you of me."

"What can I do for you?" questioned Andrea.

"And me, too?" Lizzie added.

"You," Madeline pointed at Andrea, "can help get me the Spanish vote."

Andrea crinkled her nose. "That seems a bit segregated."

"It's not called 'segregation', it's called 'connection'. Maybe we can film a video and you can speak your fluent Spanish in it. Lizzie, you can help make T-shirts."

"Yes, I love fashion designing," said Lizzie.

"But when you're working the sewing machine, ask for someone to help you."

"Aw, do I have to?"

"Yes. We don't want you to have another 'accident'. Remember last year when you had to bring the sewing machine to school because it was stuck to your shirt?"

"I'll keep my apparell out of the way this time."

Madeline paused. "No, you must be supervised."

"Who are you running against anyway?" asked Andrea.

"Chrissy Walker and A.J. Hart. Smart kids but they can't beat me."

"Why?" questioned Skye. "Because you're too cool for school?"

"Ooh, that would sound good in another song!"

Skye paused. "I've spoken too much."