"May, we should start the rally around noon. It's early enough to not interrupt the day, but late enough so we don't inconvenience anyone by obligating them to wake up early." Riley says, twirling a pencil in between his fingers at my campaign meeting the next afternoon.

"What are we going to do at this rally?" Anna, my social media consultant, asks as she flips through her clipboard of notes. "I need to know how to advertise it on your social media pages."

"There's going to be food, May's going to do a speech, there will be a suggestion box for people to voice their concerns and they can just get to know May." Riley says, taking control of the conversation. "It's so they all feel included in her campaign and so that she can gauge what she needs to work on."

"The popular kids aren't going to come unless there's booze." I mutter, my face contorting in disgust as I think about the task at hand.

"May, this is the problem. You can't prejudge them. You can't generalize about them; that will force them away from you. You have to take each person as they are; treat them as an individual instead as part of the group and really listen to their concerns. All it takes is a few people to flip the vote in your favor." Riley explains as if he's been doing this all his life.

"The problem is getting them to come." Anna replies, taking my side. "May is right; we need something to pull them to her rally because if they're already voting for Trip then they have no reason to go to a rally for May Parker."

"Okay, that's a fair point." Riley concedes with a sigh. "Any ideas to get them to come?"

"The artist group has a few local bands that might be willing to play. We could market the rally as a backyard concert and just have May do the speech at the end. We should just cast it as a party, no political motivations whatsoever. People will be more likely to come if they think they'll have fun." Anna says, rustling the papers on her clipboard.

"Get back to me when you have them on board. Until then just keep up with the platform marketing and everyone else keep those attack ads cranking. I need more than half my competition out of the way by the next round." I say as I stand up, ready for the meeting to end. My team nods and Riley releases me with a wave of his hand. The bell for the end of lunch rings. I grab my bag and melt into the crowd of students as I head back to my class. I take a seat in the back of the classroom as the rest of the students file into the room.

~~~~~

"May, you're not going to believe this..." Riley says, his voice being drowned out by the background noises on his end of the phone conversation.

"I don't need anymore bad news, Riley. I already have to hang out with the populars on Saturday." I reply, hiking my bag up on my shoulder and elbowing my way through the crowd of students rushing to get out of the school.

"Then don't look at your campaign posters." Riley warns.

"He didn't..." I shudder, praying Riley won't say what I know he's about to.

"Every single one of them."

"Damn it." I say, turning sharply to look at one of the posters I'd hung up yesterday. Its once pristine surface is now defaced by obscene drawings and the words 'Vote for Trip' scrawled in black sharpie. My school picture now has a large mustache on it and my eyes are colored over. My blood boils as I tear it off the wall, clenching it angrily in my fists. I march down the hallway, shoving my phone in my bag as I search for the culprit. I find him and his group of idiots standing near the door, laughing about some inane matter as if they don't know what they've done to me.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I walk right into the middle of their group. Trip sees me, his eyes going from my glare to the poster in my hand and back again. A smirk spread across his lips, validating my anger. I shove the poster down his shirt, much to the amusement of his friends. I continue to hold onto the front of his shirt and he continues to grin as his friends laugh themselves to death in the corner. "So, you wanna play dirty?" I ask, my eyes glaring daggers at him.

"No, but apparently you want to." He smirks, not bothered in the slightest by me holding onto his shirt.

"I'm gonna make you regret you ever entered into this race." I mutter with disgust as I let go of his shirt.

"Try, baby girl, I dare you." Trip whispers, leaning in close to me.

"This is a game you don't want to play." I say and walk away, dialing Riley's number as I make my way to my car. "Riley, meet me at the drug store. It's time to teach Khaki-Casanova how this game is played."

~~~~~

I'm seated in my campaign headquarters with Riley and the rest of my team, my counterattack already in motion. I told Trip that he'd regret entering this race and if all goes according to plan, he should be dropping out of the race by the end of the day. Riley types my next speech on the computer, asking me periodically for edits and such. Anna uses a photo-editing program to create my next attack ad and the rest of my team continues their marketing research on the most-talked about issues at school. Riley is about to email me my speech when Trip storms into the journalism room, surprisingly friendless and uncharacteristically angry. I guess he saw my counterattack...

"Is this your idea of a joke?" He fumes, dropping a condom package on the desk in front of me. One side says 'just to make sure you don't catch anything from Trip' and the other says 'vote for May; it's a safe practice'. Riley and I had stayed up most of the night making them and then spent the first half hour this morning taping them all over Trip's campaign posters. It was a stroke of genius on my part and seeing Trip's seething rage made it all worthwhile.

"No, it's my idea of getting the upper hand." I grin and stand up, tossing the condom at him. "And I think it worked, pretty boy."

"You've got a sick, twisted mind, May Parker."

"Thanks, now, unless you have any other vitally important comments, I do have a campaign to plan and your presence kind of interrupts that." I say, dismissing him with a wave of my hand.

"You're gonna regret this."

"Somehow, I don't think I will." I shrug and shoo him out of the room. I watch him walk down the hallway and then I slam the door shut. My team applauds me and I take a bow, basking in the glow of their appreciation. I sit down and pull a clipboard of notes towards me. "We haven't won yet, but we're one step closer." I grin and Riley nods in agreement as we continue our planning session.

~~~~~

"May, I know you don't want anymore bad news, but it would seem that Trip didn't get the message attached to your counterattack." Riley says over the phone as I walk into school the next day.

"Khaki-Casanova really doesn't know how to take a hint." I roll my eyes as I elbow my way through the crowd of students that are taking their sweet time to walk down the hallway. "What did he do this time?"

"Look on any wall. They're all over the school." Riley says, the line falling silent as he waits for me to find the counterattack. My eyes zero in on a picture of me shoving the vandalized poster down Trip's shirt. This new poster reads 'If May wants Trip, shouldn't you too? Vote for Trip McCan, May is'. My blood boils as I tear the cheap attack off the wall. I shove it in my bag and march down the hallway to my Ap English class, trying my best to calm down. He's going to get what's coming to him.

~~~~~

The bell rings and I march out of the journalism room, my mind still occupied by Trip's crumpled up poster in the bottom of my bag. My oxfords make a loud noise as I practically stomp across the linoleum floor. I'm about to go out to my car when I see Trip and his football team mates lining up for practice. Trip is at the end of the line, stretching and talking with those ahead of him. Before my mind can catch up with my feet, I'm standing in front of him. He looks up, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Well played." I say, holding out my hand.

"Why thank you." He says, shaking my hand firmly.

"That wasn't a compliment; it was a warning that I'm going to shatter your ego even more the next time." I smile sweetly as I let go of his hand.

"That's cute; you really do want me, don't you..." He grins, leaning against the locker behind him.

"If I wanted you, it'd look a little more like this." I say and lean in close to his ear. "The game is only beginning." I whisper in a breathy tone before walking away. I hear a breath escape his lips, causing me to grin. I have him wrapped around my little finger. This is going to be fun.