An ex-couples rivalry for the spot as student body president becomes even more convoluted when two new, unexpected candidates enter the race. Chloe and Preston team up, each vowing to get one member kicked from the competition-- but when they both e...
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Emily and I headed downstairs, her question digging at my brain and making one of its own: Where did she see this going? Despite being almost positive she wouldn't give an entirely straight answer I was still dying to ask.
Mrs. Banks was already placing down steaming plates of food as we walked into the dining room, and Mr. Banks was sitting at the table reading something on his phone. The two of them looked up as we came in, offering friendly smiles.
"I hope salmon is okay?" Mrs. Banks asked as we walked over.
"Definitely," I answered gratefully, taking the seat next to Emily and across from her father, who locked his phone and set it face down beside his placemat. "It looks delicious."
She grinned, thanking me for the compliment as she sat down with us. The food tasted like heaven, expertly flavored and cooked— there was no doubt in my mind that their meals were as pricey as the rest of their extravagant looking lifestyle.
Before I could praise the dinner Mrs. Banks spoke again, gesturing between her and her husband. "The two of us were so happy when Emily said she had a friend helping her with the campaign."
Her father nodded, swallowing his bite before chiming in. "She hadn't even told us she made any friends at Milton, let alone someone so generous."
"I like doing it," I assured them. "And everything's going really good so far— we already have her speech done for the assembly."
"That's great to hear." He smiled, looking over to his daughter. "We were so glad she decided to run."
I nodded, realizing that the conversation almost felt like it was taking place without Emily entirely. "I was surprised, honestly," I admitted. "I didn't understand why she'd want to do something like this when she's so amazing at art."
I could see Emily turn to look at me, but continued to cut nervously at the food on my plate.
"Well, yeah," her father responded halfheartedly. "It's never bad to branch out and try new things, though."
"Oh, yeah, for sure. I guess I'm just not used to seeing someone my own age who's as talented as Emily. Her stuff at the art show really blew me away."
I could feel my face get warm as a thick silence passed over the table, and I looked up from my plate to see her parents wearing similar expressions of mild surprise. Her mother's gaze kept bouncing between me and Emily, while her father's drifted down to his plate. Emily was wearing a blush of her own, as well as a soft smile that I quickly returned.
"Preston's the captain of the wrestling team," Emily finally spoke, seeming to disperse the haze of awkwardness that had settled between the four of us. "Not exactly a small feat of its own."
"Certainly not." Her father grinned at me as I took another bite of the mouth-watering food. "I bet that's great for scholarships, huh?"
"Yeah, definitely. I've been scouted by a couple of schools, which is pretty exciting."
