Friday morning is all about damage control. I head to school early, wearing my favorite pink blouse and determined to undo all the damage Libby caused with her transparent acts of sabotage.

My cupcakes manage to survive the journey relatively unscathed. Armed with my cake tin, Vote for Rose badges, and a somewhat optimistic attitude, I stride toward the bikesheds and convince myself it's not too late to piece together the shreds of my reputation.

Blake grins when I round the corner and pushes himself off the wall. With a glance at my cupcake tin, he says, "You look ready for war."

"I am," I say, determined. "If those campaign-stealing conspirators think they're going to get away with sabotage, they can think again."

Blake tugs me closer until the cupcake tin is the only thing separating us. "Prickly Rose strikes again."

My heart does that thing where it flutters repeatedly; it seems to be common around him. "I'm serious, Blake. We need to decide on an angle: we can either deny, deny, deny, or admit the truth. I personally think we should go with the second option and spin the narrative in my favor."

Blake's expression sits somewhere between sickened and amused. "You sound like a politician."

I beam. "Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

Ignoring him, I glance at my watch and have a moment of panic. In a few minutes, the bell will ring, and our chance to put on a united front in the face of Libby's public humiliation will be gone. "Seriously, what should I do?"

"You own it," Blake says. "Whatever they bring up, you say: yeah, that happened."

"And then what?" I ask.

"That's it."

I'm not convinced, but we're out of time. The bell rings, and I take a deep breath as we walk toward the school. A few people stare as we pass through the hall, but it's hard to tell whether it's because of what Libby said or because they're still not used to seeing Rose and Blake. Truth be told, I'm not either.

After putting my things in my locker, I turn to Blake and tell him I'll meet him at lunch. We plan to sit at one of the tables outside the lunch hall, cupcakes and badges lined up to entice, and spend the next few days convincing people to vote for me despite my indiscretions.

The rest of the morning is easy enough, but I can't help but feel paranoid that I'll turn around and find yet another attempt at sabotage. Maybe my face is on another poster, or my secrets are laid bare across the locker doors; I wouldn't put anything past them.

At lunch, I grab the cupcakes and badges from my locker and set up on one of the hallway's campaign tables. Angela is at the opposite end, somewhat deflated as she leans across her table, chin in her palm and eyes on the clock. I can't help but feel guilty that these secrets and lies have overshadowed her campaign, just as they have mine.

For the next few minutes, I anxiously stare at the people who walk past me as if I'm not here. My cupcake tin is open, the Vote for Rose cupcakes proudly on display, but not one person stops to take one. I tell myself it's nothing personal – maybe they're gluten intolerant – and focus on organizing the badges on my table.

"Hey Rose," someone says as they approach my table, "did you really have to pay Blake to be your campaign captain?"

I swallow hard, repeating Blake's words in my head, but they don't seem to make it past my lips. Instead, I look down at the badges on my table and hope he'll carry on walking.

"Guess that's a yes," his friend says.

The pair of them laugh as they carry on down the hallway. I exhale slowly, about to dash to the bathroom and stay there, but then I catch sight of Libby and Chase setting up next to Angela and falter.

Chase looks over as Libby sits down and does a little wave. My eyes narrow, and suddenly this surge of fury I've been keeping at bay crashes through me like a tidal wave. I wave back, making it clear I'm not going anywhere, and spend the next five minutes pretending to be unfazed.

At one point, Liv, Freddie, and Kenny stride down the hallway and make a beeline for my table. I jump to my feet – never have I felt more relieved to see them – and throw my arms around Liv. I'd thought maybe putting myself back out there after the abysmal debate would earn me a little respect, but all it's done is humiliate me.

"Please take a badge," I say into her hair. "No one else has."

She laughs and pulls back before scooping up three badges and handing them out. "It's not as bad as you think," she says. "I heard a few people talking earlier about who they might vote for. Your name came up."

Surprised, I say, "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's pretty much between you and Libby. No offense to Angela, but people can't even remember what she's campaigning for."

"That's awful," I say, but when I glance at Angela, expecting her to look pissed at me, she smiles.

"Damn," Freddie says through a mouthful of cake, "these cupcakes are delicious." He turns around, his cupcake raised and eyes ablaze as though an idea has sprung to mind. Voice loud, he calls out, "Someone come and grab a cupcake before I eat them all."

A few people glance over. Some gather around the table to grab a cupcake and linger while they eat it. Freddie looks over, offering an encouraging nod, and I flash him a grateful look. Turning to my newfound crowd, I take the opportunity to hand out some badges and remind them of why they should vote for me. One or two leave after getting some cake, but others stick around to listen to my speech and even seem interested.

"Okay," Julian from my Economics class says slowly, "but seriously. Did you pay Blake O'Hare to be your campaign captain?"

"Is that why he's not here?" his boyfriend, Alexis, asks.

My heart pounds harder. I'm wracking my brain for a reasonable answer when Blake appears next to me. "She paid me to help me out," he says casually and picks up a badge. Even though it kills him, he pins it to his Radiohead tee. "Anything else?"

The pair of them stare at the badge on Blake's t-shirt. I can understand why they're surprised: seeing us together, let alone seeing my badge on his t-shirt, still surprises me too.

"Your question shouldn't be whether or not I paid Blake," I say, "it should be: Do I want this school to change? If the answer is yes, then back it up with your vote."

Julian blinks like I've surprised him with my forwardness. I'm a little surprised too. "I've gotta admit," he says, "it would be nice to have somewhere to go that isn't the library."

"Yeah," Alexis says. "Sometimes I want somewhere to chill by myself without constantly explaining why I don't want to talk. Just let me sit in peace, you know?"

"That's exactly why I plan to get the school to fund those spaces," I say. I'm acutely aware that Chase and Libby are looking this way and burning daggers through my profile, but it only urges me on. "They aren't just to escape bullying but the pressures of class. People need to recharge, and school is one of the only places where, for some reason, we're not entitled to do that. These safe spaces would change that."

The pair of them look at each and shrug. "All right, Matthews," Julian says. "Your cupcakes have won me over. You got my vote."

I grin as the pair walk off and turn to the others, who are busy discussing my campaign. Liv is mid-conversation about the effects of bullying, Freddie is holding my cupcakes for ransom while making people promise to vote for me, and Kenny, while silent, loyally hands out my badges.

My heart swells to twice its size. After everything that happened, the thought of even making it this far seemed downright possible, but not only have I made it, I made some new friends along the way. Whether I win or lose, that alone made everything worth it.

For the rest of the lunch, the five of us work as a team to salvage my campaign. Chase walks over at one point, clearly seething at my table's sudden popularity. He walks right up to me, taking in the Vote for Rose badge on Blake's t-shirt before slowly turning to look at me.

"Do you really think a few cupcakes and badges will save you?" he asks. "Give it up, Rose. You're just embarrassing yourself."

Blake folds his arms, which only makes his muscles bulge beneath his tight sleeves. "You don't need to make an excuse to come over here. If you want a cupcake, I'll give you one."

Chase's eyes harden but don't move from mine. The others have stopped talking to watch our exchange, and suddenly, I'm under a spotlight. "Come on, Rose," he says. "On the off-chance you do win, we both know it won't be down to you. It will be because you cheated and got your friends to do all the work. You know what that makes you? Weak."

I smile because he's right. If there is one thing I've learned since all of this started, it's that rarely do people go this alone. Behind every good leader, there is a village of people who helped to get them where they are; Blake and his friends are mine.

"Chase," I say. "You had to steal my old campaign to beat me. You know what that makes you?" I lean a little closer, dropping my voice. "Pathetic."

Chase moves forward with a stone-cold expression that terrifies me. Blake puts an arm out, stopping him from getting closer, and gives him a warning look. It's a warning Chase isn't willing to ignore because, with one final glare, he walks off.

"That guy," Kenny says in the moment of lull, "is an asshole."

"Agreed," Liv says.

"With a capital A," Freddie adds.

When a few more students join our table, my newfound friends jump into action again. As I talk to Jessica, a girl from my English class, I glance at Blake as he's halfway through telling some guy about the three R's, and suddenly a lightbulb goes off. There he is, a boy who hates everything about this campaign, passionately defending my corner, and he's doing it for me. If that isn't a sign he likes me back, what is?

My chest feels fluttery as I turn back to Jessica because somewhere between him putting on my badge and discussing the Rs, I've decided. I'm not going to wait to tell him I like him – I can't – I'm going to do it tomorrow at the concert.

I just hope he likes me back.

❤️