We decide on Virginia's diner for our campaign meeting. It's one of the only diners in Archbury that serves decent chili cheese fries, but that's not why it's my favorite. Every Sunday morning, Dad would take Mom and me out for pancakes and waffles, and he'd let me pick a song on the jukebox. Our weekend breakfasts' stopped when Mom became Mayor, but even now, I still get that thump of excitement whenever I walk in.
I get there early and find a booth by the window, laying my paper and pens on the table. After placing a pen by each seat, I order a vanilla milkshake, open my campaign book, and patiently wait for the others to show. I flick through the Debate section, skimming the notes I'd made last year. Of course, I'd planned this debate long before now, but that was using my old speech. Just like everything else in this book, I will have to rewrite it.
The longer I wait, the harder it is not to obsess over the attacks Chase could hit me with at any moment. Not only does he hate my guts, but he also hates Blake's, which means sooner or later, he'll pull something out that will unravel this campaign; it's only a matter of time.
Thankfully, this is the one place I'd never thought to bring him. He hates diners or anywhere that's not a Michelin star restaurant, so at least I don't have to look at this decor and have it tainted by his memory. I get to my feet, cross the room to the old jukebox standing proudly in the corner, and choose My Girl by the Temptations while I wait – Dad's favorite.
The clock on the wall hits three past five, which means Blake and his friends are officially late. I tap my nails impatiently on the table, unsure why I feel so nervous. Maybe because I haven't spent much time with Blake's friends outside of school or his basement. Maybe because ever since my kiss with Blake, it's been impossible not to want to kiss him again.
I slurp down the last of my milkshake and order another. My skin starts to prickle, and I wonder if they're standing me up when the diner door swings open. Liv walks in first, followed by Freddie and a not-so-enthusiastic Kenny, but no Blake. My heart sinks. The trio scans the diner, spots me by the window, and trails down the aisle to our table. I scoot toward the window as Liv slips beside me while the two boys sit opposite.
"Hey," Liv says, picking up the menu. "I'm starving. Ooh, hot dogs."
Freddie elbows Kenny and tells him to move up before dissecting the menu. "Do I want a burger or ribs? To burger or not to burger, that is the question."
"Oh, jeez," Kenny says with a shoulder-heaving sigh. "We both know you'll get the burger. You always get the burger."
Freddie wiggles his eyebrows. "I might switch it up today; you don't know."
"Get the chicken sharing platter," Liv says, pointing it out on the menu. "I'll take a few wings off your hands."
Freddie spends several long seconds making 'hmm' sounds. "Nah, I think I'm gonna go with the burger."
Kenny looks Liv dead in the eye. "I'm going to kill him."
"You know," Freddie says, placing down his menu, "you're pretty dramatic for an introvert."
"What does that even mean?" Kenny asks. "Introverts can't be dramatic?"
"I thought you were all supposed to go around all shy and shit."
Kenny looks at Liv again. "Liv, explain it to him before I kick him."
Liv sighs and leans forward. "Just because someone is an introvert doesn't mean they're shy. It means they can only take a few hours of socialization before needing some alone time. You can be shy but be an extrovert, or you can be confident but be an introvert. You can also be a shy introvert."
"And Kenny falls into which?" Freddie asks, but it's clear he's already lost interest.
"Kenny is more of a shy introvert," she says, "unless around his friends, when he morphs into a confident introvert."
Freddie blinks. I blink too, staring at the trio as if they've just stepped out of a spaceship. After an awkward silence, I say, "Where's Blake?"
"He bailed," Kenny says.
Liv looks up from her menu and glares. "He didn't bail." To me, she sheepishly adds, "He's just not coming – you're stuck with us. Sorry about that."
"Oh," I say, and it's hard to keep the disappointment from my voice. As my campaign captain, he's the one person who should be here. "Did he say why?"
Liv shrugs and looks at Kenny, who sighs and leans forward. "He said he wasn't feeling good. Forced us to come and meet you anyway."
I suddenly feel bad for the murderous thoughts I was starting to have. Worry kicks in, and I gnaw on my nail as the others decide what to eat, hoping Blake's okay. "Well, I guess we should get started then," I say, but then the waitress comes over to take our orders, and another ten minutes goes on ordering what feels like the entire menu. When they're finally finished, I lean across the table and draw a massive bubble on an A3 piece of paper.
Freddie picks up the sparkly purple pen and frowns. "I want the green one."
Liv rolls her eyes and exchanges her green for his purple. I go to speak, but the waitress returns with several milkshakes and promises that our starters are on the way. As the four of them scramble to grab their orders, I straighten out the collar of my sweater.
"Before we get started," I say once they've settled down, "I wanted to say that I really appreciate you guys being here and helping me with this campaign. A fresh pair of eyes is just what this debate needs, and I'm sure you guys have some great ideas to contribute."
"We don't," Freddie says, pointing to Liv, "she does."
I glance at Liv, who sighs so hard that a piece of red hair flutters gently in the breeze. "I don't know much about this presidency stuff, but I was in Debate club a few years ago."
"That's great," I say. "What are your thoughts so far? I didn't get to listen to the other candidate's speeches, so I'm in the dark here."
"Well," she says slowly, which I take as a bad sign, "they were well-planned speeches. Libby focused on Networking and Angela on Healthy Living." She looks up, seemingly knowing what I'm thinking. "You'd think bullying is the most important issue to tackle, right? But you have to think about this from a student's perspective. What are they gaining from your campaign? In Angela's case, she put forward new activities and school trips to promote well-being. That's a huge drawing point for many kids, especially those who would rather go on a trip than be stuck in a classroom. Libby's offer focuses on the reward of the future, which might not work in any other town, but in a town like Archbury where networking and reputation are key, it's a powerful draw."
I run my finger along the edge of my bracelet, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. At times like this, I realize what a calming effect Blake's presence has on me. His casual demeanor often reminds me that I need to relax, which is probably why I'm spiraling. "So what should I do?"
Liv grabs her pen and turns the paper until it's facing her. I lean over her shoulders as she writes down a list of things to remember during the debate. "We need to brainstorm reasons to support your position," she says, "which will pretty much focus on the three Rs of your speech. Each case should have three contentions, and each contention should have a claim, evidence, and refer back to the overall topic."
As we're talking, the waitress comes over with our starters, which means Kenny and Freddie are preoccupied for the next ten minutes, allowing Liv and I to get some work done. We discuss each of my arguments, using our phones to collect evidence on the effects of bullying in the long term. By the time our mains come, we've worked through three A3 pieces of paper. I put them aside to make room for my plate and focus on my fries, which look cheesy and delicious.
"How did you guys end up becoming friends anyway?" I ask.
"Blake and I have been friends since diapers," Freddie says, "and I live next door to Liv." They both look at Kenny and frown. "We have no idea when Kenny joined the fold. One day, he was just there."
I laugh and devour a couple of my fries, but inside I'm praying they won't ask me about my friends, considering I don't have any. Instead, to my horror, they ask me about Blake.
"So, what's that like?" Freddie wants to know. "What with you being complete opposites and all."
I shrug and take my time chomping on fries as a way to avoid this conversation. "I paid him; he helps me with the campaign. It's pretty straightforward."
"I don't know," Freddie says, stealing some of my fries, "he seems pretty different lately. I'm starting to think you're rubbing off on him."
My ears perk up. "Different how?"
"More pleasant. Around you, anyway."
I scoff. "Pleasant and Blake don't belong in the same sentence."
"You'd think," Liv says, but she doesn't elaborate. Instead, she briefly looks at Freddie as if to tell him to be quiet. He falls silent and focuses on demolishing the rest of my fries. I look back at my campaign notes, wondering what exactly Blake has told them. There has to be a reason why they orchestrated that made-up Beat Saber night, some sign Blake gave that told them he liked me, but what if I'm wrong? What if he's just bored or lonely or wanted a way to get under my skin? What if I'm overthinking?
To my relief, the conversation moves onto music, which means I can forget about my complicated liaison with Blake. Liv pulls out her phone, spending a few moments scrolling through her playlist before she selects a song and passes me an earphone.
"I like this song," I say to be kind.
Her face lights up as if I've just offered to donate her my kidney. "The Rudimentals are my favorite band. I can make you a Spotify playlist of songs I think you'll like if you want."
"That sounds great, thanks."
"They're having a concert in a few weeks too. Tickets are cheap because they aren't well-known. Wanna come?" She gestures at the boys, who are talking about some game on VR. "We're all going."
Surprised, I say, "Sure."
Liv finishes off her milkshake as I try not to appear too happy, but the truth is, this is the first time since Libby that I've felt like I actually have friends.
"So, what books are you into?" Liv asks. "Blake says you're a big reader."
My eyes widen. Blake talks about me? "I like romance."
To my surprise, she doesn't react like Blake. She just laughs and opens her kindle app, showing me her collection. My eyes widen; she has the same several books lined up in her kindle that I have on mine. At one point, when we're mid-discussion about a book where a girl falls in love with her boxing coach, the waitress comes over and sets down the bill.
Freddie gets out his wallet and sighs. "Damn, I forgot my card."
Liv stares at Kenny. He opens his wallet and shakes his head too. "Damn," he says. "Me too."
"It's fine," I say, getting out my purse. While it's obvious this is a setup, paying for their food is the least I can do after enlisting their help in my campaign. "My treat."
"No," Liv says, putting an arm out to stop me, "don't let these idiots stitch you up. I'll pay, and you're both–" she says, glaring at them, "–going to pay me back tomorrow."
"You don't have to," I say, but the waitress comes over, and Liv is already putting her card in the machine. When we're ready, we get up and assemble on the street, but I don't see any other cars.
"Where did you park?" I ask.
"We walked," Liv says. "We only live a few blocks away, and Kenny doesn't drive."
"Come on," I say, "I'll drop you home."
She's about to protest, but Freddie slips into the passenger seat before she can even open her mouth. After Liv and Kenny climb in the back, I pull out of the parking space and ask for directions.
"Nice car," Freddie says, leaning back. "Supple leather. Fresh, cotton smell. Ah, this is the life." He reclines even further. "Way better than Liv's beaten-up Honda. I miss Blake's BMW, though. Man, I wish he never sold it."
I'm about to ask why he sold it, but it occurs to me that it was no doubt to pay for his bills. My heart squeezes, and I contemplate whether or not it would look stalkerish to turn up at his basement tonight. "Did Blake say whether or not he was coming to school tomorrow?"
"You know Blake," Freddie says. "He doesn't say much about anything."
I frown and slow for a stoplight. "Can you message him and see how he's doing? I don't have his number."
Freddie looks over his shoulder to catch Liv's eye. "I'll give it to you, and you can text him."
"You don't need to–" but he's grabbing my phone from the dashboard and demanding my thumbprint. I sigh and reach over, unlocking the phone so he can input Blake's number. "If he wanted me to have it, he'd have given it to me."
"Not true," Freddie says, clicking away. "There. I've added us all to a group chat called ROSE FOR PRESIDENT." He smiles and puts the phone back. "You're welcome."
I bite my lip as I pull down a long, narrow road toward Kenny's house. As I get to the driveway, I squash my car between a brick wall and a bramble bush, hoping I haven't scratched the paint. Kenny's house is smaller than Blake's, much smaller, but it's quaint and well-maintained in a way that Blake's isn't. The walls are pale yellow, the roses perfectly trimmed and hedged around the side of the house, and beautiful potted orchids stand proudly either side of the front door.
"Thanks," Kenny says, climbing out, "I appreciate it."
I smile. "No problem."
He closes the door and walks up the porch steps to the house. Pulling a key from out of the Orchids, he opens the door, waves, and disappears inside to the noise of barking and laughter. I reverse back out of the driveway and onto the busy road as Liv directs me to their street. It's not long before I'm pulling outside, killing the engine as Liv reaches over the headrest to hug me.
"Thanks for the ride," she says. "Sorry about the company."
I laugh. "It's fine. Thank you for helping me with the campaign."
"No problemo," Freddie says, opening the door. "See you tomorrow."
"I'll send you the link for the playlist," Liv says, and the pair wave goodbye before flouncing toward their houses.
I sit here for a moment, hands in my lap, watching them retreat inside. This isn't exactly how I'd expected my campaign meeting to go, but as I turn on the engine and start my journey home, I realize I can't stop smiling.
A/N
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What do you think is wrong with Blake?!