“We’re not the ones who screwed it up,” Chloe said. “That’s on our parents, and their parents, and everyone before them. They just left a mess for us to clean.”
“Sure, but if we don’t clean it, we’re done,” Hunter said. “Just because it isn’t fair doesn’t mean we can pretend it’s not happening.”
I sensed they were about to get into yet another one of their lunchtime debates. “See, here’s the thing—you both love talking about this stuff. I do too. So does Wyatt. I don’t know Jo yet, but if we come up with some way to make thinking about survival fun, then this club can be everything we want. We can get to know each other, have people to hang out with that we like and who aren’t annoying like the Environmental Club, and we can learn some things too, about how to survive both here at Gardner and in the world.”
“I don’t know,” Chloe said. “Who’s to say we won’t be as annoying as the Environmental Club?”
“First of all, we’re just not,” I said. “You already know that. Second, Wyatt started the whole thing because we met at Game Night. What if we made this into a gaming club? Like it would still be about survival, but we’d turn survival into a game. I’ve got a little bit of a competitive streak, and I know you both do too.”
Hunter started nodding. “We could take turns planning. The games could teach us about survival strategies for all sorts of situations. I’d do something about the climate crisis, and you can teach us how to win the internet.”
Chloe narrowed her eyes. “Underestimate me at your peril. I’ll destroy all of you.”
“Don’t count me out so quick,” Hunter said. “I’ve got years of team sports behind me. I hate losing.”
I wanted to chime in with some pithy explanation of my own competitive impulses, but all I could really point to were some vicious family games of Boggle. I invariably beat my father, though he was pretty good given that English wasn’t even his first language, and I still could stomp my sister, though she was getting better very quickly. It was Mom and I who really fought it out, most of the time. I loved that it would never occur to anyone in my family to throw a game; we’d been playing since I was a little kid, and while it used to upset me terribly to lose, my parents considered failure an important lesson. “There will always be people better than you, so you’re going to have to work your hardest all the time,” Mom would say.
I’d been reminded of that Saturday night, when I realized everyone had figured out how to find the bomb shelter a whole lot faster than I had. I may have been a scholarship kid, but that didn’t make me smarter than anyone here.
Chloe let out a dramatic sigh. “It is a little bit of a downer, though, isn’t it? All this worrying?”
How could she not worry? Did she not see what was happening all around her? Maybe the world was different for beautiful blond people who spent their real-life time being perfect online, but it felt like the rest of us were under siege. How could I make her see that? “I mean the world kind of sucks right now, so isn’t that the point?” I asked.
“True, it sucks,” she said, somehow cheerfully. “That’s why we have to make it better. But I don’t intend to spend the whole time here obsessing about the end of the world. We’ve got to mix it up a little. I’ll stay in your club and play your games, but you’ve got to promise me it won’t be all we do.”
“I totally agree,” Hunter said, before taking a bite of his sandwich. It was becoming a ritual, watching Hunter concoct and ingest his horrific lunch, a rotating mélange of pinkish deli meats, orange and yellow cheeses, colorful condiments, and crushed chips of some kind, all stuffed into a foot-long grinder roll. I no longer tried to guess any of the contents except for the chips; today’s appeared to be Cool Ranch Doritos, based on the smell.
“Well, then, let’s talk about what else you have planned. Hunter, I know you’ve got soccer, but is that it? Are you sure about ditching the Environmental Club?” Chloe leaned forward while at the same time tossing her hair back as if she were in a shampoo commercial. I wondered whether she’d practiced that move at home.
Hunter frowned. “They’re the worst,” he said. “I don’t know, I’ve got to find something else, at least for college apps.”
“I’m good,” I said. “Between the club and Hillel I’ve got enough, I think. And I’ll need time to study.”
“Hillel?” Hunter asked.
I was so used to spending most of my time with Jewish people that I’d forgotten not everyone would know what Hillel was. “It’s a group to organize Jewish kids in schools. Mostly colleges, but they have a branch here. It’s where I go for dinner and services on Friday nights.”
I waited for one of them to say something about me being super religious and started getting anxious at the thought of trying to explain, but Hunter just nodded. “Cool.”
“I don’t think it’s enough,” Chloe said. “Our club has just five people, and how many kids are in Hillel? Like fifty?”
“More like twenty,” I admitted, and I wasn’t even sure how long they’d all keep coming to Friday-night dinners. “But I don’t see why I need to be in big groups. It’s not like colleges are going to care.”
“I’m not talking about college. I’m talking about influence,” Chloe said. “I’ve decided the two of you should run for student council.” She laughed when we both shot her the same glare. “Oh, come on. You both stepped up right away to save the world but you can’t imagine saving our class from having loser reps?”
“Who cares if they’re losers?” I asked. “What do they even do, anyway?”
“Does it matter? The whole point is that you’d get to see how government works from the inside—isn’t that your whole thing, learning about how governments work? And you”—she turned to Hunter now—“you’re applying to law school. It’s either student council or Debate Club for you, if you want to be smart about it.”
Chloe could be very convincing when she wanted to be. “Why wouldn’t you run? It seems like you’ve already got half the school under your thumb as it is.” It was true—we hadn’t even been at school a month and already girls were imitating Chloe’s hairstyles, her makeup choices, her clothes. The Chloe Burns look, they called it. There was that group of girls our year who seemed to float around her like butterflies, leaving her alone only at lunch; she must have directed them to stay away when she was with Hunter and me.
“Exactly,” she said. “I’ve already found ways to exert my influence if I want. Now you both need an outlet.” There were so many assumptions built into that statement I didn’t know where to start, but Chloe didn’t give me a chance to open my mouth. “I’ll be the campaign manager for both of you. I need that kind of experience for my own résumé, especially if I want to go to business school someday. We’ll make this as painless as possible, I promise. We’ll start next week.”
A chance to spend even more time with Hunter, even if Chloe would be there too? I wasn’t about to pass that up. Chloe wanted to have strategy sessions once a week, so we agreed on Tuesdays. The rest of the weekdays were reserved for studying, Friday night was for Hillel, and Saturdays were for the club, though we’d agreed at our first meeting that we’d vary whether we met during the day or at night. That meant Sunday was the only day I truly had to myself, and I had my weekly call with my parents in the afternoon.