"What do you mean the car won't start?"

For all its wheezing, the junk bucket had never failed on her brother before. Now, all she could do was listen to the engine sputter as he turned the key. Kristy felt her heart suddenly race as the aged car gave a weak roar before it slammed to a stop against her ribs when its last sputtered cough came to a choking silence.

"It's not like I don't want it to start!" Charlie leaned his palms flat against the center of the steering wheel.

"Then get it started!" Her voice echoed off the car's windows, bouncing back into her ears like a pinball. Her cheeks flamed. Hurriedly, she hid them behind her soaked palms. Kristy would never let a kid use that tone of voice with her.

Her stomach was a hard knot dragging down her body. She dared not look at her wristwatch. No doubt, her friends were sitting across town, their knees pulled to their chests and eyes also locked on the clock — when they weren't flitting back to Claudia's door. Mary Anne would be concerned. Kristy could just see her pulling at the ends of her hair, her mind concocting all sorts of far-fetched reasons for why she hadn't arrived yet. Would Mary Anne even have the guts to look at the empty director's chair? Claudia would never forget the incident. One missed meeting on Kristy's part could excuse her own every future infraction. Stacey might care. She might not. What did it matter to her as long as she got her dues and bag of sugar-free gummy bears?

And Dawn? Out of everyone, Kristy could see her face clearest. That wide grin, her relaxed shoulders but straight back. She couldn't blame Dawn, not really. Kristy gritted her teeth. Who wouldn't be happy to be president?