A/N: If nothing else, I'm good with unusual chapter titles... xD

"Are you sure nobody's gonna recognize me?"

"Of course I'm sure, Charlie Brown. Your face is all shadowed and you'll be yards and yards away from everyone."

"Yeah, Chuck, and even if they did recognize you, I think you look pretty cute."

"And it might even help your reputation," pointed out Lucy. "You know, supporting the school mascot?"

"Yeah, if you win," answered Charlie, frowning in the mirror. "If you lose, Hennessy's gonna make sure I go down in Schulz High history as the Gladiator traitor. Good grief, it even rhymes! 'Gladiator Traitor.'"

"Charlie Brown," Lucy said, placing her hands squarely on his shoulders, "I guarantee I am not going to lose this election to Jimmy Hennessy. If I lose — which is a big 'if' — it'll be to Elizabeth, but not Hennessy."

He raised an eyebrow. "Self-assured much?"

"Confident is all," she corrected brightly. "Now come on, Patty, you have to start leading the cheering section in the auditorium."

"Okay," agreed Patty, capping her water bottle and following Lucy out from backstage. "Bye, Chuck," she called before leaving, blowing a kiss in his direction.

He smiled and caught it, then quickly returned to his lament in the mirror. How does Lucy always rope me into things like this?

"Ahem. Attention, students. Attention."

A hush fell over the group of students gathered in the school auditorium as Marcie began to speak.

"I have been asked by our illustrious principal, Mr. Melendez —" And here she paused to allow the crowd to briefly cheer for their longtime favorite principal — "to begin this first rally for this year's Senior Class President elections. Today we will hear from our three candidates about their respective campaign platforms, as well as their choices for running mates. And we will begin with one of our most beloved athletes here at Schulz High, Miss Elizabeth Auerbach!"

The girl that took the stage amid excited cheering was a tall and impressive one, standing a good three or four inches above most of the girls — and several of the boys — at Schulz High. Elizabeth, captain of the girls' basketball team, was renowned by nearly everyone at school, and her goal of bringing back the school football team (which had been dissolved about five years ago, after a lengthy losing streak coupled with two outstanding seasons in a row for the baseball team) went over particularly well; even Lucy and her self-declared archrival Jimmy couldn't help but be impressed.

(Jimmy Hennessy had held a grudge against Lucy ever since the fifth grade science fair, where her analysis of Linus's attachment to his security blanket had beat out his homemade lightbulb for first place.)

Thanks to Jimmy's request of "ladies first," Lucy was, against her own wishes, the next speaker. But with courage she smoothed out her hair and striped slacks, gathered her note cards, and took the stage.

"Fellow students, faculty, and of course, our illustrious principal, good morning. As my dear friend Marcie mentioned, my name is Lucy Van Pelt. Most of you — the freshmen, especially — probably know me as 'Dear Lucy,' the Gazette's advice guru. On the other hand, those of you who are members of the chess club probably know me as that one annoying girl who's a bad loser and a worse winner — I apologize again for that incident with the rook, Justin."

Snickers arose from the audience, with emphasis added by Patricia's very rehearsed cackle-laugh.

"But I'm here today with another purpose entirely. You see, my mission if I become your Senior Class President is a simple, yet noble one.

"And I know what you all must be thinking — that I'm going to stand here and bamboozle you by promising less homework, shorter school days, longer free periods. Well, while I absolutely could, I know you Gladiators are much too smart to fall for flimsy political promises like that. No, as Class President, I have only two goals that I promise to strive for, and both of these are things that you'll all actually be thanking me for years from now.

"On the one hand, I'd like to aim for better caring for and protecting the mental health of all students in this school, which I'll be speaking more about when I introduce my running mate in a few minutes. But the other thing I want to truly push while in office is something that will have a lasting impact on the very reputation and legacy of this school. This focuses on what you will remember most about your high school twenty years from now. On something that'll appear on every t-shirt, in every yearbook, on every letterman jacket, in every invitation to every high school reunion you'll ever have.

"And if you haven't already guessed it by now, I am going to stop stalling and tell you what it is. Now tell me, just by a show of hands, how many of you can say you're proud — and I mean truly proud and honored — to be called the Schulz High Gladiators?"

Less than ten hands went up, and Lucy smiled slyly. "Furthermore, how many of you have asked yourselves, what is even the story behind this bizarre mascot of ours?" Several hands were raised this time. "Hmm, that's what I thought. Well, I'll tell you.

"You see, way back in the 90s — y'know, the olden days — someone in the town council decided, 'Well, why don't we build a high school here? And we'll call it Schulz High School, after that local genius. Now, any suggestions for a mascot that'll give us some nice alliteration?' And someone else said, 'How about we call them the Schulz High Spartans?' Hey, the Spartans, now that has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Now, for those of you who missed your World History class that day, the Spartans were the residents of the ancient Greek city of Sparta, and their soldiers were some of the best in the Greek Empire.

"Okay, now that the ancient history lesson is out of the way, let's return to the 90s. So it seemed settled. We were to be the Schulz High Spartans, and everything was going to be okay. But then someone, somewhere down the line, pulled a switcheroo on us. Someone apparently lost track of the exact history and confused the Spartans with Gladiators. So instead of the elite soldiers of the Greek Empire, we were saddled with some sort of Roman prototype of modern-day wrestlers, who basically killed each other just for the glory of it."

(Lucy knew she was bending history just a bit here, but she knew she had to in order for her speech to work.)

"So now you know, more or less, why we have such an unusual mascot — it was all a clerical error. Well, now, as a signed-up member of the twenty-first century, here is what I propose. If you, the students of Schulz High, elect me — Lucy Van Pelt — as your Senior Class President, I promise we will be rid of that mascot. My campaign promise is, down with the Gladiators. Let's give our unique school a representative worthy of the name. Students of SHS, how would you like to be the Schulz High Sharks?!"

The audience exploded. One would've thought Taylor Swift had just appeared when Charlie Brown burst onto the stage in his shark costume. And the young man had to admit, Lucy sure knew how to get an audience pumped up — not to mention an uncanny instinct for the exact thing the students would like. He was actually enjoying himself, supporting the movement for a new mascot and, while he was at it, getting to do some ridiculous dance moves without anyone recognizing him.

A brief continuation of Lucy's "Sharks" promotion followed before Charlie was allowed to return backstage and listen to her introduce her choice for running mate.

"... and it is my great honor to announce that one of the greatest guys I know has agreed to be my running mate in this election. Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause, please, for Mister Franklin Armstrong!"

Another ovation followed as Franklin took the stage next to Lucy, and she gave him the opportunity to explain further about the mental health goal she had mentioned earlier:

"If we are elected, we plan to form a special polling committee that will get the opinions of a broad range of students — from ninth graders to upperclassmen, from members of the Dean's List to those who struggle — on what they want their teachers to understand, how there can be better communication between professor and student, how the teachers can better help equip us for life beyond graduation… and we'll even push for the full acceptance of 'mental health days.'"

And it was at this moment, as the excitement was seen lighting up the crowd's eyes and the cheering was revived, that enough had been said. It was already clear that Lucy and Franklin would win the election.

"Van Pelt/Armstrong, for a better Schulz High!" was Lucy's concluding statement, and Marcie was left to quiet down the cheering that proceeded even after the two had left the stage.

On her way backstage, Lucy passed a seething Jimmy, who was standing by the entrance on stage right with arms crossed and a piercing glare at the Van Pelt girl. She paused next to him for a moment, briefly eyeing him with some form of sarcastic sympathy before uttering through one of her trademark smug smiles, "It's gonna be a hard act to follow."

Jimmy only growled and took the stage grudgingly.

"Hey, Lucy. Good speech."

Lucy looked from her locker up toward Franklin, who was heading in her direction, and thanked him. "You and Charlie Brown were the real stars, though. I wouldn't have gotten so much cheering if it hadn't been for you two."

The boy smiled. "That's nice of you. You know, I'm actually starting to get pretty excited about this thing! The mental health project will be really cool to work on if we win."

Lucy smiled and agreed fondly before Franklin proceeded, now somewhat uncomfortably, "So listen, I was wondering if you've seen the, um… the item in the paper about you?"

"What, today's paper?" she asked. "'Fraid not. I haven't had time for anything but classes and the rally today. Why? Did Hennessy make another dig at me?"

Franklin winced lightly and shook his head. "No, it was in the gossip column." He extended the unfolded copy of the Gazette to her. "I just, um, I figured you should hear about it from a friend."

With a questioning head tilt, Lucy took the paper and read the paragraph Franklin had pointed at.

• • •

That's The Tea

by Miss Informed

An unidentified pretty girl was recently known to have turned the head of a certain Beethoven-playing orchestra member — and driven quite a wedge between him and his class-president candidate girlfriend.

• • •

Lucy's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, rats," she groaned, her hands angrily tightening around the edges of the paper. "Rats, rats, rats!" She looked up at Franklin and sputtered, "How did she find out?"

"Oh!" Franklin's eyebrows shot up with Lucy's words. "So it's true? I thought it might be libel."

"Uh—" The girl hesitated and read the paragraph over again before giving her strained answer. "It's… mostly true, I guess."

He pursed his lips and nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Yep. Thanks," she answered quickly, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Good grief, all I went through to keep it covered up, and… Oh, that Frieda!"

"Frieda?" repeated Franklin.

"Yeah, Frieda," huffed Lucy impatiently. "I thought everyone knew that she was Miss Informed."

"Oh." He nodded slowly as he thought it over. "I… guess I should've known that."

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised, because the woman has informants all over the school, but I just… jeez!" She was speaking at a blistering speed. "I suppose it's just a stroke of luck that the girl was unidentified. Good grief, if everyone heard about it, I… Oh, how awful! I mean, I can deal with everyone's looks, and so can Schroeder, but I wouldn't wish it on Na— On the girl. Oh, man, this is terrible— I'm gonna kill that Frieda. I am."

Franklin was nodding, eyes wide, trying to process all Lucy was saying at the speed in which it was spoken, when the new voice came: "Lucy! Oh, Lucy, I read the article. I'm so sorry."

Lucy and Franklin turned to see the phony sympathy plastered on the countenance of the approaching Violet Gray. "Hello, Violet," they both murmured.

"I really do sympathize," said the cheerleader, ignoring Franklin and placing a hand on Lucy's shoulder. "It must be so terrible to have your boyfriend's head turned like that by a new girl."

"Hmmph," scoffed Lucy. "Right. And what makes you assume it was a new girl? The article didn't say anything about that."

"Oh, well…" Violet shrugged and answered, "I just assumed, I mean… Well, if Schroeder was going to have his head turned by a girl that was already here, it would've happened long ago." (With this last statement she casually twirled a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear.)

Lucy narrowed her eyes and nodded once. "I see."

"And… was it a new girl?" probed Vi.

"Well, you know me, Violet," she answered, crossing her arms. "I can neither confirm nor deny."

"Tsk. Of course. Well, anyway, good luck on your presidential campaign!" she added smugly.

"Thanks. Best of luck with your bid for Homecoming Queen."

Violet chuckled politely. "See you around, Luce."

Wide-eyed, Franklin stared as the girl walked away and Lucy turned back to him with a groan of, "Ooh, I can't stand that Violet Gray."

"Whew," he whistled. "I've never seen a real popular-girl snarkfest up close before."

"You haven't?" chuckled Lucy. "Well, I suppose being friends with Marcie and Patty, you're more used to girls that just slug it out."

"Bingo," he answered, giving her a half-smile. "Hey, are you gonna be okay about… I mean, if the item is true, then…"

"I'm okay, Franklin," she assured him. "Or at least I will be, as soon as I give that Frieda a piece of my mind. But don't worry, I wrote for the Monroe Informer in middle school, and Schroeder spent half his childhood dodging my advances. We both know how to handle impertinent questions from reporters."

Franklin nodded. "I don't doubt it. But you know, on the other hand, just say the word, and you can count on me and the guys to excommunicate Schroeder."

This made Lucy truly laugh for the first time in their conversation. "That's much appreciated, Franklin, but don't worry. I'm letting him stew in his own juice, as it were, until we get to talk things over."

"Once again, I'm not surprised you have things handled," he laughed. "But I'm sure your brother will have a few things to say about this, anyway."

"Oh, Linus is too caught up with his own affairs today to think of my mangled love life," answered Lucy as Franklin slowly began to back away in the direction of the student council's meeting room. "He's asking a girl to Homecoming."

"A gesture? Like flowers?"

"Sure, flowers are a great idea."

"Okay, so maybe I can buy her a dozen roses, or—"

"Not roses, Linus."

The boy furrowed his brow in an unspoken question. "Why—"

"Because this isn't the 1950s, and you're not proposing marriage," explained Lucy with impatience. "You're asking a girl you've just met to spend an evening with you at a school dance. You need something light and cheery. Like daisies, or— No, sunflowers! Yes, 'sunflowers and a box of Ferrero chocolates are the sweetest way you could ask a girl to Homecoming,' that's what she said."

"Who said that?"

"Um— I forget. But just trust me, sunflowers and a box of Ferreros will do the trick."

True to his sister's advice, Linus had left the house very early this morning to buy a fresh bouquet of bright, cheery sunflowers from the neighborhood market, and kept them in water in his locker during the day, along with the box of chocolates for his Homecoming proposal. Now he rushed to where he was pretty sure Nancy's locker was to ask her to the dance before she could leave for the afternoon.

Yes, he had been right. There, just a few yards away, was the locker, and there was the girl who had so effortlessly (and unwittingly) captured his attention. Nothing was going to stop him now. Nothing except—

"Linus!"

He paused in front of the door to the Cosmetology room, from where the voice had called, and begrudgingly turned. "Hi, Sally."

"Where are you headed with those flowers?" she inquired as she approached.

"Um—" He stole a glance at Nancy and saw that she had closed her locker. "Rats. I'm, uh, I'm taking your advice and asking the girl to Homecoming."

There was a brief pause before Sally gasped softly. "With sunflowers and Ferrero candies?"

Linus nodded quickly. "Uh-huh."

"Oh! W- well," she stammered, tucking a loose curl of hair neatly into her updo, "go, um, go ahead. Don't let me stop you," she giggled.

"All right," he agreed, already backing away. "I'll talk to you afterwards and tell you what she says, 'kay, Sal?"

Her already quiet answer was drowned out by the swirl of voices enveloping Linus as he found his way through the crowd of students, following the canvas backpack and auburn braids that remained just out of reach.

Linus hadn't wanted to call out, so as not to attract too much attention from the other kids, but finally he realized that he'd never catch up to her otherwise. "Nancy?"

She didn't stop.

"Nancy?" he called again, slightly louder.

Success, he thought with equal parts relief and dread as the girl stopped in her tracks and turned.

"Oh, hey, Linus," she said with a smile. "Are you calling me?"

"Affirmative," he replied, internally groaning at his sudden inability to utter the simple word yes. "I was just, um— Well, you see, the thing is, I…" He squeezed his eyes shut and blurted out his question as fast as he could. "Nancy, I think you're a really awesome girl, and I was wondering, would you like to be my date to the Homecoming dance?"

When he didn't hear an answer, he opened his eyes — and found Nancy smiling that lovely confused smile she had. "Really, you're asking me?"

"Mm-hmm," he squeaked, giving a single nod. Suddenly he became aware he was still holding the flowers and the candy in his sweaty hands, and he held them out in her direction almost like a shield. "And, erm, whether you do or not, these are for you anyway. I hope you like sunflowers. And that you're, um, not allergic to hazelnuts."

Nancy smiled and took the offered gifts. "Thank you. I love sunflowers — and hazelnuts."

Linus finally managed to return the smile. "I'm glad."

"Well, I'm very flattered, Linus," she continued, "but I have to be honest, I wasn't sure if I was even going to Homecoming."

Linus gulped nervously. The words "I understand, no problem" were on the tip of his tongue, but Nancy seemed to take note of this, as she quickly added:

"However, with such a sweet offer, how can I possibly say no?"

He looked up. "Wait, so you're saying…?"

"I would love to go with you, is what I'm saying. And thank you," she added, gesturing toward the flowers.

The tension built up inside him dissipated with these words. "Oh, that's wonderful!— I mean, that's great. I mean— awesome. We can talk details on Monday, I guess?"

"That would be great," agreed Nancy, smiling brightly. "I guess I'll see you around."

And with these words she was gone, once again lost in the chaotic crowd of teens. Linus's head was buzzing with euphoria and the happiest disbelief. It was by something just short of a miracle that he managed to remember Sally and that he'd told her he would tell her how it had gone. He struggled his way back through the crowd and looked for Sally at her locker, but she was nowhere to be found now.

How strange, he thought, but naturally assumed she must have had some sort of urgent business or other and had had to leave. I'll just call her later, then.

"Man, Frieda, I almost ruined myself in front of Lucy earlier talking about the new girl. How come you put her down in your column as 'unidentified'?"

"Oh, that new girl," laughed Frieda, her unspoken question having answered itself. "Well, after all, Vi, this girl seemed pretty shy and all, and you know I never identify people in my column unless I know they can deal with the gossip. Schroeder can handle it. Knowing Lucy, she'll probably embrace it. But I'm not sure about this Nancy girl, so just to be safe, I kept her name out of it."

Violet scoffed as the two slid into her car. "You're too considerate to be a good journalist, Frie. Don't forget about freedom of the press and all that stuff."

"On the contrary," said her friend cheerily. "Knowing just when to be considerate will make me a great political journalist when I'm working for the Washington Post. Senators and presidents will be crawling over themselves to leak all the right information to me. And later I might even get my own show and be the next Trevor Noah!"

"Right," chuckled Vi, turning the keys in the ignition. "Well, I don't know about political commentary, but there is one thing you do that's already every bit as good as Trevor Noah."

"What's that?"

"Your naturally curly hair," she replied.

"Oh, absolutely," answered Frieda, nodding as if every word was perfectly serious. "The very key to success as a talk show host is having naturally curly hair."

Charlie almost didn't notice it. She shot past his bedroom door so quickly that if he'd blinked, he'd have missed her. But the blonde blur that was obviously his sister almost — almost — seemed to be crying. And when in her wake Sally Brown left a slammed door that shook the entire house, her brother knew something was wrong.

"Sally?" he called, walking out of his room and knocking gently on her door. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, big brother," answered the voice on the other side of the door, but Charlie could now tell from the sound of her choked breathing that she was definitely crying.

"Wha— Everything is not fine, Sal, and we both know it. Can I come in?"

"Fine," she snuffled after a moment, and Charlie opened the door slowly.

He sat next to her on her bed, where she was lying on her stomach with her face buried in pillows. "What is it, Sally?" he asked softly.

The girl lifted her head to look at him through water-filled eyes. "Oh, big brother, it's awful!"

"What is?"

"Linus asked another girl to Homecoming!" she wailed, collapsing into the pillows again.

Charlie Brown's first emotion was confusion. "Oh," he began slowly. "I see. But he— you— Well, why shouldn't he?"

"Because!" hissed Sally. "He asked her with sunflowers and a box of Ferreros! That's my Homecoming proposal!"

"Oh, but… is that the only reason you're upset?"

"No, it's more than that," she sniffed, sitting up and facing him. "I just thought that… I don't know! He said there was a girl he was interested in, so I told him to ask her to Homecoming, and then today he— showed up with— flowers— and the way he spoke to me— I thought— I thought he was asking m- me!"

"I see. And… is that what you wanted?" her brother questioned.

"Well, I don't know. I just— Well, all I know is, I would've said yes! Of course I would've! He's my sweet babboo!" she cried, this time burying her face in her brother's shoulder.

"Sweet babboo?" repeated Charlie. "There's one I haven't heard in a while. I thought you were over Linus. Haven't you spent the last two years trying to convince us you were?"

"Yeah."

"So what happened?"

Sally shrugged, messily swiping away a stream of tears with her palm, and painfully choked out, "Well, I thought I was! But then I saw him with those flowers, and I just… Oh, how was I supposed to know I wasn't? I'm only 15! I'm a child!"

Charlie sighed sadly as he gently rubbed his sister's back to calm her sudden hiccups. "Poor, sweet baby."

A/N: Poor Nancy seems to be really good at unwittingly ruining everything…

All constructive criticism/reviews are greatly appreciated! :)