The bell rings for lunch and I make my way down to the cafeteria, texting Riley and asking him where we should meet for the strategy session. I overhear some Sophomore girls talking outside of the cafeteria in a tight group. One of them looks at me and then they all turn. They begin applauding and I tilt my head, confused by this outpouring of appreciation. "You exposed Trip McCan for who he really is. Thanks for saving us from giving someone like that the title of President."

"Just doing my civic duty." I say, my heart warming because someone can finally see through him.

"I just can't believe he sunk so low as to bribe people to vote for him with dates. It's pathetic." One of the girls mutters, rolling her eyes. "You're more qualified for this than he could ever dream of being."

"Are people actually getting in line for that bribe?" I ask, making my way towards the doors of the cafeteria. I try to look through the window, but find my view blocked by a throng of girls primping themselves while they wait in line for something.

"The smell of desperation is so suffocating in that room that it actually overpowers the smell of the cafeteria food." One of the girls says as she follows her friends down the hallway. I open the door and begin to elbow my way through the line, all of the girls protesting that I can't cut in front of them because they've been waiting forever. Just get out of line; it's simple and you aren't doing yourselves any favors standing here looking desperate.

I finally make my way to the front and find Trip flirting with one of the artists as she signs her name in his appointment book. I take the pen from her and glare harshly. She looks ashamed and allows me to cross out her name as she walks back over to her table on the far side of the cafeteria. "You know, if you wanted a date, May, you could've just asked." I look up and find Trip grinning at me, a 'Vote for Trip' sticker glaring at me from his blazer.

"This is not what the attack ad was supposed to do." I say more to myself than to him.

"Oh, yeah, I've been meaning to thank you for that; my numbers have never been higher."

"Your number of rejections?" I say with mock inquiry, tilting my head.

"Cute,sweetheart" He winks.

"Cute like herpes?" I ask sweetly, setting his pen down in the middle of his book.

"Aw, you're jealous," He pouts, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Jealous isn't even in my vocabulary." I roll my eyes, dismissing the claim with a wave of my hand.

"Really for such an intelligent girl I would've thought you'd know that word..." His voice trails off, but his eyes never leave mine.

"I'm not going to stand here and be insulted by you." I say, turning to walk away.

"You know I would've said yes in a heartbeat." He winks, obviously enjoying our little banter.

"You're such a pretentious ass."

"Those are fighting words, Ms. Parker." He says, leaning forward in his chair.

"No," I reply, placing my hands on the table and looking right at him, our faces only a few inches apart. "But what I say in the next debate will be." I straighten up and turn to the line of girls. "Hope you all enjoy used goods. You may proceed with signing away your dignity." I say and usher them all towards the table. Trip chuckles and shakes his head.

"Well played." He calls after me as I make my way over to Riley and the rest of my campaign team.

~~~~~

"Mom, I don't want to go to this dinner. You don't need me to be there." I groan as my mom tosses another sensible dress at me, imploring me to get ready for another political event.

"Your father and I need your support; we need to look like one big happy family, so you're going to put on this dress and suck it up." My mom says, taking none of my nonsense.

"I've been sucking it up since I was born." I mumble under my breath as I slip out of my comfortable clothes and into the sensible dress that makes me look like a thirty year-old woman. I comb my hair into a low bun and put on my low heels; I look in the mirror and find myself transformed into a much more subdued version of myself. I follow my parents out to the awaiting car where I sit in the back and remain as quiet as can be.

Half an hour later, we pull up in front of a city home on the edge of D.C. Reporters and camera crews are stationed outside, waiting to catch a glimpse of the socialites filing into the reelection dinner. Candidates host these once an election; it's an opportunity for the candidates to all act like they don't hate each other for a night. People converse, the media gets a few pictures, and the facade of basic humanity in politics is maintained. I've been to more of these than I care to count and they've only gotten worse as I've gotten older because with each year comes a new responsibility. When I was little I could get away with so much, but now, I can barely get away with stifling a yawn.

I follow my parents inside and hand my coat to the coat-check guy by the door before joining my family in the main foyer. They're already schmoozing people, their political charm turned up to the max. I hang out near them, waiting until they pull me into the conversation to make themselves look better. I check my watch and stifle a yawn, despite it being only 7 at night. My mom grabs my shoulder, chuckling politely as she pulls me into the conversation.

"May, I'd like to introduce you to the Anderson's son, Jack. He's a senior at Georgetown Prep." My mom says in her teetering voice, pushing me towards a guy who's about a foot taller than me and looks like he walked right off the pages of a Vineyard Vines catalog. He holds out his hand and I shake it firmly, a fake smile plastered on my face. My mom whispers in my ear to keep him company as she walks off with his parents. He gives me a smile and leads me to the formal living room where we sit down, an awkward silence ensuing. I pat my legs and look anywhere, but at him. Much to my chagrin, he doesn't maintain the silence and begins talking about his school and interests. I nod at appropriate times and offer my rehearsed answers until they call us for dinner. Unfortunately, he sits down next to me. I guess, I'm not going to be getting rid of him anytime soon.

~~~~~

It's almost midnight and Jack will not leave me alone. I've run out of excuses to slip away and I swear if he says one more thing to me about crew, my head might explode. Sadly, my mom won't let us part for very long; apparently, he's instrumental in getting her reelected. I'm currently on my third bathroom run of the night and when I come out, I find my mom standing there with her arms crossed. I look at her, but don't say anything. She taps her foot and stares at me as if she's trying to find the words to say.

"You need to go out with Jack Anderson."

"Excuse me?" I say, praying I heard her wrong.

"It'll show the public that we have the ability to get along with people, even our rivals."

"Mom, I know you and dad were married as a political partnership, but that doesn't mean I want to play that game too."

"In our world, relationships are for political gain only, and this will be a significant gain." My mom says, trying to reason with me.

"Mom, don't drag me into your game. I'm fine laying low and giving out rehearsed answers to anyone who asks, but I'm not okay having you pimp me out to all your rivals in the hopes that you'll gain the public's favor."

"Let me rephrase my original claim. You are going out with Jack Anderson. Your father and Mr. Anderson are the front-runners and you two dating would bring favor to both parties in the public eye because it shows we can all get along. We're going to go out surrounded by the press; you will act like you like him and then we'll get in the car and go home. Do we have a deal?" She holds out her hand like she's talking to a colleague instead of to her daughter.

"I want to go home." I say and shake her hand. She nods and pulls me back out to the party. People are beginning to thank the hosts and make their way towards the ornate front doors. My dad and Mr. Anderson are talking with faux-cooperation in the formal living room. Jack is standing on the outskirts of the pair, checking his watch and sighing as the conversation wears on. I look at the ground and compose myself, plastering a fake smile on my face as my eyes meet his. My mom gives me a look as she walks over to my father and gently tells him its time to go. Mr. Anderson agrees and our families walk over to the coat check.

The man at the coat check asks for our tickets and my dad hands over the little slips of paper indicating which coats belong to my family. When he comes back, Jack helps me put on my coat before slipping on his own. My mom gives me an approving look as our two families head for the front door. I can hear the clicking of cameras and the hushed murmurs of reporters that await just beyond the door, waiting to pounce, waiting to paint my mistakes across the front pages of newspapers across the city. The door opens and I'm immediately blinded by a bright flash. I feel Jack grab my hand and lead me down the steps, safely bringing me into a car and far away from the sea of reporters. I blink a few times, my vision swimming before my surroundings come back into focus.

"We'll drive you home, May." Jack says as he tells the driver my address.

"No, I want to go home with my parents." I say, glaring at Jack's profile.

"Your parents know where you are; this was their idea." Jack says as his driver pulls away from the curb, heading back towards my house. I lean back in my seat and stare out the window, my fists clenched in my lap. Of course they orchestrated this; everything about my life is for their political gain.

~~~~~

"Riley, do you have the results of the last polls we took?" I ask on Monday morning as I flip through my thick file of campaign notes.

"Yeah, but nothing's improved very much. You'll have to use the debate on Friday to sway public opinion in your favor." Riley says as he continues to type on his laptop. "I'm not worried, though; Trip will crack under pressure and you'll have everyone wrapped around your finger."

"We better hope so." I sigh and turn to the rest of my campaign team. "How are those attack ads coming? I want all the juniors to drop out of the race by Friday."

"We've got most of the underclassmen ones finished; the juniors are the next on our list." Anna says, pulling a stack of school files towards her.

"Now, back to destroying Trip." I say with a small smile. I look at the board hung on the wall; it's filled with pictures and notes I've taken on him since the beginning of the campaign. It's got his tactics, his headlines and anything I could deduce from his school file. Red string connects various events and ideas for attack ads; it reads like a murder board in a police TV show ironically, except, the only loss in his case is going to be in regards to the election.

"So," I turn with a start when I hear Trip's voice. He's standing in the doorway, holding a newspaper and smirking insipidly.

"Shut it down," I say, addressing my team. They shut down the computers and shove files into bags. I pull a makeshift curtain across the Trip board and cross my arms as I walk confidently over to him. "What brings you here?" I ask, my tone indicating that he's not welcome.

"So, you'd sink to dating your dad's rivals, but not your own?" Trip tilts his head, bringing up the newspaper and blocking his face from my view. "May Parker and Jack Anderson prove that love conquers even the most rigid political rivalries as they are seen exiting the Senatorial Coalition Dinner on Saturday night."

"Well, who's jealous now?" I reply, an amused gleam in my eye.

"Jealous sin't even in my vocabulary." Trip says, mocking my comment from a few days ago.

"There seems to be a lot of words that aren't in your vocabulary." I chuckle, examining my nail beds, showing my lack of interest in the conversation.

"Fraudulent, adjective, going out with someone you don't like because your parents told you to." Trip grins, maintaining eye contact with me. "C'mon, May, you know I'm more fun than him."

"Desperate, adjective, begging your political rival for a date." I smirk, crossing my arms. "There's no political gain in dating you."

"That's harsh." Trip chuckles, setting the newspaper down.

"That's politics, sweetheart, now, if you'll excuse me, I have reputations to ruin."

"Well, just save mine for last." Trip winks as he leaves the room. Riley shuts the door behind him and tosses the newspaper into the recycling bin. We turn on the computers again and I pull the curtain to the side, revealing my Trip board. I pick up the print out of his school file and look down at it fondly. I bite my lip and put the curtain back, setting his notes off to the side. Maybe I can wait a little while...