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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After taking Emily home we made plans to meet at her house over the weekend, agreeing we should get back to work on her speech. I showed up at her place on Sunday around three, caught off guard by the tall and broad figure that answered the door. Her dad looked a lot bigger than when I'd seen him in the kitchen, and I couldn't help from shifting the bag on my shoulder under his stare, which was somehow intimidating despite the lack of hostility.
"Uh, hi, I'm Preston— Emily's friend."
He held out his hand, and I shook it as he stepped aside, inviting me in. "Of course, the one who's helping with her campaign."
"Yeah." I nodded as he let go, both of us turning as Emily bounded down the steps, stopping halfway.
"I told you I'd get it," she said to her father, voice filled with suppressed irritation. "We'll be in my room." She turned to me, jerking her head back, motioning for me to follow her.
I didn't want to be rude, and my indecision must've shown on my face— Mr. Banks smiled at me, waving a hand. "Go ahead, it was nice meeting you."
"You too," I replied, slipping off my sneakers before heading up after Emily, who was waiting at the top of the stairs. I followed her to her room, where she quickly shut the door.
"Sorry about that."
"Don't be, he seems nice."
"Mmm," she hummed a weak agreement in response, shrugging a shoulder as she sat on the fluffy carpet, resting her back against the foot of her bed. I followed suit, facing her with my back to the French doors.
The next hour was spent perfecting the speech and having her read it out loud so she'd be prepared for the upcoming assembly. After she finished her second read through, she looked up at me for confirmation, eyes silently asking if she'd done okay.
"It was good," I assured her, stretching my legs out in front of me, my feet resting just inches from her crossed legs. "What's your favorite color?"
Her brow furrowed at the unrelated question. "Um, I like burgundy. Why?"
"Well, I was thinking about what you said yesterday about us not really doing small talk. And I realized that there's a lot of things that, even if they are small, I'm curious about."
"Oh. Okay, I'll play. What's yours?"
I gave my answer— orange— and the two of us went back and forth with questions about music, birthdays, TV shows and favorite foods.
"What's it like having siblings?" Emily asked after expressing her love for chocolate ice cream. "I always kind of wished I had one, but I hear they're a pain sometimes."
"They are." We laughed as I raised a shoulder. "But it can be a lot of fun. We don't always get along, though. Hell, I only started wrestling because I wanted to be able to kick Nick's ass when he picked on me."
