Have Mercy

23 i'll watch our crown

Gansey still doesn't hear them.

          "Gansey boy! Dick!"

Ronan whirls around, standing face to face with the voice, arms wide and mouth sneering. "Not now, Cheng. The king's a little busy."

Mercy furrows her nose, and says snidely, "Hey, I'm the King here."

Ronan shoots her a look.

          "I wasn't talking to you, Lynch." Henry snaps. "I need someone with a soul."

Scowling, Mercy jams a finger into his chest. "Watch your mouth, Cheng."

Gansey appears at her side, pristine as always, with a pleasant expression. Far more pleasant than the snarl-like curl that Mercy's lips have shifted into. She steps back at the hand on her arm.

          "What can I do for you, Mr. Cheng?" Gansey asks.

Henry throws a hand towards him. "Do you see, Ronan? That is the way you talk to a man. I'm. Glad. You. Asked, Gansey. Look, I need your help. Sign this."

The boy thrusts a clipboard into Gansey's arms. "You want me to vote for the right to vote?"

          "You've grasped the salient point of my position much faster than the rest of our peers. I see why you're always in the newsletter." Henry says. He offers him a pen, then a Sharpie and a pencil when Gansey doesn't immediately take them.

Gansey's expression is pinched, thoughtfully so as he studies the paper in front of him.

          "Gansey, come on," Henry says. "They'll listen to you. Your vote counts double because you're Caucasian with great hair. You're Aglionby's golden boy. The only way you could score more points is if your mom gets that seat."

There's nothing untrue about Henry's words, Mercy faintly thinks as she taps her foot against the concrete, growing significantly more bored by the second.

          "If you sign, we can get a move on." She says.

Gansey looks at her. Mercy shrugs.

Sighing, he accepts the pen from Henry's outstretched hand. "I'll sign, but I want to be exempt from nominations. My plate's full."

Henry rubs his hands together. "Sure thing, old man. Parrish?"

Adam shakes his head coolly.

Henry turns to Mercy.

          "Yeah, fuck off." Mercy says dismissively before he can ask. She's never had interest in the politics of Aglionby Academy, and she isn't planning to begin now.

          "Lynch?" Henry asks.

Ronan's dangerous gaze shifts between him and Gansey. "I thought you said I didn't have a soul."

          "It turns out politics have already eroded my principles." Henry replies.

Taking a larger marker from Henry's small pile, Ronan's mouth quirks viciously as he begins to press it to the paper. In enormous letters and his jagged handwriting, the word ANARCHY is spelt out with precision. Ronan, without much of a care, throws the marker back at Henry. It bounces off his chest, causing Mercy to smile slightly in amusement.

          "Hey!" Henry cries with indignance. "You thug."

          "You asked." Mercy says, slapping a hard hand down on his shoulder with a wicked smile. "Reap what you sow, Cheng." 

          "Democracy's a farce," Ronan adds.

Gansey gives Henry a pity glance. "Sorry, he didn't get enough exercise today. Or there's something wrong with his diet. I'll take him away now."