After Frank's year in the limelight, election season at Heller was never quite the same. It could still be considered an election season—there were multiple candidates (all from the club, of course)—but gone was the spectacle, and in its place came real presidential debates, an innovation stolen from UCLA, where questions were asked about club loyalty and proposals for further corrupting the youth were suggested. Harry had volunteered as a campaign officer for the previous two elections, helping ensure the integrity of the polls and that no unauthorized candidates were to sneak themselves onto the ballots; the term "Kayla" had been adopted as a slang term for candidates who stood no chance and were quite frankly an embarrassment to the democratic process if they were let on stage. With this distinguished pedigree in mind, it was suggested that Harry run for secretary, a position befitting his status as a good-hearted, if imperfect club member.

"I think it's going to be a great fit for you, Harry," Daisy pleaded. "Stalin was secretary once, and look where that took him. You should run. There's nothing stopping you."

"I'm not the most qualified candidate at all. I may be an Alpha—I may be a dedicated club member—but some Alphas are more equal than others. The position should go to someone who wants it more."

"But you have to do something more senior. It's our last year—if we don't put our noses to the grindstone now, there's no chance of us getting good positions in college. And after that, what hope do we have of getting good networking done? Consider a deputy position then. Event planning, charity, security, propaganda, anything at all."

"I don't know, Daisy, I have to think about it. Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither was Heller."

"Think about it, please, for me," Daisy said, and she went to class. She had a point: Harry was nowhere near as ambitious as some of the other club members, and had always depended on the charity and good advice of others to get anywhere. Sophomore year, it was then President Jamal who had told him to try stretching wings a little, and then it was President Haneul this year who had urged him to do something new.

"Frank had placed great trust in you, you know that, to rise from your humble roots to become something greater," she had said in her typically lecturesome manner.

"I understand, Madame President, I'm trying. And compared to where I've started, I've risen a lot. If some other people, who unlike me have had certain advantages—even more of a political pedigree, a richer family, better academic sense—have done even more, that is good for them. What is good for one of us is good for all. All that matters is that I'm striving toward my ideal of a good person, and that every day I'm a bit closer."

"You're a good speaker. You should be a speechwriter next year. Secretary will be a good position for you, or if you want something less in the limelight, I think you will be a good fit for the presidential cabinet. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"Thank you, Madame President. I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Harry said, and left her office. Harry truly felt blessed to have so many mentor figures in his life. It reminded him of freshman year, when John had tutored him that fateful fall semester. What had happened to John and Regina anyway (her name still feeling like a splash of lemon juice on his exposed brain)? The last he had heard of Regina, there were rumblings that she and Tom became Alphas once more at the very end of the school year, during prom—whether this was a bit of end-of-the-year amnesty or a political move had been hotly debated, but afterward it became established precedent to make sure all but the worst seniors were at least Gammas by the end of the year. Many petitioned for their careers at Heller to be looked over once more with a forgiving eye, and because good people were always forgiving, these appeals were usually granted. Regina, Tom, and all those figures had become historical by then: it was certain that few of them thought about Heller, and the same applied in the opposite direction. Everyone actually involved with the club—Alan, Jason, and so on—people remembered, and names like Madeline came up occasionally too when the discourse was appropriate. Jason's habit of obsessive record-keeping persisted, and because there was a belief that those who did not study history were doomed to repeat it, much critical analysis was done of the first year of club administration and what came before, not to mention the new stories which unfolded afterward. To say that he had met some of these figures in the flesh during their tenures as students, and not merely if they visited Heller on official business, was one of Harry's greatest accomplishments. He had shaken hands with the Juliet Wong and the Behrooz Ghorbani!

For all the club's talk of history, civilizations rising and falling, and whatever else it claimed to possess as the core of its ideology, what mattered to Harry most was the present, because without the present there was no future. And so he filled out application forms for all the offices the following year he had wanted, and called Daisy again to share the good news:

"I did it, Daisy, I hope you're proud of me."

"Of course I am, Harry, I'm always proud of you. That's what I call Alpha behavior."

"So what positions have you applied to?"

"I'm going to be cheer co-captain next year, and I'm really banking on getting vice president of community activities too. Spreading our love beyond Heller is something that means a lot to me."

"It's nice how there are so many positions and titles available these days. I remember our freshman year, it was a lot harder to get your foot in the door. But now that these dynasties, these legacies have been built, anyone who wants to can be a secretary or vice secretary of something or other. I think you'll be successful."

Harry chanced to run into President Haneul at the play that evening (they were playing Troilus and Cressida, a play he had never heard of before but sounded interesting enough), and as always she had some words of motivation.

"I heard you applied for speechwriter for the presidential cabinet. That's a good position. We're thinking of expanding the position's duties, given that there are really only so many speeches the president needs to give. You'll have the opportunity to mentor freshmen to help them adjust to life at Heller, too. And I know how much that means to you, given that John Zakarian gave you the same warm welcome. What an interesting guy—I remember my freshman year, I asked him for some advice on how to structure an English essay, and he told me to let the words flow as if they were coming from my bladder after I had drunk a large coffee. That was the last time I asked him for advice, but what a wise man."

"He was wise beyond our comprehension. He and the other tutor, Regina, if you ever met her."

"Regina was a traitor! Such a Kayla. Were you not there at the homecoming rally?"

"She was a traitor, yes, but I think she saw the errors in her ways, and that's why she tried so hard to mentor other students."

"It's fitting how she mainly mentored Epsilons. Epsilons should stick to their own kind."

"Epsilons should stick to their own kind," Harry muttered in agreement.

"I'm glad you've found your own path to success, Harry. Enjoy the show," she said, and disappeared into the crowd. Some would give him the side-eye for suggesting anyone could do better than good old Frank the Ineffable, but Harry really thought President Haneul ran a tight ship. If Frank's tenure was characterized by rapid transition and the growing pains that came with, President Jamal's tenure was all about consolidating power, removing anyone who was sympathetic to the old ways of thinking. Loyalties were questioned, and Harry remembered how once he had sat him down and interrogated him about the interactions he'd had with Regina, to see if any traces of her poison remained. He was a tough leader—tougher than Frank at times—but it was needed to steady the club's stance. With those two years being akin to war, President Haneul was thus tasked with the even more challenging task of maintaining the peace—and ensuring that war was no longer a term in anyone's vocabulary.

Many current leaders only had vague memories of the founding class of the club, but just because they had left Heller did not mean they were irrelevant, and Harry found himself as a senior club member interacting more and more with the club graduates, and club diaspora. They brought their successes and failures back to Heller, hoping to inspire the new members to one day take their places. Jason, that controversial figure, had even come to give a brief talk: it was a privilege, they were told, that Jason had deigned to talk to anyone but Frank, Pranav, President Haneul, and the technical support. By then, rumors that Jason had bugged people's stuffed animals had been quashed, and if it were really still true and if it were really still the sort of tactic the club's technical support (their euphemism for the surveillance branch) used to monitor its members, they deserved it anyway and it was for the greater good. Harry would sometimes turn to a freshman or sophomore and say, admiringly, he knew these people to be good people, and not just from rumors that had grown amplified over time but from firsthand experience. They were shining examples for him and every other Tiger.

A few weeks later, word had come in that Harry had secured his desired position. Daisy was the first to congratulate him, somehow learning without him ever having told her:

"You did it! I knew you could! This is why we always listen to Madame President."

"I always could. I never had any doubts."

"You never had any doubts at all, that's right," Daisy cooed. "We should celebrate. Dinner downtown?"

"An excellent idea."

And so after cheer practice, Harry met Daisy at the gate to the athletic field, and together they retraced the steps made by their historical predecessors down the hill into the cooling twilight.

Discussion Questions:

How does the club leadership at UCLA differ from the club leadership remaining at Heller?

Why does this line about entering "the cooling twilight" keep coming up (if you're keeping count, this is the fourth time)? What connection between events is implied from it?

Does Harry seem happy with how things have turned out? Do you think he should be?