This story is inspired by Myron’s experience as class president in Chapter 8 of Sideways Stories from Wayside School. Before we dive into the fan‑fiction, let’s take a brief look at what the eighth chapter is about.
CHAPTER 8. MYRON — SUMMARY
Myron becomes class president and is disappointed to learn that his only responsibility is turning the lights on in the morning and off at the end of the school day. That afternoon, after classes, Myron saves Dana’s dog by rushing the injured puppy to the vet after it’s hit by a car. The next morning, he visits the dog before school, which makes him a little late. As soon as he arrives, Mrs. Jewls informs him that he will be replaced by Stephen for failing to turn on the lights that morning.
At lunch, Myron walked to the far corner of the playground and sat on a bench in the shade of a tall tree. He had just bitten into his sandwich when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Do you mind if we join you?” a voice called.
Myron turned and saw Arlo and Silas. He knew them well: excellent basketball players, great guys, and always laughing about something.
“Sure,” Myron said, scooting over to make room.
Myron blinked. “What do you mean?”
Silas pointed toward the school building with his giant sandwich. “We know Mrs. Jewls replaced you with Stephen,” he said, shaking his head. “Totally unfair.”
“But how did you hear that?” Myron asked.
Arlo grinned. “News travels fast at Wayside School. Faster than the elevator, even.”
They both laughed.
“But it’s actually good news,” Arlo continued. “Because we’re looking for someone like you. We think you’d make a great class president.”
Myron started coughing and nearly choked on his sandwich.
Silas immediately pulled a bottle of water from his pocket (Myron didn’t even want to know how it fit in there) and handed it to him. “Here.”
After a few gulps, Myron croaked, “Say that again?”
“We’d like you to be our class president,” Arlo repeated. “We need someone mindful and dedicated. Someone like you.”
“But I’m not in your class!” Myron exclaimed. “I’m in Mrs. Jewls’s class on the thirtieth floor.”
Silas patted him on the back. “We don’t need a classroom president. We need a recess president. Someone who can help us organize games so we don’t waste half of recess finding balls or arguing about turns.”
Myron frowned. “Is that what a class president is supposed to do?”
“For us, yes,” Arlo said. “So, what do you say? Do you want to give it a try?”
Myron’s eyebrows shot up. “Right now?”
“Sure,” Silas said, pointing across the field. “Everyone’s waiting.”
Myron squinted. A group of kids from Mr. King’s class were jumping and waving at him.
“Okay,” he muttered, standing. “I guess I can try.”
It turned out to be the best recess ever. Mr. King’s class had only managed to secure two balls, but Myron organized basketball teams, kickball teams, and a rotation for tetherball, hopscotch, and tag. By the end of recess, everyone had played at least two games and had the time of their lives.
Myron couldn’t wait for the next recess.
“I told you you’re the best class president in the history of Wayside School,” Arlo said, high fiving him.
“You didn’t actually say that,” Myron laughed. “But thanks. And thank you for the opportunity.”
“We thank you,” Silas said, patting him on the back. “See you in an hour.”
The next class was a blur. Myron checked the clock every thirty seconds. He couldn’t even remember what Mrs. Jewls was teaching.
When the bell rang, he dashed out the door and down the stairs. Outside, he scanned the playground for Mr. King’s students.
“Over here, Myron!” someone called.
It was Todd, holding a red ball Louis had just given him.
“Oh, hi Todd,” Myron said. “Do you need extra players?”
Todd shook his head. “We’ve got enough. But you can cheer for us until someone gets tired.”
Myron hesitated. “Sure. But I need to check something first.”
He ran after Louis, who was carrying jump ropes and hula hoops back to the sports gear room.
“Louis! Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Louis said. “Hold these first.”
He dumped the ropes and hoops into Myron’s arms, then picked up the yellow ball and a stack of frisbees.
“Walk with me,” Louis said. “Tell me everything.”
Myron explained it all, from Mrs. Jewls appointing him class president, to being replaced, to organizing recess for Mr. King’s class.
They dropped the equipment onto the racks and stepped outside again. Louis watched the children running and laughing across the yard.
“I like Arlo and Silas,” he said. “And I’m sure their class had a wonderful time with you.”
“Yes, but now Todd expects me to spend time with his team,” Myron said. “If I keep helping Mr. King’s class, I feel like I’m betraying my own classmates.”
Louis chuckled. “But you’re not really their class president, are you?”
“What do you mean? You saw me organizing everything, didn’t you?”
“This is the playground, Myron,” Louis said, spreading his arms wide. “If you lead Mr. King’s students only at recess, you’re just pretending to be their class president.”
Myron’s face lit up. “So, I’m not betraying anyone because it’s just a game.”
“Exactly.”
“Smart,” Myron said. “But why does it feel like you just proved that white is black?”
Louis smiled. “Because you care, Myron. That’s why. Now go do what feels right.”
Myron ran toward Arlo and Silas, who were waiting for him on the field. The students in Mr. King’s class cheered as he approached.
