The Election Connection

Chapter 1

"I made it!" he says as he steps through the door, just as the bell rings. His friends give him high fives and smirks. Ugh, I can't stand his disregard for the rules. He slides into his desk next to mine. This is it, my least favorite class of the day: science. I don't dislike science, per se; It's just Noah I can't stand. Noah Ackerman. Bane of my existence. Ever since Sixth Grade, when he ignored me constantly. You may be thinking,
"Beck, you're a sophomore, it's been almost five years!"
Okay, sure, that's a good point, but it's more than him ignoring me. In the school ecosystem, Noah is the king of the jocks and the sporty kids, while I'm the king of the nerds and the brainiacs. While he runs around as the school's star athlete, I run the trivia team and math club. Naturally, we are mortal enemies. In fact, we've established a game we play. It's called Hope You Fail. It's inspired by the first time we sat next to each other in this class.
It was the first day of school, and everyone had been cheering Noah on about the school's football game that was happening in a couple of days, so I had whispered,
"Hope you lose the game."
When Mrs. Bodér was assigning seats and his name was called for the desk to my right, my stomach dropped. I guess he had heard me because he sat down next to me and said,
"Hope you lose your trivia tournament."
Mrs. Bodér begins to speak, snapping me out of my memories.
"Mr. Ackerman, that was a close call," she says. "Please, be a little warier of the clock."
She begins her lecture on bacteria, and I lean over to Noah.
"Hope you're late next time," I say with a smile, and I go back to taking notes.
~~~~
    As Mrs. Bodér drones on, I look over at Noah. It would be so much easier if he was ugly, but he's actually somewhat decent-looking. He has short, black hair, piercing blue eyes, and dimples that emphasize his huge smile. Not that I see that smile often. He's the school's football team captain and soccer captain, and, if his muscled arms are any indication, he definitely has an incredible physique. I'm startled out of my gazing as the principal makes an announcement.
    "Attention, sophomores! Happy Friday! I have an important announcement. After counting the votes on all your candidate petitions, your two candidates for the upcoming class presidential election are... Beck Murphy...."
I mentally pat myself on the back, though it's no surprise I'm nominated. I'm the king of the nerds. They think I can do so much as president, and they're not wrong. I listen back into the announcement.
"And... Noah Ackerman! Reminder: voting is two weeks away, so get campaigning!"
Noah's friends give him a fist bump, and honestly, I'm not surprised that he's nominated. The sports kids see him as a great leader and trust him to give them "representation," as if being a jock is a minority, but I digress. I glare over at him, and as the bell rings, only one thought races through my mind: It's on.
After grabbing my lunch, I walk to the courtyard, meeting up with Tara on the way. She and I have been friends since 4th grade, and I've always felt a special connection with her, as she too loves competition and books. Her light-brown pink-tipped curls bounce up and down as we walk towards the bench under the tree, where we eat every day.
"Hey, Terrence," one of the basketball players says to Tara, chuckling as he walks away.
I'm about to say something when Tara stops me.
"Beck, it's fine," she says, rolling her eyes behind her thick moss-colored glasses. "It's clearly deliberate. I mean, how can they be 'accidentally' deadnaming me when I've been out for, like, eight years?"
"You're right, you're right," I mutter as I shake my head. We pass the different tables, including Noah's, as make our way to the beautiful birch tree that lies in the middle of the courtyard. We sit down at our usual table and begin to unpack our lunches when Jocelyn makes her way over, her long black hair with cobalt-blue highlights swaying as she walks.
"Hey Joc," Tara affectionately says as she plants a kiss on Jocelyn's lips.
Jocelyn drops her backpack onto the bench next to her and takes out her lunch.
"How lucky am I to have a girlfriend like you?" she smiles lovingly while digging her fork into the bean salad she has in front of her.
"Boo, get a room you guys!" I heckle playfully. "Stop making me the third wheel!"
We resume our eating and keep talking, but soon Jocelyn brings up Principal Lawson's announcement.
"Can't believe you have to go up against Noah," she mentions, shaking her head.
"No surprise that he's nominated, though," I say. "He's a 'popular' kid."
"Yeah, but you have the brains. His plans are probably just to turn every class into gym. Besides, knowing you? You'll work yourself to death planning everything," Tara adds.
"I know I have the brains, but do I have the votes?" I say as lunch wraps up. We throw out our trash and get back to class as a growing feeling of dread fills my stomach.