Checkmate

36| The truth sets you free

"I had an interesting discussion with Angela's mother at the grocery store earlier," she says, putting her coffee aside. She's using her Mayor voice – calm and clipped with an edge of authority about it.

I feel the blood drain from my face. It's the moment I've spent half my campaign dreading, yet somehow, I'm still not prepared for it. I open my mouth – to say what I don't know – but one look from my mother keeps me silent.

Her eyes stare me down, dark and unwavering. "Angela is campaigning for president."

I swallow, but my mouth feels like sandpaper. Anything I say can and will be used against me. "Really."

"How is Angela campaigning for president when she's your campaign captain?" Mom asks. I go to speak, but she puts out her hand. "Don't answer that; it's rhetorical. Angela's mother was kind enough to inform me that your campaign captain is Blake O'Hare and has been this whole time."

I close my eyes at the mention of his name, unable to stomach it. It's only been one night, a few measly hours since I found out Blake's dark, unforgivable secret, but it feels like a lifetime. I still half expect to head to his basement later, the way I have pretty much every night since this started. To suddenly not have that, to know that I'll never get to kiss him again, makes it feel like I'm suffocating.

"How could you lie to us, Rosebud?" Dad asks. "You've always been so trustworthy and honest."

"Did that boy put you up to this?" Mom asks.

I keep my eyes closed, hoping it will silence them, but no such luck. The questions come faster, each one more accusatory than the last, until finally, I can't take it.

"Blake isn't the reason I lied," I say finally. "You are."

When I open my eyes, it's to my parents looking dumbfounded. They share a look, the kind that suggests I've officially gone insane, and maybe I have, or maybe I've just stopped caring.

"What are you talking about?" Mom asks.

"I'm talking about your expectations of me," I say, throwing my hands up. Maybe if last night hadn't happened, I wouldn't be this upset, but now it's like the pain I'd felt from Blake's betrayal has morphed into anger. Not just at him or my parents, but everything; I'm drowning in it. "You put so much pressure on me to be perfect, but I'm not. I never was, not even before the party and certainly not after. Do you want to know the reason I asked Blake to be my campaign captain? Because no one else would." My voice shakes on the last part, no matter how hard I fight to keep it steady. You'd think I'd be over it by now, but having to relive it hurts just as much.

Mom's mouth opens and closes before settling on a frown. "I'm sure that's not true, Rose. There are hundreds of students at your school–"

"It is true," I snap, and all I can think in my head is Prickly Rose. "People didn't want to know me after what Chase said about me. You can judge Blake all you want, but his support is why I even made it this far."

I see it in her face the moment the illusion shatters. The moment she realizes just how much impact that party had made. I guess she'd convinced herself I was still the same Rose, that my reputation was unblemished, but she sees now she was wrong.

Breath held, I continue to look at her. I should be terrified, but I'm not. There is a freedom that comes from telling the truth, and as she looks at my father, struggling to find the right words for the moment, this weight lifts right off my shoulders.

My mother shakes her head, lips pursed as she processes this. "I don't know what's going on with you, Rose, but I can't tell you how embarrassing it was to go on and on to Angela's mother about how kind it was of Angela to be your campaign captain, only to find out you'd made the whole thing up." She gets to her feet, straightening out her pantsuit as she leans across the table. "The lying stops now, Rose. After the campaign is over, I don't want you hanging around with that boy anymore. He's clearly a bad influence on you."