Chapter Thirty-Five
OfficialEndeavourHigh: Seniors: hey, if you’re in Beta, vote for Nova!!!!!
By the time the Beta Club election rolls around, I’m strangely confident.
It’s an interesting contrast to my usual ever-present fear, but I’m pretty sure it’s just from how hard we’ve all worked for this.
To no one’s surprise, Hayes is an incredible researcher.
We came up with a questionnaire about stress and surveyed almost the entire population of the school—and the numbers are staggering.
I graciously allowed Bryce to make his speech first. That alone became my greatest source of confidence, because it was nothing.
We were allowed five minutes, and he spoke for maybe thirty seconds.
He said everyone should vote for him, and he gave no more reason than that.
There weren’t even any conflated promises he could never deliver or any flowery words.
Just an expression of his natural charisma, and that was all.
His corner of the room clapped wildly, as if that wasn’t the most pathetic campaign speech in the history of the world.
“Go get ‘em, Novella.” Hayes hands me my extensive notes. And he winks, of course. Hayes has that same natural charisma. But unlike Bryce, he has a brain to back it up with. And a heart.
Mrs. Jacobs nods in my direction, and I make my way over to the front of the room by her desk.
With everyone’s eyes on me, I feel my shoulders roll back and my spine straighten.
This is what I do, and I’ve never felt that as fiercely as I do right now.
Instead of introducing myself or bothering with the pleasantries I sort of hate, I dive right into the facts.
“Most of you were probably asked to fill out a survey last week, either by myself or one of my friends.” I look at them all, my own corner of support.
I wish Piper were here. “According to those self-surveys, nearly eighty percent of us are struggling with burnout, exhaustion, and scholastic self-doubt right now.” The room goes silent.
You could hear a pin drop. “There are a million reasons for that, and I can’t fix those.
But I can help come up with a plan for better support.
I did, actually. It’s right here if you want to read it. ”
I pick up the thick stack of papers that outline my proposal. That’s how you can tell I’m serious about this: I actually used a printer. The stapled packet makes a thud as it hits the table, and it’s still the only sound in the room.
“Our plan includes things like mandatory conferences where we talk about our well-being rather than our grades. Organizing volunteer peer-to-peer counseling. Establishing a mentorship program where the people who graduated from this place and lived to talk about it come back and tell us how they did it. And petitioning the school for a dedicated Endeavor counselor, someone who works with our population specifically—the college’s counseling services aren’t tailored to our needs or our stage of development at all. ”
I see people begin to nod. There’s interest in the eyes watching me.
“The cornerstone of this plan is submitting our proposal to the state Beta Club convention. They have an award for Excellence in School Improvement and winning that means acquiring funding that could make all of this happen.”
I feel Mrs. Jacobs’s gaze. I don’t need to look at her to tell that she’s proud.
Despite that, I so desperately want to end this speech with a low blow, to ask everyone if they’d rather be represented by me or the guy who got caught cheating on his girlfriend in the bathroom.
That’s not particularly presidential behavior, though, so I’ll just watch him lose.
I’m sure that’ll be good enough for Piper too.
I shift my stance, planting my feet and straightening my posture.
I look at Bryce. I look right into his smug face.
“So, if y’all want to waste this opportunity and get nothing accomplished, be my guest.” I chuck my chin in his direction. He quietly seethes. “But if you actually want to make a difference and maybe leave this place better off for the next batch of kids, I think I can help.”
There’s a brief moment of silence, just a heartbeat.
And then the room goes fucking wild.
It’s so sudden and loud that I feel compelled to crawl under the nearest table. My feet take one step back, and my eyes find Mrs. Jacobs. She nods. It’s solemn and subtle, but I see it for the compliment it is.
They’re still clapping as I walk away, back toward Esha, Luke, and Hayes. Luke gives me an overly aggressive high five, and Esha squeezes my shoulder as I slide into my spot in the middle of the group.
“That was awesome,” she whispers.
Hayes rests his palms on my shoulders and pulls me back toward his chest. I feel him press the briefest kiss into the back of my hair.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs.
I turn pink.
It’s time to vote, and thankfully Mrs. Jacobs is a teacher from this century, so we don’t have to pass around paper ballots and wait for her to count them.
I pull out my phone and scan the QR code on the projector screen.
It takes only a few seconds to select Hayes’s name where he sits in a category of his own.
My hands are shaking so badly, I almost vote for Bryce instead of myself!
With my luck, that’d be how he wins. With my one vote.
Mrs. Jacobs watches the votes roll in on the screen.
I stop breathing as she finally announces the freshman, sophomore, and junior reps. She congratulates Hayes on his victory over no one, and I feel him nod behind me.
Then she looks at me, and I know what she’s going to say. It’s in that glint in her eyes. She can’t pick favorites, but I know I’m her favorite. Her mouth turns up in the corner, and it’s like she braces for impact. Hayes’s fingers tighten on my shoulders. Esha grabs one of my hands.
And I win.
The room goes wild again, and I kind of tune it all out.
I truly can’t process anything my senses are detecting right now.
I won, and that’s all that matters. People say congrats, and everyone seems to get closer to me.
I’m still holding my phone, from voting, and to lessen the sensory impact my brain focuses on a notification. Ping.
The email is so short that I can read the whole thing in the notification thumbnail.
“What’s the matter?” Hayes asks. He’s turned me to face him, away from the chaos. “Your face went all white.”
I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts flying around faster than I can keep up. It doesn’t work. Moments pass in our circle of silence in the loud classroom.
“It’s Lowry,” I manage to say at some point. “She wants to meet with me in her office.”