Checkmate

4| True politician

It takes a few minutes for me to muster the courage to say what I'm thinking. Of course it's absurd, downright insane even. How far must I have fallen to ever consider enlisting the help of Blake? And yet, as I stand here, fiddling with the ends of my hair, that's exactly what I'm thinking of doing.

Before spring break, the thought would never have crossed my mind. It never needed to; this part of the campaign was supposed to be easy, the part I'd have passed with flying colors. One hundred signatures? I'd have gotten that in less than a day, but now the idea is impossible. It turns out my popularity, my ability to speak to anyone and everyone, was all down to Chase. Those people weren't my friends, they didn't admire my drive or killer fashion. They tolerated me.

For him.

Which is why, even though it kills me to admit it, Blake is my last hope. If he can get me enough signatures to enter the running, I'll have a fighting chance. I'll be able to show them I didn't need Chase, that I'm more than capable of winning on my own; I'll be Rose Matthews again.

Turning to Blake, I take a deep breath and try not to grimace. "You do things for money, right?" He doesn't speak, but the subtle twitch of his mouth means I've caught his attention. "Because I'm planning on running for Class President, and I kind of need your help."

Blake almost chokes on his vape. He recovers quickly but fails to hide the upward curl of his lips.

My stare hardens. If my mother were here, she'd say something like, You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, but I've never been one for sweet talk. "Is there something amusing about wanting to run for president?"

"That," he says, "and you thinking I'm the guy to help you do it."

"Why not?"

"Principles?"

"I'm sure you've done worse things for money."

He grins and takes a hit of his vape. "The answer is no."

"I don't get it," I say. "What's so bad about running for Class President that it goes against your principles?"

It's hard to miss his irritation as he blows out the smoke in his mouth. "The whole thing is a popularity contest designed to give those campaigning a sense of validation in their otherwise sad, empty lives. Hey–" he looks over and grins, "–you'll fit right in."

I ignore his jab, mostly because I'm desperate, and desperation can drive a person to dangerous extremes. "All you'd have to do is be my campaign captain and get me the remaining signatures." He doesn't respond, so I try my hand at appealing to his better nature.  "Look, it's not self-obsessed to want to make the school a better place."

"Sure," he says, "if that's why you were doing it, but you're not."

"You think you know me?"

"I know you're willing to fake signatures," he says. "Rose Matthews – a true politician."

The sting of his insult is hard to ignore. "I don't want you to fake them, and I don't care whether or not you believe in my motives. Are you going to help me or not?"

"Not really my area of expertise, princess."

"Fine." I go silent and stare at the wall. Even though I'm trying my hardest not to get upset, I'm on the verge of crying. This was my last hope to becoming Senior Class President. My last hope at proving Chase wrong. But maybe he was right, there's no way I'm winning this campaign without him; all of this was for nothing.

"You're not going to cry, are you?"

"No." But my voice breaks.

His eyes grow black as he looks to the heavens. Maybe he thinks by the time he looks over, I'll have pulled myself together, but he's wrong. He drags his gaze back over my face and clenches his jaw. "If I do this, it'll cost you."