10
The next day was Wednesday. It felt like a Wednesday to John Adams. He was already sick of the week, yet he couldn't say that it was almost over. But at least he had the paper to think about. And that is exactly what was occupying his thoughts as he made his way to school on his rusty old scooter. "Three days. Only three days."
This day passed in the same fashion as the previous day had. He went to algebra and failed a pop quiz. This was no surprise to him though. After his blow up with Abigail the night before, he doubted that he still had a math tutor. As soon as he entered the cafeteria at lunchtime, he ran over to Ben, who was munching on a bag of corn chips.
"We must get to work as quickly as possible! We only have three days to convince the other half of the paper that we need to print Richard's article. Who do we have so far?"
"Well, there's Caesar Rodney, Stephen Hopkins, Thomas Jefferson, you, and me."
"What about that new kid?"
"Who? Lyman Hall? I doubt it. I think Edward Rutledge has taken him under his wing. Actually, if you ask me, I think he forced him under his wing."
"Ok... Wait. Isn't there another guy whose joining the paper?"
"Oh yeah. That really friendly kid, uh... John Witherspoon! That's it!"
"Oh good god!" Adams moaned. "Another John?!"
"Yeah. Sorry about that."
"Anyway, what's he like?"
"I don't know. But that's him over there." Adams looked to see an average sized boy tugging at a piece of fried chicken with his teeth.
"Well, let's go get him before Dickinson and Rutledge do!" At this, Adams confidently trotted towards John Witherspoon, Ben struggling to keep up, being that he was in a cast.
"Hi there. I'm John Adams." At this, Adams held out his hand to Witherspoon, who stared up startled.
"Ummm... Hi! It's nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but mine are kind of greasy from the chicken."
"Oh," Adams murmured, pulling back his hand. "I hear you are going to join the paper."
"Um, yeah. I am. I was planning on checking it out today, actually."
"What kind of writing do you...write?"
"Honestly, I have to say that my favorite writer in the newspaper is-"
"Oh let me guess. You like John Dickinson's work."
"Ummm... No. Well, I don't mind it. It's all right if... well, if you want to go to sleep!" He chuckled at his own joke. "Forgive me. That was unkind. What I was going to say is... I really like your work." Adams looked up surprised.
"Me? Really?"
"Yes. You write what you think and aren't afraid of the consequences. I admire that."
"Well what would you say if I were to tell you that right now, the paper is trying to decide whether or not to add an article that could get us all into trouble, but in the process, could change this entire school as we know it?" Witherspoon took another bite of chicken intensely.
"Did you write this article?"
"No. Actually, the section is comprised of two articles, both of which are by freshmen at this school."
"But you support everything they have to say?"
"I will defend every word of it."
"Well... then I guess I would too." Adams beamed with joy. He smiled at Ben, who was still watching Witherspoon, not quite sure if he could take him seriously or not.
"Really? Are you saying that if we vote on whether or not to print this article, you would side with us?"
"Yes. I will. Definitely."
"Thank you very much. You have taken a great pressure off my mind!" Adams exclaimed. He arrogantly sauntered past Dickinson's table. Dickinson had no idea of what just happened, but he knew that he could not trust it.
"Good job, John," Ben commended as he and Adams returned to their table. "That's one down."
"And how many to go?"
"Well, technically it doesn't really have to be unanimous. But you did say that you could get every person in the room to side with you."
"Ok, so how many is that?"
"There's Lyman Hall, George Read, Samuel Chase, Joseph Hewes, Edward Rutledge, James Wilson, and last but definitely not least, John Dickinson." Adams sighed, starting to feel overwhelmed again.
"Ok. I guess I'll start with Samuel Chase."
"And who do you want me to take care of?"
"Well... try Joseph Hewes and James Wilson. They're both minions. Just get them away from Rutledge and Dickinson!"
"Ok. What about the other four?"
"We'll worry about them tomorrow. Just focus on James Wilson and Joseph Hewes!" Ben grunted and returned to his corn chips. Adams reluctantly stepped forward, searching the room for Samuel Chase. And there he was, sitting at a table with three trays of bacon and coleslaw in front of him. "Lord, look at him stuff himself!" Adams groaned. But times were tough. And he needed Samuel Chase's vote.