Macallan Blake announced her campaign to be the Cannondale School's student body president at the final WAC meeting of the year. Kelsey - our beloved club president - had graciously yielded the floor to her in the final minutes of the meeting for what she'd prefaced as a game changing announcement.
And it was.
Macallan's speech conveyed everything that any aspiring politician would want to convey - she was gracious, prepared, and ambitious to the highest degree of it not coming across as arrogant. Our teammates rallied around her afterward, and her beaming smile lifted my heart in my chest. No one outside of our insular friend group would've guessed that she'd harbored insecurities about running.
That said, Macallan didn't go down without a fight, nor did I think for even one second that she would when I'd encouraged her to cast aside her qualms and run.
That night when I'd returned to my room after speaking to Jameson, I'd allowed myself a small window of wallowing on my bed before mapping out my approach. I'd jotted down my main arguments and counterpoints, which might've been excessive for a conversation with Macallan, but I didn't care. If I didn't plan, I would be planning to fail. I couldn't afford to do that. Not when one of my most cherished friendships hung in the balance.
As I'd spoken to Macallan, I was acutely aware that it was the first time we'd explicitly spoken about her running for student body president, and guilt tied knots in my stomach. That was a big part of why I wouldn't ever claim responsibility for Macallan deciding to run, knowing that all I'd done was remind her of what she could achieve in the face of the bullshit she'd endured. It had only made her stronger and more resolute in the face of conflict. I wasn't so sure if the same went for me.
"Welcome to the first unofficial cabinet meeting of Macallan Blake," Win Petrov began, snapping me out of my reverie. He stood on Macallan's right, but positioned himself slightly behind her as though to keep her in the limelight, the focus of our attention even when he was speaking. "The first debate is scheduled after AP testing for all of the obvious reasons, so until then we're focusing on maximizing Macallan's visibility - posting on the campaign's Instagram, defining her platform, opinion pieces in the school newspaper, campaign flyers. All that good stuff and more. Cannondale needs and wants to know what a Blake presidency would look like."
Win continued his realpolitik, but I tuned him out as my mind revisited something that had become increasingly intriguing to me. For some inexplicable and mesmerizing reason, Win had become the linchpin to Macallan's campaign. He was omnipresent and irreplaceable. And he'd made damn sure of that.
As I averted my gaze away from Win, I noticed that I wasn't the only one preoccupied with his presence. Gianna appeared to be watching Win very closely, her winged eyeliner intensifying the sharpness of her gaze as she stood beside me with her arms folded in front of her chest.
"It just seems a bit odd, don't you think?" I asked in a quiet musing voice.
Gianna flicked her gaze over to me, cocking one of her perfect eyebrows in a way that was almost jarring. "What seems a bit odd?"
I glanced around the room and ruled that no one was paying us any attention. "Win Petrov is obsessed with Macallan's campaign. I feel like I'm an extra in The Politician."
She rolled her eyes. "He's not obsessing, and you definitely wouldn't be an extra."
"Thanks," I scoffed. "What do you think he's doing, then?''
"Helping?"
"It's more than that," I insisted, speaking in a hushed tone as I subtly jerked my head in Win's direction. "He's bending over backwards for Macallan. I mean, you'd think he's in love with her or something."
"Well, maybe he is," Gianna smirked, to which I returned with an unimpressed scowl. She sighed before continuing in a whisper, "This campaign is a good thing for everyone, especially for Macallan. Ironically, Macallan hitting Grayson knocked her down. She got blamed. But winning the presidency will fix that. It'll fix everything."
"A school leadership position doesn't erase months of cyberbullying."
"This is a good thing," Gianna repeated. "Let's be happy about it."
"I am happy about the campaign." I rubbed my temples. This conversation was on the verge of giving me a headache. Why weren't my friends equally skeptical of Win's enthusiasm? "I just don't understand Win's motivations."
"Maybe we don't need to understand," she urged. "Why can't we just let things be?"
Letting things be was far easier said than done, but I didn't tell Gianna that. Instead, I offered a tight smile and forced myself to tune back into Win's political marching orders. Besides, it was becoming increasingly clear to me that the only person who could shed light on this subject was the subject himself.
Win Petrov and I needed to have a proper chat, but I would hold my tongue until a convenient time presented itself. It would be selfish of me to corner him out now just as Macallan's campaign was kicking off. He was the linchpin. I couldn't risk sabotaging the campaign even if questions burned inside me.
I needed Macallan to win the election, and there was everything left to play for.
✘ ✘ ✘
The Cannondale-Silvermine girls lacrosse rivalry was much like an epic movie franchise that never seemed to end. Part one occurred during the regular season and part two during the conference playoffs. In the 2021 edition, Silvermine emerged victorious, the same way it had in the championship last season when we lost in overtime. So even though Cannondale ranked as No. 2 in the conference this season, we would be the underdogs if we met Silvermine in the play-offs. We had one more regular season game before getting a week off from games and matching up against one of the lower-ranked teams in the first elimination round.
"A win in the regular season against Silvermine would've been awesome for us, but that wasn't the final chapter," Delaney said in our team huddle after an intense practice that had ended in wind-sprints while wearing our gear and cradling our lacrosse sticks. The WAC meeting we'd had earlier felt like a lifetime ago. "We're going to give it our all at each practice and every game we have left this season. We can win this championship, but that win won't happen because of what we do in those fifty minutes. Everything that we do between now and then matters. It all matters."
"Hear, hear!" Shay shouted, standing beside Delaney in the huddle. "I refuse to graduate without winning another title."
"Well now we have no choice but to win," Kelsey chimed in. "Shay won't go to Northwestern if we don't win, and she needs to experience winter in Chicago."
Kelsey's comment earned a few breathy chuckles, but Coach Mayer subtly clearing her throat immediately collected our attention.
"I'm proud of everyone here, and you should be too," Coach said. "Blue Wave on three. 1-2-3!"
"Blue Wave!"
The cheer marked the end of our marathon practice, but Coach Mayer pulled me aside as the huddle disbanded.
"You're rocking that new ponytail, Chan," she said, and her smile brought one out of me. Praise of any kind from Coach Mayer never failed to make pride inflate inside me like a balloon.
I lifted a hand to touch the blunt ends of my short ponytail and grinned. "Thanks, Coach."
"You're also ten draw controls away from rocking a new school record for most draw controls won in a season."
I jolted. "Really?"
Surprise tainted Coach Mayer's chuckle. "Yes, Chandler. Really."
"Wow, I...I must've just lost track," I said, pushing away some of my flyways as I removed my goggles. As I continued to process Coach's words, that balloon of pride inside of me popped. I hadn't just just lost track of my stats, but hadn't been keeping track for quite some time.
Maybe this wouldn't have fazed my teammates, but that wasn't the case for me. Not when I was relentless about keeping track of my stats. I'd get a copy of them after each game and set goals for each relevant category to ensure I always had something to accomplish. Hell, I even had a color-coded Excel spreadsheet.
I'd always been outcome-oriented.
Coach Mayer seemed to catch onto my train of thought and set a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You've had other things on your mind, I'm sure,'' she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. ''I'm aware of some external factors that haven't made this season the smoothest for you, but you've handled it with such maturity, and it hasn't affected your play whatsoever. You have so much to be proud of, Chandler."
While it certainly didn't feel that way, I wasn't about to disagree with Coach or risk crying on the lacrosse field. So instead, I gave her a gracious smile. ''Thank you, that means a lot.''
My friends were organizing their backpacks when I joined them on the sideline, sitting down to unlace my turfs and slip on a pair of trainers.
''I heard Coach compliment your haircut,'' Gianna said as she swept her hair up into an elegant messy bun. ''You've really been raking them in.''
Flinching, I yanked at my laces with a little more force than necessary. ''I suppose,'' I replied, making a grand effort to keep an unwarranted bite out of my voice. ''I mean, I'm not making a big deal out of it. All I did was cut my hair.''
My friends had no idea that I meant this literally, and I planned to keep it that way for the time being.
''And it slays,'' Kelsey said, shouldering her backpack. ''I bet Trip has told you as much, but like, in his charming Trip McKenna way. I can't imagine him saying slay.''
I choked out a laugh as I slipped on my second trainer. "I can't either. But um...he hasn't said anything like that.''
''What do you mean?'' Macallan asked, her lips forming an uncertain smile.
I shrugged. ''I sent Trip a picture after I got it done, and he just...sent a heart.''
''He sent a heart,'' Macallan repeated and shared a quick look with Kelsey that couldn't mean anything good.
''It's fine,'' I insisted, lowering my gaze as I zipped up my backpack and slung on the straps as I stood up. It grounded me, and I focused on keeping my expression neutral. ''As I said, I'm not making a big deal out of it.''
''And that's fine, but Chan...Trip's your boyfriend," Kelsey said, and the emphasis she put on boyfriend sent a shudder through me. ''He should've complimented your hair because it really does slay.''
We arrived outside the athletic facility and I swiveled to face them. Knowing I held their attention, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin almost imperceptibly. ''I appreciate the input, but I have everything under control.''
I'd just had Coach Mayer tell me just how mature and unaffected I was, and I knew that there was more than just some truth to this. I'd maintained my impeccable grades and was on track to smash the school record that I'd set before the end of the regular season. I was fine, and they needed to believe that.
''Okay, yeah, no problem,'' Kelsey said and started tapping the butt of her lacrosse stick against the paved walkway to fill the silence that snaked its way into our quartette.
''My junior babies!''
We collectively wheeled around to see Shay waving at us as she walked beside Delaney. They'd removed their practice pinnies and had their respective future university logos on their t-shirts - Northwestern and Yale.
''My senior icons!'' Macallan called out, her smile radiant. "Please tell me your legs are as wobbly as mine right now because these three are either impossibly fit or just really good at hiding their pain.''
''Could be both,'' Shay quipped and playfully jabbed the head of her lacrosse stick at me. ''Chan, you're inspiring me to enter my short hair era after graduation. It's totally essential for having a hot girl summer.''
My nails dug into my palm as I fabricated a smile. ''Thanks, Shay, but I'm sure you'd have a hot girl summer regardless of your hair length.''
''We're getting dinner at 7:30 if you want to join,'' Delaney said. ''We'd go sooner, but I have a meeting with Vale and his beloved boys' lacrosse captains.''
''We'll be there,'' Kelsey replied, apparently speaking for all of us, which wasn't the case. She'd seemingly missed my comment about getting dinner with Trip tonight, which we'd planned for 7:30.
''What's the meeting for?'' I asked as casually as I could. While I would never pretend to know Trip's whereabouts on campus at all times, I typically knew his schedule and typically mentioned anything about Vale treating him like his protege. But apparently, nothing was adhering to what was typical for us.
''Nothing too interesting,'' Delaney replied. When she didn't elaborate, I realized she was being intentionally vague. This was one of those rare times when she made her status as captain abundantly clear. There were things that she knew that we didn't, and she would keep it that way.
The attention that our team received typically favored Kelsey and me because we were consistently scoring the most goals and that just so happened to be what garnered the most attention. Delaney would make spectacular saves that were critical to ensuring our victory, but there was inherently more excitement around goal-scoring.
We were headlines, and she was a footnote.
It was then that a question from the first survey seared through my mind: a captain resigned to being overshadowed.
''I'm sure you'll have a blast,'' Gianna chimed in, sparing me from doing anything more than acknowledging Delaney's short response with a nod. ''See you at 7:30.''
I couldn't hold my tongue any longer and had no reason to do so. ''I'm having dinner with Trip, so I'll join if there's a next time.''
''Damn, but that's cute,'' Shay gushed and threw me a coy smirk. ''You know, I'm pretty sure he had a thing for you for like ages, and-''
''Shay, we've gotta go,'' Delaney cut in, adjusting her hefty goalie bag on her shoulder and started backing away from us. ''If you want to pitch your senior athletes' gala idea to Vale before the meeting, then we best get a move on. Also, I'm sure that Chandler England is very aware of Trip's thing for her.''
I blinked, my jaw momentarily dropping for the second time in the last ten minutes but now for a completely different reason. Delaney's words had a sneaky edge to them that I hadn't expected to be on the receiving end of. But then my shock wore off almost instantaneously, and I collected myself as something much more familiar to me replaced it. Something I knew how to handle.
''Well, if you're pretty sure, then it must be true,'' I retorted with unwavering eye contact. If Delaney's words had a sneaky edge, then mine had the unsubtle sharpness of a butcher's knife. I never once thought I'd speak this way to my captain, but here I was without an ounce of regret weighing me down as I hoped my words cut deep enough to issue a clear warning: back off.
Delaney's face flushed scarlet. ''I didn't mean-''
''Chandler has always been super self-aware,'' Macallan quickly swooped in, linking an arm through one of mine. ''Good luck with Vale. We'll see you guys later!''
Macallan steered us forward with purpose as Gianna and Kelsey issued their parting words before catching up. I half-expected one of them to comment on what had just transpired, but they didn't. Instead, Gianna initiated a conversation about the NESCAC scouts who planned to attend our next game and simply talking about our collegiate futures made me feel better.
It was a way forward. It was also a way out.
✘ ✘ ✘
#GOTV for Macallan Blake 🤍
special thank you to the Blake Campaign's graphic designer moonraess