writing blog!! @lovergirletters - Tumblr Blog

lilian stacy’s boy(best)friend

—chapter five: "easy, westwood."

Finally. Two burdens were done, the essays and the interview. Ezra let out a weary, yet relieved sigh. Maddening it all was.

Having the two scheduled on the same day wasn’t at all in his expectations. He had to skip two Maths sessions, lunch break, and English. And yet, now, he just arrived for Mrs. Eve’s course, Thursdays’ special.

Hinge of the dark oak door gritted as he emerged. He came later than usual, yet the tutor wasn’t there yet. He looked drenched in exhaust, the ocean blue eyes struggled to stay wake.

Lilian watched as he made his way among the tables in such narrow room, all the way beside her. A habit now. Lilian and Ezra, just waiting side by side until the time came right.

She was now used to hearing creaks whenever he sat or moved on the plastic chair, which fought against the towering boy. His sunshine-like warmth used to radiate, seeping across the room. But tonight he was too quiet to ignore.

“Hi,” she began. He turned to her in surprise, as he always greeted her first. “How was the interview?”

“Oh, hey. It was… cool.”

Her brow raised, “You have to be honest.”

“I am,” he replied as he took out his binder, “just almost got killed by the study cases, totally not a big thing.”

She giggled, inviting his pleasant smile.

“Oh, you! What about the essays? Anything different from the earlier years?”

“No, thankfully!”

“Positive?”

He chuckled a little, “I’ll just hope for the best.”

She smiled, “You’re very gentle.”

His brow arched, perfect enough.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re… I don’t know how to say it,” she said, eyes narrowing as she studied his face. He tilted his head a little before leaning in closer.

“Mhm?” He was curious. “What is it?”

Lilian bit her tongue. Suddenly, her ability to speak left her with nothing. And she blamed him for it.

“I was about to say…” she pouted, half nervous. “...that you’re different…” “Oh?”

“I’m different?”

For a moment he was flattered. Being distinguished was something a compliment. But Lilian wasn’t finished yet.

“From Atlas.”

Ezra’s brow furrowed.

Atlas, really?

“He’s… sassy. He kept saying how easy the interview and essays were.”

“Oh.”

Ezra pulled himself back, fidgeting one of his pens. Altering his tone, there was a hint of annoyment, “He’s done all them too?” “Yeah, yesterday,” replied the girl, somehow excited, talking about her long-time friend. “Awfully well too.”

“When I asked him if he’s positive about it, he said yes without a doubt.”

“He sounds confident.”

“He is.”

And that, the conversation ended.

——✮——

I sighed. I set my phone down the moment I was done with those SRA superiors’ messages. This election got my hands full lately. I rummaged through the paper stack just next to my hot cocoa. Where did I put it? Rae said earlier that I had had Nexus Corporation’s sponsorship proposal in last year’s charity concert.

But I didn’t remember having any of it in my room, even in my house. Or perhaps I should ask Atlas? Maybe he had the same copies, since he was in the council's Charity Field.

Today 10.51 PM You: hey You: you still up??

I hoped he was. These superiors really asked me to bring this important document just now? Unacceptable.

I sipped my hot cocoa as I nestled beneath the covers.

Just as I reached half of the mug, my phone, which I used to look up cute cut outs for reference, vibrated.

Today 10.51 PM You: hey You: you still up?? Today 10.56 PM totally a loser: what You: do you have last year’s charity concert sponsorship proposal for Nexus corp.? totally a loser: shit nvm think i’m sleeping rn You: [inserted a sticker] Today 10.58 PM totally a loser: [inserted a document] totally a loser: happy now, DORK???? totally a loser: [inserted a sticker]

I scoffed.

I headed upstairs, to the empty room where the printer was. Rae did ask me for the hardcopy. I stood still at the whirring printing noise as if it was music to my ears.

Something bothered my mind.

That boy… Ezra.

He acted off again the moment I mentioned Atlas earlier. I didn’t even realize it was happening at first. He even reacted the same way when I mentioned Atlas in our interview back then.

Was he jealous?

But, why?

Why did he have to feel that way?

If… If that was true, that it was jealousy—then did that mean he thought I liked Atlas?

“What?” I gasped at myself in utter disbelief, unable to reach his way of thinking. How absurd! Did Ezra not get, possibly understand our friendship? Or how it worked?

Oh, Atlas and I were just friends and I thought it was all too obvious!

But, if that was jealousy…

…did that mean Ezra liked me?

A nervous smile tugged on my lips corners involuntarily. I remembered well, all too well how he thanked me for the cookies.

Atlas never did. It didn’t mean I took offense to it, though. Well, if he thanked me once then I should watch out. Probably as I said, “You’re welcome,” he would stick out his tongue and hit the “Sike!”. I couldn’t let him pull a trick on me!

But Ezra—he was a kind, genuine boy for real.

He was soft and gentle to people.

If I were… were to choose between them, I would go for the blonde over the dark haired without any second thoughts, of course!

Which meant… Ezra and I could date… right?

Smack!

“What am I thinking…” I murmured, slapping the print outs against my face. We got business here. The election, both of us got ourselves’ roles there.

I meant… the three of us.

I stapled the file.

Atlas or Ezra, either of them were to be the president.

Another small smile was set on me.

As much as long I had been friends with that loser, there was something I was certain about.

That Ezra would win this.

Over Atlas.

“Sunshine,” a murmur left my beaming lips.

——✮——

Jolly chatters filled the school’s air. For two days, everyone had been busying themself with preparing the parade. Unfinished costumes, flannel fabrics, scissors, liquid glues, all scattered in the hallway, waiting for teachers to discipline them.

Six out of 11 passed the essays and interview. These candidates were to deliver their speeches. And these excited students were rooting for either of:

Tori-Anne Whitlock from Class 10-7

Atlas Westwood from Class 11-1

Itsuki Tanaka from Class 11-2

Moira Plum from Class 11-2

Ezra McAllister from Class 11-6

Finnegan Gray Jenkins from Class 11-7

The Seven Husbands of Natmily—the Chemistry group named by Lilian, a rip-off of The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid—was beyond contented preparing to support the McAllister. Except for Lilian, since SRA members weren’t allowed to participate in the parade.

And… Mimi.

Far there from the particular crowded area in the corridor, a girl in silver pigtails sat all by herself on the stairs.

Away from everyone, from the cheers.

She was confused. Confused about all this. Her feelings, Lilian’s, and Ezra’s.

Perplexed by the loud thumps banging her chest.

Feeling her tiny, fragile heart gripping anytime he smiled at her, her own best friend.

So her purple irises wandered at the ceilings.

They were decorated; cut outs of the candidates’ characteristics as icons. She could at once point out which one was Ezra’s. A red electric guitar. He once mentioned in Mrs. Eve’s course that he played one. That specific color, too.

Lilian’s favorite, by coincidence, of course.

But then the little girl began thinking.

Was it more than just by chance?

A destiny,

perhaps?

“Am I interrupting their way…?”

“Why the long face?”

Mimi froze, at once her thought was erased away.

That voice.

She lifted her chin, her eyes met teal.

“...Chrissy?”

The golden haired girl tilted her head. Christine Mauve, the chosen Theatre Club girl to play Christine Daaé from the famous Gaston Leroux’s The Phantom of The Opera for their upcoming adaptation of the novel. Pretty in pink, stunning in everything, actually.

She no longer wore the matching hair clips, yet she still had her usual pink knitted cardigan on, like Mimi’s lilac.

It had been so long since seeing her.

For a second, Mimi smiled. She had missed her Chrissy.

“Why aren’t you helping your friends prepare?” Christine asked, assertively as always. She meant Mimi’s Chemistry group. Mimi shook her head.

“...I will, later.”

Christine’s brow arched. She quietly made her way to sit next to her. How odd, scaredy Mimi decided to be all by herself!

“You’re not like your usual self,” began the teal eyed girl, “and I mean, lately, not only today.”

Mimi blinked at her words.

Christine realized?

When nobody did?

“So… what’s wrong?”

Mimi couldn’t help her eyes from watering, glimmering in unshed tears.

“I…” her voice cracked.

Christine, even when they didn’t talk anymore, still cared about her. Even when Mimi herself doubted Christine just because she didn’t reply to her messages; she thought the theatre kid had completely forgotten about their friendship.

And now, she proved she didn’t.

“Let it all out,” said Christine.

Mimi hesitated for a second before forming a simple question.

“...have you ever… have a crush on a boy?”

Christine, sipping on diet juice she bought earlier, nodded.

“Do you now?”

“Well… sort of…”

“Who’s that guy? You’re crying over him?” asked Christine again, which was quickly debunked by Mimi. “No—I’m not crying over him! I’m just…”

But Christine’s eyes widened. Her hand motioned Mimi’s shoulder to face her right in the eyes. Christine put on a weird expression.

“...When did you stop referring yourself “Mimi”?”

Mimi blinked once more at the question. She remembered how rarely she used the terms “I” and “me”. It had always been “Mimi”.

“Oh, right,” she thought, “when?”

“You’re weird,” muttered Christine, her gaze scanning her from head to toe. “Do I?” replied the girl, heart still heavy from her love problems. “You’re not like the Mimi I found crying on the basketball field.”

The silver haired girl laughed lightly.

“You just find it funny,” remarked Christine once more. “If it were the old you, you would just sit there and stare at me dumb.” “I grew up, I guess,” said Mimi.

“Gosh, you’re so weird!” exclaimed Christine. “Really… you… you’re different. Not like Mimi.”

“I’m Michelle…?” smiled Mimi, trying to play it off. Her gaze lowered to the ground. “I know, I do realize I’m slowly changing.”

Mimi sighed.

“Because someone made me.”

A small smile tugged on her lips. Still, the same one the old Mimi had. Christine scoffed softly.

“I’m guessing it’s your crush?”

Mimi didn’t reply. She nodded, slow. With determined yet helpless eyes, just like a person in love.

“You’ve changed.”

“I know,” replied Mimi, now turning her head to Christine. “But I don’t think it’s bad,” she murmured, “right, Chrissy? I’m less slow now… and I can… just be like the others. No longer the innocent, idiot Mimi.”

“Michelle, perhaps someday,” she added, her purple irises shone.

Yet, her face went all plaintive again. “And… now I don’t know what to do… about my feelings—" "You like him because he changed you?” asked Christine, still trying to catch the conversation.

“No, it’s not that, actually…” muttered Mimi, pulling a loose thread from her knitted lilac cardigan. “He… he’s just… uhm…” she mumbled. “He… he’s like… a—a prince!”

Christine began seeing stars.

“Prince?”

The gorgeous golden haired girl laughed a little. At least Mimi was still ridiculous. “Don’t tell me it’s McAllister. Prince Charming of the year, huh? Someone like that’s your type?”

Christine was purely joking, at least before she saw Mimi’s pathetic, still meek eyes.

“Him, really?”

Mimi sat there, still.

“Okay, the problem is?” Christine asked again, simply, rosy lips pursing to her juice straw.

Mimi shut her eyes.

She inhaled, hard.

“Lilian… Lilian liked him… too… And… I think he felt the same way… Lilian… Lilian’s already with him. They… they liked each other. I’m… I am third wheeling, Chrissy!”

Christine didn’t respond at once.

But what came after was nothing like what Mimi expected to hear.

“And?”

“So it’s true there will be debates?!”

On the other corner of the school, The Seven Husbands of Natmily, minus Ezra, Lilian, and Mimi, were preparing goofily striking head masks out of cardboards and metal wires.

Lando nodded. “Heard from the big fours at the canteen.” He was referring to the student council superiors. Squeaking duck tape noises nearly deafened Nat’s remark, “Gosh.”

“Shit’s going to get really sweet,” muttered Xavier. Miles scoffed. “But Ezra’s too good for all that.”

“He might just pull his good old sunshine smile when somebody actually roasted him, God.”

“He’d survive it,” murmured Colton as he bent metal wires. “Do I do this right? These look like they’re about to break in a second. Well, yeah. Our boy would just—stand there, like a stupid good dog, when the shit’s lit. Who knows—probably there will be a fight or something that the other candidates would get expelled, then… it’s a win! For us!”

“Hell, yeah.”

Nat chuckled, “That’s the good ending.” In secrecy, she stole glances at the hallway behind her. All she could see was other girls that joined them to support their dreamy Prince Charming.

But Mimi wasn’t among them.

“Where in the world is Mimi…?” she murmured to herself, heard by Miles beside her.

“She’s been quiet lately,” he muttered, eyes studying Nat’s. Nat turned to him at once. “You realize it too?”

“Are you guys alright?”

“Supposed to be.”

Nat paused mid folding bird origamis.

“Supposed to be,” she repeated, lower voice this time.

Still heard by Miles.

At once, Mimi turned to Christine, eyes wide. Her naturally pale lips parted, but no voice made it through.

That “And?” repeated in her mind like it was the greatest advice she had ever received.

“You’re just… going to give him up now?” Christine asked. “For Lilian?”

Mimi lowered her gaze to the dark parquets.

Christine’s teal eyes were relaxed in an unreadable way. She didn’t stop with her words. Unreadable intention.

“Gosh. So this is what you call a problem? Just because your best friend likes your crush too?”

The words stung Mimi’s tiny heart like a sharp needle.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t even mind that, really. Never, God! Lilian likes him, okay, and? Does it change anything, say, Mimi?”

Right.

Christine was right.

Lilian liked him, probably even before Mimi did.

So what?

Right?

Christine leaned in closer, her hand brushing Mimi’s back.

“You should never let anybody stop you from getting what you want.”

The silver haired girl nodded, slow.

Dumbly.

“You want him, then come and get that boy.”

“He isn’t Lilian’s, Mimi.”

“You’re not third wheeling.”

“You’re just in love.”

And Mimi fell for her dear Chrissy’s spell.

The first best friend she trusted with all her heart.

Yet she failed to point out the faint smile on Christine’s breathtaking features.

More of a smirk.

“Still an idiot, my little Mimi.”

——✩——

It had been a while since Ezra talked to Lilian. He had been very busy practicing his speech at the library, even on his motorbike, like talking to nobody.

Last time encounter was that late evening’s awkward chat in Mrs. Eve’s course. Sure, there were still courses after, yet somehow, they didn’t talk. Just exchanged “Hi”s and done.

“I shouldn’t have taken it that deep,” he thought between paragraphs of his speech text.

He glanced up to his dewy petite windows. Drizzling outside. “Is she home already?”

Lilian…

His brows furrowed as he frowned.

Probably out there going home with Atlas, huh?

Atlas, Atlas, Atlas.

That girl seemed to enjoy talking about him that much.

“What’s so cool about him?”

Ezra didn’t even realize he was distracted, leaving his fourth and fifth paragraph unrepeated.

“Are you even okay being this late?”

“Late?”

Both of the girl and boy in question were stuck in a mini market near their neighborhood. They were just stopping by for him to get something to drink.

“Eight PM, late?” asked the black haired boy, chugging the canned coke he just bought. “You’re such a dork, dork.”

A pinch landed on his bicep, causing him to wince pretentiously.

“You have to practice, at least,” muttered Lilian, half advising. “The election’s in two days.”

“I already did,” replied Atlas, shrugging his broad shoulders.

“Then do it more.” She was serious in this. “You’re too relaxed.”

He threw his hand. A small smile landed on his lips. “Why? You’re afraid I’m losing?”

Just as Lilian’s lips parted, Atlas continued his sentences.

“Because I already lost a vote from the beginning?”

Lilian paused. She was taken aback slightly. A vote, he said.

Atlas scoffed, soft, “You’re voting for Ezra, right?”

She hesitated to respond for a moment. At that very moment she felt bad for not planning on voting Atlas, but she couldn’t just change her mind out of an older friendship. At the same time, his relaxed voice eased her, as if he was a mastermind reading her expression.

“Oh—hey, I mean—I’m totally okay with it! Don’t—don’t look at me like that, alright?” he clarified, setting down his coke.

“Sorry,” he grinned, “didn’t mean it to sound that way.”

Lilian gave a small smile.

“So… you’re going to throw that can to the trash and we head home so you can practice or not?”

“Definitely not.”

——✩——

Everybody in the crowd clapped. Tenth graders, 11th, 12th, even teachers. All marched to give in standing ovations. Cheers and whoops filled the admiring air.

Lilian just stood there.

Her hands clapping weren’t that loud compared to others.

Rosy lips didn’t even form any cheering noise nor his name.

But her heart beat for his speech the most. With her whole feelings she felt every word he delivered. Nodding to each work plan as if they actually shared the same ideas.

And at last, his final sentence.

“…with me, the sun will always shine on us.”

He quoted her.

And that ten minutes had to be the most beautiful thing she ever heard.

How promising and convincing it was. How perfectly spoken. Just perfect, like he already was.

“Straight ten out of ten, Ezra McAllister!” came the lively voice of the moderator. “Save the best for the last—Oh, that famous saying was real, I guess.”

A risky, provoking line.

Ezra, in his black coat of student council, with Crawford’s logo on his upper arm sleeve, sat back in his chair in front of everyone. Next to him was Finnegan, then Moira, Atlas, Itsuki, and lastly Tori-Anne. The turns were randomized by a raffle picked by the moderator. Ezra was the last.

He beamed at the sight of his supporters, wearing silly well-made masks, board signs on their hand, each had the word “McAllister”. Even not only his Chemistry group circle, there were also girls and underclassmen boys who had been admiring him and wanted to do something for it. How nice.

“You all know what time it is,” added the moderator as Ezra’s claps subsided. “Let’s do get the real fun, I suppose? Drumrolls, please! Drum-dum-drum-dum…”

It was time.

The debate everyone kept talking about. A session that suddenly made its comeback after years banned by teachers. But whatever it was, Ezra had decided not to take part in any of it. He was just going to sit there, unbothered in the most polite way.

“Objection, candidates?”

None of them moved a single muscle.

Tori-Anne, the only tenth grader, sat with hands stacked on her laps. Eyes anxious, yet determined. On her desk were neatly written notes, full of all candidates’ work plans she wrote down as they delivered, in case she needed them to be asked as defense.

Itsuki sat upright normally, his pale skin painted with bright morning sunlight. Atlas, hand withstanding his face on the desk. There was his chilled smile that hadn’t left his complexion. His relaxed, dark, navy eyes half side-eyeing his lefts and rights, waiting for any of them to voice their objection.

Moira sat upright, much alike to Tori-Anne, eyes scanning her notes full of each’s pros and cons she quickly analyzed just the moment they brought in their speeches. It was just a matter of time before she voiced her murderous arguments.

Finnegan, he was just like Moira. Ready to argue.

And Ezra? He was just playing safe, as he wasn’t into debates. Even though he was in the Language Field of student council, he had never been to any English debate competitions.

The moderator continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes darted to the crowd. “Help me with your claps, audience! Lit the fire! Blaze, blaze, blaze!”

Hands clapping, cheers, whoops marched in the air.

The screen from Nexus Corp. flashed each candidate dramatically.

Inviting the first argument from Finnegan Gray Jenkins.

“I do have a question for Itsuki.”

The crowd went boisterous. “Get him, Finn!” shouted Finnegan’s minions. Itsuki turned his head towards him, arms crossed. Defensiveness.

“You did have a mention about improving students' honesty in exams,” came Finn’s deepened voice. His lips mere inches to his microphone. “But what are you implying here actually? When, I ask, the last time cheating is an issue here? Do you find this relevant to our school’s issues? You could’ve just said lack of students’ literacy regarding exams’ rules, such as no pencils for essays, if you really wanted an academic related work plan, don’t you think?”

“In other words, is the cheating even in the room with us now? Or are you just seeking vengeance just because you can’t cover your exam answer?”

Loud boos and gasps pierced the air. Everyone whispered one another. The teachers got their ears clear upon the word “cheating” being brought up.

Itsuki clenched his jaw. The pallor in his face began to red.

“Thank you for your ideas for no pencils in essays,” Itsuki spoke to the mic. “If you’re thinking I might come with a terrific comeback, I do not, my apologies,” he said towards his people. “Because I just think there’s no fault in emphasizing honesty. It doesn’t have to be an actual issue for it to be taken attention to.”

So far, his response sounded good. For someone who was actually seeking revenge in getting his answers stolen without consent. That was why his heart thumped at the mention of his deep, unspoken intentions.

But he couldn’t take chances.

Itsuki Tanaka was more of a playing-safe guy like McAllister.

Yet, his next words that slipped out went wrong.

“Maybe if you are searching for up-to-date issues, you might just listen more to Whitlock’s. Hers were alike to your no pencil in essays. That students still bought water bottles on green days. Needed fixes.”

He didn’t at all mean bad by that, but Moira Plum took offense. She, having a pretty close senior-junior friendship with Tori-Anne, was aware if Finnegan might target her dear friend after, that having Itsuki didn’t seem come to a win.

And she targeted Itsuki first for bringing her up.

“But, Tanaka,” began Moira at her microphone, quick enough before Finnegan opened his mouth.

Her girls cheered at once, most of them were Crawford's research geeks.

“Right now, you’re a little bit coming with a terrific comeback, don’t you think? Jolly good. Liked how it sounded. Just did a terrific contraindication to yourself, too.”

Itsuki was taken aback slightly. He swallowed hard. He was contrasting his own previous words and Moira pointed it out. Minor, yet still embarrassing.

“And Jenkins,” she added. “I really thought you accentuated sensibility in your speech, then why would you be against cheating discouragement? Why is that, may I know?”

“Is it possible that you were the one that peeked Tanaka’s paper?”

It wasn’t true, of course.

Not Itsuki’s, at least.

But Moira really risked herself here. Stating flimsy statements was no more than a no no, just like contraindicating themselves.

This was the teachers’ reason for banning debates in elections years ago. It often led to personal matters. But, mind you, with the suppress of being watched by nearly a thousand school population, everyone might either fumble in defending themselves or risking it all by keep going against others to gain positive remarks on how sharp and slick they were.

Or simply stay out of the line, like Ezra did.

Austin, in the crowd, clenched his fists. “Ezra, what the hell?!” he gritted his teeth. He turned to Lando, eyes wide, “He saw. He SAW. He saw Finn glancing at one of Class 7’s kids paper! Remember? He told us that time. He was walking to the bathroom mid exam then he frickin’ SAW it. Then why in the world he just sit there closed eyes?! Say it!”

“Could’ve gained a big, fat win right now! He could’ve just—” he turned to Nat and Mimi that were already staring at him. “He could’ve just… ATE this up, you know?”

But Ezra stayed still.

And he definitely knew what he was doing.

“What evidence do you even have, Plum?”

Finnegan gave a smirk, seeing the realization upon her face. How she had let out a risky statement. But Tori-Anne got her back.

“I fear that,” the youngest began, “she… was just… stating—an—irony, Jenkins. It wasn’t like she—actually said that you peeked Tanaka’s paper. More… like sarcasm.”

She stuttered.

Also minus points, yet she still got a point in this.

“Do you possibly have any idea what an irony is?”

“The use of words that are opposing what we mean,” answered Tori-Anne mechanically, as if she had eaten a whole dictionary for breakfast.

“And it was meant to be funny,” wheedled Finnegan.

“I laughed.”

Moira.

The girls, even from other candidates’ team, screamed her name at once.

She added, with a little smirk on her face, “And I do laugh at my own ironies.”

And Finnegan chuckled lightly.

Itsuki and Tori-Anne exchanged glances as their smiles rose.

This was supposed to be just a game.

They mustn’t mean real harm after those heats, of course.

Because they knew they must keep everything no beyond that line, under their control. They, too, wanted to prove the teachers that they were unlike their predecessors who truly became hostile in this. Bring back debates for the upcoming year's elections, their unspoken aspire said.

Unfortunately, Finnegan’s surrender remark, “It is funny, Plum,” was preceded by Atlas‘s words.

“Alright, enough, pals.”

Finnegan, Moira, and Itsuki turned to him in sync. Atlas sounded serious, but they were certain that he was just playing around and pretending to “stop” the argument, remembering his playful traits.

“It was funny, Moira,” Atlas smiled.

Moira nodded. “And, respectfully, Itsuki, if you have personal matters regarding cheating, I encourage you to implement it as your work plan. I understand the weight you’re carrying. Having those answers stolen after your hard work studying… unbearable! And I’m beyond sure that nobody would want such a thing to recur in them. We must prevent it from happening again.”

“Finnegan, Tori-Anne,” he continued, now already standing. “Don’t take the irony far, will you? You did nothing. You’re innocent. That’s what you wanted to hear. And, Tori-Anne, once more, you nailed that no water bottles on green days. Simple, yet these wastes have great impacts to our environment. We can’t take chances and risk our earth.”

The candidates nodded.

In silence, the argument ended.

Because it already had even before Atlas opened his mouth.

That the moment Finnegan surrendered and laughed.

But right now, they all were still thinking Atlas was pretending to end the fight, being so-wise in a funny way.

Until he wasn’t.

And onto something else he was with his long lines.

“See, people?” he announced, talking to the crowd.

“That’s how you stop arguments. Understand each involved. They just wanted… to be understood! They just wanted to be heard! That’s all.”

“And a good leader must be able to do it. Arbitrate. Compose.”

Small claps began to fill the air. Lilian clapped, too, from the SRA seats.

But Atlas wasn’t done yet.

“Oh… look!”

His fingers pointed to the one sitting farthest of the candidates’ line. Everybody’s eyes followed.

“Look at our apathetic buddy over there! I thought a real leader must be able to solve problems around, but I guess silence’s better, huh?”

Ezra.

The ocean blue fully had his eyes on him, the black haired boy standing.

Gasps and whispers marched in the crowd.

“He. He didn’t even let out a single word but his own speech, everyone! As if he’s programmed to mind his own business.”

“I do admit he has an impressingly fascinating paragraphs, perfect. But does he even have the spirit of a leader? He’s just sitting there nice and well, ignoring all these heated arguments. How does he even have the audacity to do so?”

The crowd went loud, muttering whether Atlas was right or wrong.

Atlas.

He had always been vocal as a student council member of Charity Field, despite the sense of humor he brought off. And today, he was willing to pour this voice all out.

He wanted to win. And his job was to get that blonde boy out of the way; not because he couldn’t beat him. But that as much as people adore Atlas’ funny traits, they all would always love Ezra more.

And Atlas must change it, change their view by this debate session; his golden chance.

Ezra’s people could only watch that dark, navy irised boy talking in utter disbelief. How could they expect the safest way to get out of this, silence, went wrong?

“Oh, I’m sorry,” huffed Atlas, still smiling, “who am I kidding? Of course, yes! Just look at that face! The handsomeness, that’s his audacity. He was feeling confident with that dashing gift! He knew he could bag anything, even just by showing off his jawline. Even the student council president seat, easy peasy!”

The crowd’s mutters went louder.

Atlas had his jaw clenched, still in that smile.

“Is this it, everybody? This is who you are voting for? Who you are cheering for?” he shook his head, “Just because of the looks?”

There was an unspoken rule in this session to stay out of physical remarks.

And Atlas just crossed the line.

“Atlas, what in the world?” shrieked Lilian far there, hands cupping her mouth.

Christine, among Tori-Anne’s people, murmured, “I thought physical comment’s not allowed.” The black haired girl beside her chimed in, “Yeah. Even though it’s fact about…. something good.”

But there were more that began to be influenced by Atlas’s words than realizing the rule violation. The girls among Ezra’s team began realizing that the reason for them supporting Ezra was all based on his mesmerizing appearance. The moderator, he looked all frantic and didn’t stop even once seeking help from the student council superiors seat.

Atlas smiled in satisfaction. He turned to Ezra, who was already looking at him. Hands on his lap, arms not crossed. No defensiveness, yet Atlas was too spunky to notice it.

Ezra stood up, matching Atlas’ dominance asserting. Composed, he took his own microphone.

“I would like to express my apologies for my silence,” he began, half nodding to the crowd, then to Atlas. “But please do let me explain the reasons behind my action.”

The candidates swallowed tightly, the big screen gleamed behind them. They began realizing that Atlas was simply picking faults at Ezra. They themselves, of course, had no problems with Ezra not joining in their arguments, even if to mediate them. Because it was his choice whether to take part in this or not. And to be honest, for a boy like Itsuki, he would prefer less participants, because it meant a save for him.

“I lacked in joining the session because I didn’t want to interfere in the middle of the candidates’ debate.”

“Interference was the whole point of this session, actually,” corrected Atlas haughtily.

Ezra still smiled. Not a friendly one, but firm.

“My apologies, but what you were remarking on me was because I didn’t break the argument, not because I didn’t join in their argument, in other words, your interpretation of interference. So, that was my response. I didn’t wish to disturb their debate, but if you do then go ahead. My thought’s just that everything in this is meant to be debated, and there was no need of breaking it up,” Ezra shut his eyes, half mimicking Atlas’ way of speaking just before, “unless you want to play hero, actually.”

Basically saying that Atlas was being ridiculous to “stop” the “fight”. For Ezra, there was nothing to be broken up about. Even just by the name, it was clear that this was a debate session after all.

“Do you have forgotten what was the reason of this session never be allowed for the past years?” Atlas insisted.

“You do ask them, Jenkins, Plum, and Tanaka, if they were really thinking about that? Were they thinking of crossing the line?” replied Ezra smoothly. “I understand what you mean. You think that they’re getting hostile in this debate, just like the past years and you demand me to stop in the name of a good leader. But for me, there’s no harm in their arguments. Nothing to be worried about, alright? Really.”

The candidates exchanged glances.

Tori-Anne, it was clear that she just wanted to cover Moira.

Moira herself was bloodthirsty of having arguments in this golden opportunity for her to show off her slickness. But she never meant to murder any of them for real. She didn’t wish to really finish the two boys, Itsuki and Finnegan, even for bringing up her dear Tori-Anne.

Itsuki; it was true that he avenged his defeat of getting cheated on during exam by one of his president work plans, but it didn’t mean he wanted to end Finnegan even if he was the one that took his answers.

Finnegan was the one that started it all, it was true. But he kept everything professional. He admitted that he lost from Moira with that “irony” controversy. He respected her as well, even though his words got cut by Atlas.

None of them meant actual harm, so this contraindicated Atlas’ words. He kept making a fuss while they were all chill about everything!

Atlas pressed flat his lips.

He knew, of course, that he messed up.

But he refused to give in just now.

Not to McAllister.

“Fancy dodging,” he said.

“Just having my points,” replied Ezra.

There was a slight pause before Atlas scoffed, then laughed to the mic.

“You must be having fun all this time showering girls all your attention with your so-called gentleman traits.”

There wasn’t even a room for yells and shouts as Atlas poured all his spiteful lines without a break, directly to the blonde boy.

“What are you going to do once you’ve become president? Make all boys paint "I HATE PERIODS” on the back of their uniforms? Huh? Is that it?”

“Then you’re going to hang up flyers about WOMEN whatever AWARENESS on the bulletin board? Like the feminist you are?”

“You sounded sexist,” muttered Finnegan.

“No, HE is sexist. Baiting all girls with that cheap “man” behavior, opening the doors, speaking in a softened voice, liking girlfriends' appreciation posts on social media with your main account just so that everyone could see how honorable you are.”

“They’re just an object for you to show off your kindness, your loyalty, your whatever it’s called, all goodness came along with your face, just so that they all sided with you, handsome prince? Look at those poor girls! Used. They all fell for your sick propaganda of you being their dreamy student council president, knowing that your sick idea never really CARED, just like how you stayed mute before.”

Everyone stared in silence.

In disgust.

To whom, you could tell.

Atlas huffed and gave a faint smirk.

“Say it’s true, Blondie?”

Ezra just smiled, his eyes crinkled.

“Easy, Westwood.”

——✩——

★ read the next chapter here!

★ read the previous chapter here!