May Parker's Guide to Winning the Election

Tip #2: Take Advantage of Your Opportunities

The clock chimes seven A.M., but I've been up since five. After the party, I found it hard to fall asleep and with the impending doom of my senior year looming over me, I spent most of the night tossing, turning and recalculating everything I'd need to do to avoid the wrath of my parents. I'm now standing in the kitchen, stirring creamer into my coffee and tuning out Mr. Edwards' last-minute words of advice. I take a sip, my face contorting in disgust as I put some more sugar into the mug.

"Are you even listening to me, May?" Mr. Edwards says irritably, taking the spoon from me mid-stir.

"It's the same thing you always tell me: do my work, hang out with the good crowd and kiss ass, so I can get into a good university and bring my family honor." I sigh and take a sip of my coffee. It tastes bad, but it's enough to wake me up. Mr. Edwards rolls his eyes and drops the spoon in the sink where it clangs against the metal basin.

"May, this is your senior year and it's important that you maintain a good face, especially with your father's reelection campaign coming up."

"You act as if I've never been through a campaign." I snap, setting my unfinished mug of coffee in the sink. "I know how these things work, Mr. Edwards, I know what I have to do to keep my parents in office; there's nothing new you can tell me. You may have a degree in keeping up face, but this has been my life, my entire life and by seventeen years old, I damn well know what to do."

"These are the kind of outbursts I don't want to see." Mr. Edwards says in his authoritative voice.

"You don't get it do you?" I say and sling my bag over my shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mr. Edwards calls after me as I walk towards the door.

"To join a prostitution ring." I call back sarcastically. "Maybe marry a meth dealer; I haven't decided yet."

"This isn't a joke, May Parker." Mr. Edwards glares at me as he leans against the kitchen doorway.

"Who said I was joking?" I give him a challenging look, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You better keep those snarky comments to yourself or there will be hell to pay."

"I'm already living in hell, so it wouldn't make much difference would it?"

"I mean it."

"I'm late to school." I say, grabbing my blazer from the hook by the door. "So, unless you have anything vitally important to tell me. I really need to go."

"Don't embarrass me or your parents."

"I make no promises."

"And don't forget to sign up for the school election."

"Wouldn't miss if for the world. Am I dismissed?" I ask, maintaining eye contact with him. He nods and I walk out the door, making the long trek around the circular driveway to the car my parents bought me as a gift in sophomore year. I unlock it and slip into the front seat of my BMW convertible. As much as I like having a car of my own, I resent how upper-class and snobby it is. Everyone at my school drives one of these; it has no character and it makes me seem even more stuck up than my two political parents do.

Half an hour of driving and a few detours later, I arrive at school and pull into a parking space with less than five minutes to spare. I grab my bag and blazer from the passenger seat before getting out and locking the door. I slip my arms through the stiff material of my navy blazer as I make my way to the front doors of Mount Forrest Academy. I adjust the gold buttons on the front and check myself to make sure I'm not neglecting any part of the strict dress code. The last thing I need is to draw attention to myself. I sigh and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, slipping inside the solid oak doors to find the hallway already crowded.

The bell rings in the distance and I melt into the crowd of rushing students, a sea of navy blazers and tan khakis blurring together. I peel off about halfway down the hallway, taking a seat in the back of my AP English class. I pull out my notebook and a pencil as the morning announcements come on.

"Good morning, students and welcome back to another year at Mount Forrest Academy. I'm excited for all that lies ahead and I hope you all are too." The principal, Ms. Merriweather, says as the sounds of shuffling paper come across the intercom. "Now, I have a few announcements. Club sign-ups are posted on the board next to the front office and sports physicals are due at the end of the month if you wish to participate in winter sports. As usual, the library and courtyard will be open until four P.M. Like last year, phones are prohibited from the first bell until the final bell; if one is seen, it will be confiscated."

Students groan and slip their phones into their bags as Ms. Merriweather continues to talk. "Now, my final announcement is in regards to the school election. As you all know, we take our election here very seriously and as such, we value punctuality. If you wish to run for office, fill out the forms and have them turned in to me by eight A.M. on Friday morning. That is all for today. Welcome back to another great school year; go lions!" The principal signs off, a silence falling in the room as my teacher turns his back to us. Using chalk, he writes the date and the title of today's lesson, prompting us to pull out our summer reading assignments.

~~~~~

The final bell of the day rings, the sounds of students shoving papers in their bags and breathing sighs of relief as they make their way out of the school fill my ears. How blissful it must be to not be a Parker...I think as I make my way down the hallway, my best friend, Riley, just a few paces behind me. We finally make it to the bulletin board by the front office, its paper-cluttered cork surface holding my fate: the school election. My eyes zero in on the sign-up sheet, my fingers poised to grab the pen, but someone beats me to it. A group of guys crowd around the sheet, forcing me to the outskirts while their leader, a boy with brown hair and a mischievous grin, signs his name. When he's done, he turns to me, holding out the pen with an insipid smirk playing on his lips.

I take it from him, my piercing gaze never leaving his green eyes. I march straight over to the sign-up sheet and sign my name with a flourish. His friends whistle as I march back over to Riley. Their leader takes a look at my name, his eyebrow raised. "Parker, huh? Why do I know that name?"

"Because my family owns this position." I reply, crossing my arms with a grin. "It's been in my family longer than you've been in existence."

"Then I guess that means it's time for a change." He says, taking a step closer to me.

"No, it means the presidency has my name on it." I reply, maintaining eye contact with him.

"Then I guess this is game on, Princess." He says, holding out his hand. "I'm Trip."

"And I'm your worst nightmare." I reply, shaking his hand.

"In that case, I'm in for a treat." Trip grins, dropping my hand.

"You just keep thinking that way." I wink and grab Riley, leading him back down the hallway and out the door. I hear Trip and his friends chuckle from down the hallway as Riley and I walk out to my car. The locks click and we slip into our respective seats. I buckle my seat belt and put on a pair of sunglasses as I back out of the parking space.

"Looks like we have our work cut out for us." Riley says with a grin.

"Don't flatter him. This is in my DNA." I punch his shoulder as I round the corner, pulling onto the main road.

"Well, you are nothing if not modest." Riley jokes, setting his bag down on the ground.

"It's one of my better qualities." I smirk as I continue driving towards my house.

"So, campaign prep?" He asks, even though he already knows the answer.

"Welcome to hell, my friend."

"Somehow I don't think I know what I've signed up for." Riley sighs.

"You don't even know the half of it." I smirk, pulling into my driveway.