May the Best Ex Win

3 | Careful, Princess

I already knew where Finn would be: outside, under the bleachers. An area that was not permitted to eat lunch in, but that he and his friends went to every day regardless. I got a look at Finn's poster on my way out of the building, and it only made me angrier. 

Would it kill him to take this even a little bit seriously? Uhg. I was so not about to let some rule-breaking rebel ruin my senior year with his idiotic campaign and illegitimate promises.

A sharp breeze convinced me to zip up my jacket as I headed down the grassy hill, trying not to lose my footing. The sky was grey, leaves newly yellowed from the early November weather. I could see Finn and his friends a short ways away. I could already hear them, that was for sure. Loud guffaws and conversation echoed off of the metal structure above them, making its way to my unappreciative ears.

His group was large and disorganized, consisting of pretty much any bottom dweller who didn't fit into some other premade category. A few of them took notice of me as I walked closer, heavy-lidded stares and eyes with too much makeup following me with every step. I didn't pay them any more attention than an uninterested glance before setting my glare back to the tall, tan-skinned boy leaning against one of the bleacher's supports.

I weaved through the group and his eyes found mine, eyebrows raising as he gave me a once over, head tilting to the side. I huffed when I reached him, placing my hands on my hips.

 He stared down at me, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "This oughtta be good."

"We need to talk," I demanded. A few snickers emitted from the surrounding misfits.

"Us? Talk?" Finn looked at the two guys next to him in exaggerated confusion, turning back to me with furrowed eyebrows. "Careful, Princess. Wouldn't want to shake the foundations of your precious social pyramid too hard."

The pale, scraggly looking boy next to him laughed loudly, but I remained stone-faced. I wasn't going to let him undermine me with a stupid nickname, let alone a jab at my popularity. 

"Why are you running for student body president?" I questioned, crossing my arms.

He rolled his eyes, scoffing as if insulted that I'd waste his time with this conversation. "Because I want to be student body president. Look, I hate to break it to you, but if you couldn't figure that out then maybe you should reconsider running."

"You should reconsider," I retaliated. The conversations around us faded to a stop, and I found myself suddenly aware of just how many people were listening in. 

Finn stood straight and I swallowed, having to crane my neck back to look him in the eyes. He stepped forward and gestured with his head for me to follow, leading me away from the crowd.

He stopped at the edge of the bleachers and I shivered as another gust of wind blew past. I couldn't imagine why they would want to eat out here when the building had perfectly good heating inside, but that was far down on the list of things I didn't understand about Finn and his group of misfits. 

"I should reconsider?" he repeated, the question laced with sass.

"Yes," I said, watching as he tucked a strand of brown hair behind his ear, motioning with his hand for me to go on, waving it in small circles. "I have a lot of power at this school, Finn."

"And?"

"And I can guarantee that if you run, I'll use every bit of that power to bad mouth you and tarnish whatever kind of reputation you have," I snapped, annoyed with his cocky indifference.

"What, is that supposed to scare me?" he asked, looking me up and down once again. "Am I supposed to go running to the office to resign because some five foot four girl in a cashmere sweater says so?"

I could feel the uncomfortable mixture of anger and embarrassment bubbling in my chest, but I tried to keep my exterior cool. The last thing I wanted was for him to know he was getting to me. "I promise I will spend every minute of this race making your life a living hell. So if you have any sense at all, you'll quit before I start humiliating you."

"Wow." He squinted at my words, a playful smirk growing on his lips. He leaned back against the metal support behind him, thumbs resting casually in the empty belt loops of his worn-out jeans. "When you planned this whole conversation out in your head, you actually thought I'd be intimidated, didn't you?"

"Don't condescend me," I said, trying not to clench my teeth. Even Preston wasn't this frustrating. "Are you going to back out or not?"

"Well, let's think about this logically," he started, bringing a hand up to stroke his chin. His whole personality seemed like such an act, like everything he did and said was given to him on a script. "You can't threaten my reputation, because in case you haven't noticed, I really don't give a rat's ass about the whole being liked thing. Anyone who believes whatever lies you're planning to spread about me is someone I probably wouldn't get along with anyway, so who gives?"

"Okay," I said, unable to keep the annoyance from seeping into my voice, "that doesn't change the fact that there's no point for you to run. You and I both know I'll win."

"Ah!" He held up a finger, smiling widely. "A good bluff, but not true. You're popular, Chloe. A lot of people like you, even— although in this five-minute conversation I haven't quite been able to figure out the reason why. But that social pyramid I talked about earlier? Sure, Chloe, you're at the top. But the bottom is a hell of a lot bigger."

I sighed, crossing my arms. His point was made, and I knew he was right— it was why I wanted him out so badly in the first place. "Okay, fine. So what do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm willing to bribe you, just tell me what you want."

"Well," his eyes trailed over me again, this time slow enough to make me want to squirm, "What are you willing to offer?"

"If you think I'm offering anything like that, you're just as delusional as you are perverted," I snapped, crossing my arms.

He laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "Hey, I'm just trying to make a deal. But I'm pretty fond of the idea of winning this thing anyway, so don't sweat it."

"Don't count on it," I argued. "You're going to have to work your ass off to beat me, Finn. I'm going to double down on every strategy imaginable, because believe me, there would be almost nothing more embarrassing than being beaten by someone as unnotable as you."

His smirk finally fell, and I knew I'd finally gotten to him. I turned on my heel and began the walk back to school, trying to calm myself down. Why I let myself be so infuriated by him I wasn't sure, but I did know one thing: between him and Preston, I wanted to win this thing more than ever.