Comparing and Contrasting Themes in Stories by Crystal Allen

A President for Everyone by Crystal Allen

It’s the last day before voting for fourth-grade class president.

I, Katarina Tannenbun, must win this election. My older brother won it in fourth grade. So did my older sister. And now, it’s my turn to prove I can be a winner, too! My little sister is a third-grade student. I’m sure she’ll want to follow in my footsteps.

My slogan is Tannenbun Is Number One! My campaign speech got a standing ovation. I promised the girls who helped make posters for my campaign that I would designate one of the bathrooms for their use only. I promised the boys who taped my posters all over the school that I’d make sure they could have seconds on Pizza Friday in the cafeteria.

During lunch, it got live-concert loud. I’m shaking hands with voters when Lillie Moran, an unpopular girl from my neighborhood, stops me. “Katarina, if you become class president, will you be president for just the kids you like to hang out with, or will you care about us, too?”

The cafeteria turns 3 a.m. quiet. My eyeballs ping-pong back and forth at voters. There’s whispering. “Lillie just asked Katarina if she will be president for everybody—or just her friends?”

I think about the promises of private bathrooms and extra pizza. I know they were silly and probably not realistic. Then I think about my brother and sister. They were excellent leaders. And then, I see my little sister.

Suddenly I realize this isn’t just about me winning. It’s about family honor and leading by example.

One popular girl shouts, “She’s totally our president, or else we won’t vote for her.”

“No way, she’s ours, or we won’t vote for her,” hollers a popular boy.

Now the cafeteria is 3 p.m. the-school-bell-has-just-rung noisy. I put up my hand for everyone to settle down. Then I speak. “I’m changing my slogan to Tannenbun Is for Everyone.”

The BIG Game by Crystal Allen

Kyrie and Shawn are best buddies but also rivals, especially when it comes to sports and games. Today at recess they’re playing against each other in the fifth-grade kickball championship.

I’m strutting to school in my favorite red-and-black basketball outfit. Shawn’s strolling in his blue-and-gold soccer gear. This is our battle armor. And as usual, we’re joking around with each other about today’s kickball championship.

... (game action) ...

My classmates smother me, chanting my name. Ky-rie! Ky-rie! Even Shawn’s class congratulates me on an amazing win. Shawn shakes his head, rolls his eyes, and refuses a fist-bump after the game. It’s not my fault the ump didn’t see the ball touch my knee! If Shawn’s going to have an attitude, it should be at Mr. C., not me!

A few hours later, school’s out. Shawn always walks home with me. After we have a snack, we usually play a two-player video game, then some one-on-one, or have a foul-shooting contest before he heads home for dinner and homework.

But not today.

It’s a slow walk home by myself. Two-player video games don’t work when it is just one person. Shooting hoops alone is worse. Even though my class won the kickball championship, I don’t feel like a champion. My stomach hurts, and it’s not because I’m sick. I sit on my basketball and stare at the wristbands Shawn gave to me. My shoulders droop.

I carry my basketball over to Shawn’s house and knock on the door. He answers with a frown. “What do you want?”

“My bad, Shawn. Tomorrow, I promise I’ll tell Mr. C. that your throw got me out. Can we shoot hoops now?”

He chews on his bottom lip and locks his eyes on mine. Suddenly he grabs my basketball and grins.

“I’m going to cream your corn.”

I laugh and grab my ball back. “Not before I dunk your donuts. Let’s go!”