“Sure thing,” she said. “And good luck with the election.”
“Thanks.” I’d need it, I was sure.
In the meantime, I still had to contend with my list of signatures. After services were over a bunch of kids signed the petition for me, which brought me into the low forties, but I still had a handful left to go. What did people even do around here on Friday nights? For the first two weeks I’d gone straight back to my dorm after services to keep up with my reading projects; I imagined I’d need the time for studying once the quarter heated up. But I was feeling cheerful and not in the mood to read about the fall of the Roman Empire, so I texted Chloe.
Hillel went well, I wrote. Forty-two down, eight to go.
You’re so close! she texted back. Get your butt over here and finish the job. She’d attached a picture of a basketball game, which I assumed was taking place right now. As much as I was not excited at the thought of watching sports, I’d definitely be able to finish off my petition. Besides, maybe Hunter would be there. Soccer games didn’t happen at the same time as basketball games, did they?
The basketball gym wasn’t that large, and even with the other team’s fans the stadium wasn’t half full, though there were still enough people that I had to scan the crowd to find Chloe. She was sitting high up in the bleachers with a bunch of girls who all looked like slightly faded photocopies of her. They were wearing pale blue jeans, beige suede booties, and light sweaters in shades of pastel, complete with varying shades of pink lip gloss and pale ribbons woven through their uniformly blond hair. Did they all just run back to their rooms and change as soon as Chloe showed up somewhere or posted a picture of herself online? Or were these bigger trends I was completely oblivious to?
Chloe stood up and pointed as soon as she saw me. “Get up here!” she yelled, and I could hear her over the sounds of the game and the buzz of conversations. She was so bossy, I thought, even as I followed her directions and ascended the bleachers.
As soon as I got to the top she gave me a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She turned to her group of follower-friends—I recognized her roommate Lauren among them—and told them to get out their pens. “You did bring the petition, didn’t you?”
Of course I had. Why else would I put myself through this? The girls passed it around, and in minutes I had enough signatures to get on the ballot. It had been easy, just as Chloe said.
“You going to just stand there, or are you going to sit down and hang out for a while?” Chloe patted the seat next to her, causing one of the followers to scooch down, though she didn’t look too happy about it.
Truthfully, I wanted to go back to my dorm and read, or write in my journal. I couldn’t say I didn’t like Chloe’s friends, since I’d never really spoken to any of them, but there was something about being around such uniform bland blondness that made me feel even more out of place than usual. I’d made peace with my dark, wavy/frizzy hair, my fire-hydrant body that could never pull off the kinds of delicate, willowy outfits Chloe’s crew favored, and I had no desire to change anything about myself. But that didn’t mean I wanted to stay, a bee among the flowers.
Still, they’d helped me out, and I needed to learn how to be more accepting, especially if I was entering the world of politics. “I can hang out.” I sat down next to Chloe, and she gave me a squeeze. I’d never had such affectionate friends before. “Which team is us?” I nodded at the game below.
“We’re the ones in white because we’re the home team.” She was matter-of-fact, as if this were something people just knew, which, I supposed, most people did. I’d never watched any kind of sports before, though; my parents weren’t into sports, and as a consequence Shana and I weren’t either.
I looked over at the scoreboard, where the H number was higher than the V number, though not by much. “We’re winning?”
“For the moment. We’re not very good, but the other team isn’t either. But you don’t really care about this stuff, do you?”
I was trying, but she was right. “Nope.”
“Then let’s not pretend we’re paying attention. The girls are just here because they’re already hot for some of the guys on the team, but that’s not us, right?”
For a second I wondered if she knew how I felt about Hunter. I hadn’t told her, though it would have been nice to be able to talk to her about it; I was too worried she might be into him as well, and then we’d have to deal with the fact that we both liked the same guy and he most likely was only into her. “Right,” I said.
“So let’s talk about what’s important. How did Hillel go? You’ve got all your signatures, so I assume it was okay.”
“All good.” I told her about what everyone wanted, how they didn’t all agree but how I’d realized I might actually be able to help with some of their requests. It had been a good feeling. I didn’t tell her I might have made a new friend; I wasn’t yet ready to share that.
“That’s excellent!” Chloe was so great at making me feel like I’d done a good job. I wondered whether she’d literally been a cheerleader before, whether that’s how she knew so much about sports, if she even did know a lot—I knew so little it was hard to tell. “Hunter and I have been checking in with our groups—the soccer guys all want late-night access to the dining hall so they can get snacks, and the girls want softer lighting in the bathrooms and a better system for receiving packages, since there’s no good shopping around here.” She rolled her eyes. “They’re all delusional. Your stuff is more fun because we might be able to get it done. Now we just need to wait for the next phase.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she said. “Just check in with me when the list of candidates comes out and we can start to have some fun.”
I wondered whether our idea of fun was the same, but I had a feeling I knew the answer.
5.
The next day was our first official club meeting, and I had to figure out how to convince Jo and Wyatt to go along with the plan we’d developed. Chloe, Hunter, and I had agreed on it so readily I didn’t think we’d have trouble, but it seemed weirdly disrespectful that we’d made a plan without Wyatt, given that the group was his brainchild.
We met in the bunker, though thankfully this time the meeting started a lot earlier so we didn’t have to sneak around after curfew. Though we’d had no communication other than to set the time, everyone had taken it upon themselves to bring something with them, and I got a kick out of what each person brought. Wyatt and I had gone with a similar strategy: we’d hoarded snacks from the dining hall. His were mostly salty (chips, nuts, pretzels) while mine were sweet (gummy bears, M&M’s, cookies), but we’d made the obvious choice for scholarship kids who didn’t have a lot of disposable income. Chloe brought a pile of blankets and throw pillows and within ten minutes had turned the sterile bunker into a makeshift living room, though it was way more stylish than my living room at home. Hunter brought board games—Risk, Settlers of Catan, Scrabble—and I was pretty sure he’d done it to get Jo and Wyatt ready for the idea of turning the club into a gaming group, and it was so cute I wanted to make out with him. Though, to be fair, I pretty much always wanted to make out with him.