Dead Politician Society

Chapter 51: Clare

Clare followed Jessica through the roomful of white linen. Most people already had salad plates in front of them.

“There!” said Jessica. “I see them.”

She pulled Clare by the wrist and nearly launched them both into a waiter as they reached her family’s table.

“Sorry,” said Jessica. “Totally my fault we’re late. Actually it’s the subway’s fault. Stupid delay. I think it was a jumper. This is Clare.”

“Didn’t miss much.” A young man at the table offered Clare a wry grin. “Just some overdressed watercress and a few choice words from the Honorable John Alton. I’m Rory.”

Clare hoped her dress was working, that she didn’t look as awkward as she felt.

Jessica snorted. “Mr. Alton is a walking speech. Gramps, thanks so much for getting these tickets.”

“My pleasure, sweetie. Happy birthday. Clare, you take that seat beside Rory.”

Clare sat, and Jessica’s grandfather introduced himself and his wife as Mr. and Mrs Dunne. She smiled and nodded politely. “Thank you for having me tonight.”

“How was your politics class today?” Mr. Dunne directed the question at both of them.

“Which one?” Jessica said. “It’s our major.”

“The one where you get to change the world.”

“Poli Real World,” Jessica said.

“Isn’t that, like, the prof who dates his students?” Rory asked.

“Do you go to U of T?” Clare asked him.

“Used to. Until I realized that memorizing and regurgitating isn’t for me.”

“What do you do instead?”

“I’m a snowboard instructor at Blue Mountain.”

“It’s summer,” Jessica said. “You’re unemployed.”

“Yeah, but come on. Chicks don’t want to go out with some unemployed dude who lives with his grandparents.”

“Clare wouldn’t date you anyway. She has taste. Stop hitting on my friends.”

Mr. Dunne smiled thinly. “Clare can make up her own mind who she dates. I’m also interested in your thoughts about the utopia class, Clare.”

Clare took a breath, reminded herself what Matthew said: they’re only people.

“I’m enjoying it,” she said. “I love the structure. We filled in these questionnaires to determine which party we belong to ideologically, rather than who we vote for in real life.” Ugh. She sounded like a five-year-old simpleton.

“Jessica mentioned you were surprised with your result.”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve always considered myself more conservative.” Had she? Clare had no idea. “But it’s interesting to look at things from the other side. I mean, the point of utopia isn’t partisan politics anyway.”

“And Jessica, you came out as a Tree-Hugger. No surprise there.”

Clare let out her breath as the spotlight moved away. She took a small sip of wine.

Jessica gave her grandfather a sheepish grin. “I knew what the exercise was for, so I answered on purpose to land in the Tree-Huggers. He skews the test without realizing he’s doing it, so if I’d answered honestly I probably would have ended up a Commie.”