Checkmate

40| Race to the finish line

Today is the day – the one that will change my life as I know it, though for better or worse, remains to be seen. Still, there is something cathartic about knowing that, one way or another, things will be different tomorrow.

I keep my morning routine simple: nothing fancy, no frills or last-minute desperate attempts to appeal to my audience. At this point in my candidacy, people believe in my campaign – in me – or they don't, and if I've learned anything through all of this, it's that I can't spend my life worrying about what people think. No matter how hard you try, there will always be people who don't like or accept you, and that's not a fault within them or even me; it's just life. The thing that matters – and has only really hit me just now – is whether I can learn to like myself.

With a deep breath, I brush my hair and move to my closet before pulling out my outfit. I lay it on the bed, staring at the black satin shirt I'd picked out with a feeling of uneasiness. I've wanted this for so long that I can't quite believe the day is finally here, and now that it is, it doesn't feel real, like maybe I'll wake up tomorrow, and everything will be back to normal. It's what I'd have wished for a few months ago when everything happened, but now I can't think of anything worse.

After getting changed, I spend a few minutes sitting on the edge of my bed to calm my nerves, but all I can think about is how Blake won't be there today to support me. Despite what happened, he was the one person who got me through this campaign, and now on the day that I'll need him most, he's suspended.

I'm officially on my own.

Still, there's nothing I can do but put on my game face and head downstairs for breakfast. My mother sits at the table, looking somewhat prim in her sleek black jumpsuit. I slink into the seat opposite, watching as she looks up from her phone to shoot me a reassuring smile.

"Morning, honey," she says. "How are you feeling?"

I hesitate as she watches me, her eyes bright with approval. People like my mother probably don't get nervous about these things, but right now, I'm a wreck. The truth is, as hard as I've tried to emulate her confidence, I always fall short. "Nervous," I say at last. "In fact, this is the most nervous I've felt in my life. I feel like I want to be sick."

"Ah." She smiles knowingly and gets to her feet before pulling out some Ginger tea. "Ginger tea is good at settling nerves around elections."

"You get nervous?" I ask.

"Of course," she says, looking over her shoulder. "Anyone who puts themselves out there and claims not to get nervous is either a liar or a psychopath."

Hearing my mother is not this confident, perfect being calms me a little. I sit quietly as she pulls out one of the teabags and puts it into a cup of boiling water before placing it in front of me. Sitting back down, she reaches over and tucks back a strand of my hair. "Drink up," she says. "It'll settle your stomach."

"I don't think anything could settle my stomach right now," but I blow on my cup of tea anyway.

"I know," she says, "but remember that you've worked hard for this, Rose, and regardless of everything, I'm proud of you."

I look up, surprised. My mom doesn't know it, but her words mean everything. "Thank you."

After downing my tea, I scoop my bag off the floor, kiss my mom goodbye, and spend the drive to school reciting two speeches: my winning speech and my losing speech. It's hard to predict which of them I'll have to use, but either way, I'll be ready.

As soon as I pull into the parking lot, I switch off the engine and take another deep breath, pretending for a moment that today is not Election Day; it's just like any other day. It helps get me out of the driver's seat and over to school, but the moment I pass the bike shed, I freeze. I search for Blake, even while knowing he won't be there due to his suspension. Still, as I stand here, I think back to every time I'd met him here and smile. Even with him gone, it's still our place, and no matter what happens, it always will be.