
“How could you support him?” She yelled, hands on hips, lips pursed in disapproval. Just as I thought she was done, “Him!” She yelled again. Unable to form any more words, she stared while I sipped my soda.
“What’s wrong with him?” He wasn’t the best but he was a good candidate. He created controversies, but also good arguments. And as his bushy hair soared, so did his popularity. I stood my ground, certain that responsibilities will alter attitudes.
“But he contested against me!” She wailed, her eyes welling up. “How could you not support me for class leader, Dad?”
