Macallan sat between Kelsey and me on one of the couches in the common room of Roosevelt Hall, holding our hands.

"What time is it?" Macallan's level voice cut through the quiet chatter of the room.

"7:58," Jameson said from where he stood behind the couch. "Alright, everyone please quiet down. When you receive the email from Headmistress Harvey, please don't shout out the results. Thank you."

"Aye-aye, Mr. President!" Delaney called out, then turned her attention to Macallan. "We're already so proud of you, Mac."

Macallan smiled graciously and squeezed my hand as she exhaled deeply. "Two minutes. I can do this."

I squeezed her hand back. "You can."

"I'll refresh your email, then hand it to you," Kelsey said.

Macallan nodded. "Thank you."

While I expected nothing less than remarkable poise and grace from my best friend, a wave of pride washed over me.

If I was awaiting news regarding whether I would become Cannondale's next student body president, I wouldn't want to be in a room full of people. I would want to be in my room with two, maybe three people. That way, if I lost, only the people I trusted with my life would be around to see me lick my wounds.

But that wasn't Macallan.

She knew the election was a zero-sum game, but she was in her element. She liked people. She liked being around people, and didn't mind the attention that naturally accompanied something like running for student body president.

But what I admired the most was that the hardships she'd faced these last few months could have eclipsed her sunlight, and it hadn't. It could've drenched her in darkness, but instead, she learned to shine even brighter.

Not everyone was capable of that.

"It's 9:00," Jameson announced.

Nodding, Macallan released my hand to pick up her phone from the coffee and handed it to Kelsey.

"Refresh it please," she said, delicately folding her hands in her lap.

As I held my breath, my heartbeat seemed to seize my entire body.

I felt it everywhere and swore I felt time itself beating as I thought about everything the three of us had endured as friends during the second half of our junior year at Cannondale. It'd brought us to this moment, to this cusp of uncertain triumph.

As I waited, my gaze swept the common room in what felt like slow motion. It was just crowded enough that I couldn't see everyone, but a sinking feeling settled into my bones, and I just knew. I knew that Trip wouldn't burst through the door with that clever half-smile of his. He wasn't going to be here in time.

"Here it is," Kelsey said, the corners of her eyes smiling as she gave Macllan her phone.

The silence gripping the room had a sound and weight of its own. It swelled and lingered with a heaviness that pressed in from all angles.

"It's me," Macallan breathed out. She looked between Kelsey and I, her blue eyes bright and full of astonishment. "It's me. I won."

She hadn't raised her voice, but the quiet made it seem like she'd used a megaphone.

The celebration commenced instantaneously. Cheers erupted from every corner of the room, and Macallan had just enough time to pass me her phone before Jameson leaned down to hug her.

Grinning, I looked down at the email on Macallan's phone.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Class of 2022,

As the Headmistress of the Cannondale School, it is my pleasure to announce the results of the student government elections. Thank you to all candidates who participated, and to everyone who took part in the democratic process at our renowned school. Please see below for the results.

Student Body President: Macallan Blake

Vice President: Peter Anderson

Treasury: Avery Cole

Secretary: Sawyer Pollak

As per tradition, the end of year assembly will feature the transition from one student government to another.

Kind regards,

Dr Marie E. Harvey

Headmistress of the Cannondale School

Boston, Massachusetts

I shut off Macallan's phone just as she yanked Kelsey and I into a hug.

Despite everything—despite Trip's absence—all I felt was happiness.

I squeezed Macallan tight, desperate to cling to this moment—to feeling like all of the stars had aligned for her. "Congrats, Madam President."

"Nobody deserves this more," Kelsey chimed in.

"I really can't believe it." Macallan wiped her eyes and shook her head as she stood up to face the bulk of the crowd, which earned her another round of applause. "Thank you to everyone for supporting me, and I don't just mean during the campaign. I'm so, so proud and honored to be your next student body president."

As people converged to congratulate Macallan, I extracted myself from the epicenter of attention. I didn't want to risk getting knocked over, causing my knee any further trauma.

Before I could emerge from the thick of it, I ended up standing in front of Win. He wore the kind of self-satisfied smile that I'd seen on the hosts of late night comedy shows when they'd nailed the punchline of their joke.

I couldn't resist smiling at him. "She won."

"Don't act like you ever doubted her."

"You're the one I doubted, but..."

My sentence suspended itself as Trip entered the common room, raindrops clinging to his curls and black windbreaker. The crowd seemed to part for him as he effortlessly navigated the commotion to reach Macallan and Jameson.

When he arrived in front of them, I watched him congratulate Macallan, and hugged both of them. The desire for him to hug me arrived so forcefully that it nearly knocked the wind out of my lungs.

I jerked my focus back to Win, whose eyes had so clearly followed mine across the room because he was looking at me like he could see the fault lines expanding in my heart.

"But like I said before, you did a good thing," I managed to say.

Win shoved his hands into the front pockets of his trousers. "I'm going to be modest and say that I didn't do much, which also happens to be true."

We shared a smile, but our attention quickly shifted over to Kelsey as she approached us, waving something silver and rectangular in one hand. She then wedged herself between us, throwing an arm over each of our shoulders.

"We need to take a picture with Madam President! I brought my digital camera."

"I can take them," Win offered, but his eyes returned to mine. "You'll want to remember this night."

"Thank you, Mr. Campaign Manager." Kelsey pulled away and called Macallan over to us, with Trip and Jameson in tow.

"You're not wrong, Winslow," I told him before they arrived.

Thankfully, Macallan's radiant grin was contagious.

"Congrats again, Mac. You're a star." I pulled her into what was probably her fiftieth hug of the night. As I rested my chin on her shoulder, I met Trip's gaze, and one side of his mouth lifted in an almost smile.

"Thank you. Also, look!" As we let go of each other, Macallan grinned and held her hands out in front of her. "They're not sweaty."

I double high-fived her. "You go girl."

Still grinning, Macallan's eyes finally landed on her campaign manager.

"And Win!" She threw her arms around him, and I couldn't help but notice him momentarily tense up before lightly returning her embrace. "You kicked my ass this entire campaign, but I don't think anyone could've done a better job of it. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure," Win said, then held up his pointer finger as he clarified, "the campaign part, not the ass-kicking."

His remark drew laughs from the group. Kelsey then handed him the camera, and a photo shoot was suddenly underway. Phone cameras also sprung into action, and I quickly lost track of how many pictures I posed for and with whom. There were at least five with our teammates and a few semi-random groupings with girls from our hall.

Just when I thought I could quit smiling, Macallan tugged me into a photo with her, Jameson, and Trip.

Kelsey had reclaimed her camera from Win and directed us to stand in front of one of Macallan's campaign posters.

"Hey," I greeted, wiping some of the lingering raindrops from Trip's shoulder.

"Hi," Trip replied, that half-smile of his tugged at his lips and my heartstrings. "This is really something, isn't it?"

"It is," I agreed as we posed for the photo, with Macallan on my other side. "Let's step out soon, though."

Trip nodded, then looped an arm around my waist and directed his attention to the camera. When I tilted my head up to watch him smile, so charming and brilliant, I couldn't shake the inkling that it was superficial.

✘ ✘ ✘

We took the elevator up to the third floor, standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder. I had my gaze fixed on our distorted reflection in the chrome doors, but felt Trip's stare probing me.

"Our practice ran an hour overtime," he explained, his voice small as though he wanted to ensure it fit into the confined space. "Pearsall had us running two new offensive plays, and didn't let us leave until we got it right. Which is smart. I mean, we have to assume that Silvermine has our film from the semis, and they're too good to not be familiar with our current ones."

"Right, that makes sense," I said, then pressed my lips together in thought. Even though I figured he was just making small talk until we reached my room, the conversation felt out of place.

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open to reveal an empty hallway. Everyone was either downstairs or in their rooms.

The quiet amplified the sound of our shoes against the floor as we walked to my room, and I tried not to focus on my thundering heartbeat. The anticipation I felt now surpassed what I'd felt while waiting for the results of the election.

When I unlocked the door, I let Trip in ahead of me and turned my back on him to close it. The room was unlit save for the fairy lights twinkling around the perimeter of the ceiling, but I could still see my reflection in the mirror mounted on the door.

The exhaustion-induced hollowness carved beneath my eyes and the tension wired in my jaw alarmed me. But even so, I recognized myself. I hadn't yet lost sight of myself, but maybe I'd lost sight of who I was when with Trip.

Inhaling a tight breath, I turned around.

Trip stood beside my bed, one hand clutching one of the rounded wooden posts. "I've spent the last few days trying to figure out what to say to you, and everything I come up with begins and ends with I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked softly as I took a few slow steps forward, setting my key on my desk. I couldn't bring myself to move any faster. There was a tightrope of tension between us, and I couldn't risk falling. Not when the stakes resembled skyscrapers.

"For a lot," Trip said, his grip on the post tightening. "For what you overheard in the locker room. For your ACL. For being scared to let you in when that should've been the very first thing I did."

I was suddenly all too aware of my hands, heavy and trembling at my sides, but I wasn't

sure if it was with restraint or trepidation. Refusing to get distracted, I folded my arms in front of my chest, and pressed my hands against either side of my ribcage.

"I know you wanted to talk sooner, but I wanted to wait until I was back at Cannondale. Until we were together," I told him, and forced a tiny smile. "The walls at home have ears."

"I would've waited as long as you needed me too."

Maybe my mind had started to work against me, but I thought Trip sounded just as defensive as he did sincere. And I wanted to tell him not to be unreasonable, that he wouldn't be content to wait much longer than he already had. Because while patience had never eluded Trip, I knew he wouldn't be content to stay in the dark because this wasn't just about us.

This was about Trip's pride being on trial.

And he could give me his best apology over and over again, but I was there when he let my name follow insult after insult.

But I didn't tell him this. I couldn't, not when my heart was the judge, and had yet to make a ruling.

I finally reached the end of the tightrope, and stood close enough to Trip to see the reflection of the fairy lights in his eyes. They'd enchanted me on the night of our first kiss out in the snow, and they still enchanted me now.

And somehow, his eyes only added insult to injury.

"I don't want you to leave," I breathed out and didn't wait for Trip's response.

I rocked onto my tip-toes and kissed him, and he didn't hesitate to kiss me back. His lips were soft and tasted of rain, making me ache with familiarity and pine for clarity.

As we kissed, I decided that I didn't need to elaborate on what I'd said, but the various continuations of the statement still fired through my mind.

To leave my room. To leave Cannondale. To leave me.

When we broke apart, I stood clutching the damp collar of Trip's windbreaker. But there was nothing I could do to keep him close for much longer. To keep him.

Trip reached up to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and the fragility of his touch startled me. He touched me like I was on the verge of shattering.

"Okay," was all he said before he kissed me again, and it didn't take long for things to grow heavier.

A sensible voice in my head chided me that this wasn't the time to do this, that we desperately needed to talk, but the need to commit the feeling of his lips on mine won out.

✘ ✘ ✘

i love and hate this chapter with my whole heart. it wasn't easy to write, but i'm confident that i got it right after many hours and a few tears. hope you're all hanging in there x