An ex-couples rivalry for the spot as student body president becomes even more convoluted when two new, unexpected candidates enter the race. Chloe and Preston team up, each vowing to get one member kicked from the competition-- but when they both e...
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Finn and I agreed to compromise when it came to meeting up at lunch— I was adamant about not going outside under the bleachers in the cold with all his rowdy friends, and he wasn't too thrilled about the idea of sitting at my lunch table. In his own words, there was "no way he'd be caught dead sitting with the royal family."
We decided to work in an unoccupied stairwell, away from the dubious stares from either of our cliques. After Thursday's pastry event, everyone knew we were working together, and the reactions were somewhat of a mixed bag. Mostly, people were just confused, shocked that I'd voluntarily demoted myself and curious as to why I was helping Finn.
In my eyes, I wasn't really helping Finn, I was helping myself— which meant it was time to get to work.
"Okay," I started, opening my binder as Finn took a crumpled brown bag from the backpack sitting next to him on the tiled floor. "The treats were great. It got the word out that we're working together, and probably influenced a lot of voters—"
"Are you always so serious?" Finn interrupted, reaching inside the bag and pulling out half of a sandwich, its leafy and meaty contents practically spilling out of the sides. He took a large bite, looking to me for an answer as he chewed.
I sighed, averting my eyes from the spot of mayonnaise that clung to the side of his mouth. My hands reached into my insulated lunch bag, pulling out a napkin and handing it to him. He took it, wiping his face as I answered, "Not always, no."
"You are aware that we're just campaigning for student body president, right?"
I tilted my head, eyebrows furrowing as if to silently say, "Duh!"
"You're treating this like I'm about to be the next Obama," he elaborated. "It's a high school race. We should try to have fun with it."
"Fun isn't going to help us win."
"If it isn't fun, then who gives a damn about winning?"
"I do."
"Chloe, I'm telling you, we have this in the bag. Sure, Preston is popular, but he's not gonna convince people to vote for this girl, okay?" He took another bite, and I glared at him, annoyed by his uncaring attitude.
"If you don't start taking things seriously, people will vote for her instead of you," I argued. He rolled his eyes, making me even more irritated. "If she has good promises and all you have is... fake strippers and Wesley Gash, you're not going to be a lot of people's first choice."
"Okay, alright," he held up a hand, silently urging me to calm down.
"We can use the promises I planned." I looked down at the paper in my lap, which had a neat, organized list displayed across the page. "More time during exams, upgraded bathroom facilities, healthier lunch options—"
Finn pretended to snore, the low, grating sound causing my eyes to snap up to him. His were closed, but they opened when I stopped talking. One side of his mouth lifted as he picked up his sandwich again.
