The evening is dedicated to homework and worrying. I keep looking at the clock, watching the hour hand inch closer to seven as I wonder what trouble Blake is up to. To distract myself, I end up reorganizing the whole of my closet and then re-reading my speech for the fiftieth time. Mom calls me to down to dinner at six – it's pasta tonight – and I take my place opposite her and Dad at the table before picking up my spoon.
Dad spends a few minutes telling us how great the syllabus has been this year and how he can't wait for me to start college next year. Although I'm undecided about where I want to go, he's convinced I'll attend Archbury University, the same as he did and his father before him. I play along, asking about the professors and the syllabus, and all the while, I'm checking my watch and praying that when I get to Blake's house, he won't turn me away.
It's Mom's turn next. She tells us about her plans for Archbury and the upcoming town fair. How she wants to establish a better sense of community among the residents. We nod and smile, congratulating her on her hard work and perseverance, and then it's my turn.
"I'll be going to Angela's tonight," I say. "We're going to look over my speech for Wednesday – I might be home a little late."
"Of course," Mom says before sipping her wine. "She seems like a great campaign captain – better than Chase would have been."
She says it to make me feel better, and it does. "Thanks, Mom."
"You know, you should invite her over here sometime."
My heart stops. I don't say anything for a moment as I take another bite of pasta. "Yeah," I say, "next time."
This seems to satisfy her, but not for long. The pair of them quiz me about how school is going, piano, and whether I'm still keeping up with my projects outside the campaign. By the time I have finished my pasta, I'm exhausted. I head upstairs to change into something a little more comfortable and then take a few minutes to sit on my bed and breathe. As much as I love my parents, sometimes they're a little overbearing.
Not a little, a lot.
***
By the time I get to Blake's house, I've convinced myself to turn back around at least four times. It's hard to tell what I'm about to walk into, whether Blake will have gotten over his anger from this morning or whether our argument was enough to drive him to quit. I gnaw on my nails as I park upfront – a nasty old habit – and debate what's worth more: my pride or becoming class president.
Eventually, when it becomes apparent I'm not going to leave, I get out of the car and walk around the house to the basement's door. Never admit wrongdoing, my mother's words whisper. They'll use it against you. She'd been talking to my father about insurance after a car accident he was in, and she'd turned to me, serious, and said, That goes for life too, Rose. I've remembered it ever since.
Shoulders back, I knock on the door and prepare to argue my case. The door swings open. Blake stands before me, arms folded, eyes dark, his usual defensive stance. Behind him, the air is hazy with smoke.
For about a second, he doesn't look like he's going to let me in, but then he steps aside to give me room, which I take as a good sign. I walk to the counter and turn around to face him, needing to put several feet between us.
"You here for your campaign, or are you here to play detective?" he asks. "It's hard to tell with you."
"You left those things in plain view on the table," I say. "I can't be held responsible for having eyes."
"That's your excuse?" he asks. "You can't help having eyes?"
The longer he stares, the harder my heart pounds. Maybe it's not an airtight excuse, but everything I'd planned to say on the car ride here disappeared from my head. "Yes."
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Checkmate
Teen Fiction[FREE STORY w/ bonus paid chapters] When a scandal hits perfect seventeen-year-old Rose in the run-up to an election, she starts to believe that her dreams of becoming Class President are over. But in the shreds of her reputation is where she meets...
