Today is the day – the one that will change my life as I know it, though for better or worse, remains to be seen. Still, there is something cathartic about knowing that, one way or another, things will be different tomorrow.

I keep my morning routine simple: nothing fancy, no frills or last-minute desperate attempts to appeal to my audience. At this point in my candidacy, people believe in my campaign – in me – or they don't, and if I've learned anything through all of this, it's that I can't spend my life worrying about what people think. No matter how hard you try, there will always be people who don't like or accept you, and that's not a fault within them or even me; it's just life. The thing that matters – and has only really hit me just now – is whether I can learn to like myself.

With a deep breath, I brush my hair and move to my closet before pulling out my outfit. I lay it on the bed, staring at the black satin shirt I'd picked out with a feeling of uneasiness. I've wanted this for so long that I can't quite believe the day is finally here, and now that it is, it doesn't feel real, like maybe I'll wake up tomorrow, and everything will be back to normal. It's what I'd have wished for a few months ago when everything happened, but now I can't think of anything worse.

After getting changed, I spend a few minutes sitting on the edge of my bed to calm my nerves, but all I can think about is how Blake won't be there today to support me. Despite what happened, he was the one person who got me through this campaign, and now on the day that I'll need him most, he's suspended.

I'm officially on my own.

Still, there's nothing I can do but put on my game face and head downstairs for breakfast. My mother sits at the table, looking somewhat prim in her sleek black jumpsuit. I slink into the seat opposite, watching as she looks up from her phone to shoot me a reassuring smile.

"Morning, honey," she says. "How are you feeling?"

I hesitate as she watches me, her eyes bright with approval. People like my mother probably don't get nervous about these things, but right now, I'm a wreck. The truth is, as hard as I've tried to emulate her confidence, I always fall short. "Nervous," I say at last. "In fact, this is the most nervous I've felt in my life. I feel like I want to be sick."

"Ah." She smiles knowingly and gets to her feet before pulling out some Ginger tea. "Ginger tea is good at settling nerves around elections."

"You get nervous?" I ask.

"Of course," she says, looking over her shoulder. "Anyone who puts themselves out there and claims not to get nervous is either a liar or a psychopath."

Hearing my mother is not this confident, perfect being calms me a little. I sit quietly as she pulls out one of the teabags and puts it into a cup of boiling water before placing it in front of me. Sitting back down, she reaches over and tucks back a strand of my hair. "Drink up," she says. "It'll settle your stomach."

"I don't think anything could settle my stomach right now," but I blow on my cup of tea anyway.

"I know," she says, "but remember that you've worked hard for this, Rose, and regardless of everything, I'm proud of you."

I look up, surprised. My mom doesn't know it, but her words mean everything. "Thank you."

After downing my tea, I scoop my bag off the floor, kiss my mom goodbye, and spend the drive to school reciting two speeches: my winning speech and my losing speech. It's hard to predict which of them I'll have to use, but either way, I'll be ready.

As soon as I pull into the parking lot, I switch off the engine and take another deep breath, pretending for a moment that today is not Election Day; it's just like any other day. It helps get me out of the driver's seat and over to school, but the moment I pass the bike shed, I freeze. I search for Blake, even while knowing he won't be there due to his suspension. Still, as I stand here, I think back to every time I'd met him here and smile. Even with him gone, it's still our place, and no matter what happens, it always will be.

I turn to the entrance and pull back my shoulders. Part of me dreads walking into school, and for a good reason. Rumors fill the hallways about what happened with Chase and Blake, and even though I'd been sure it wouldn't affect the campaign, now I'm not so confident.

Still, what Blake did might have even helped me. As I walk to my locker, people are talking about how what happened was romantic – something I never thought I'd hear about Blake – and it has my name in people's mouths for something good for a change. I use it to my advantage, telling those who come up to me about how my campaign will stop people like Chase, and the best part is they listen.

By the time I make it to my locker, it's almost time for the bell. Liv and the others are already there waiting for me, and the first thing Liv does is yank me closer by my arm, her eyes wide with gossip.

"Did you hear?" she asks. "Angeladropped out of the running this morning. Her votes won't count."

My heart sinks at the news. It sucks that Angel made it this far only to bow out at the finish line, but I can't exactly blame her. My feud with Chase and Libby has turned the candidacy into a spectacle I'd never wanted or asked for, and neither had she. If I had any sense, I'd bow out now too.

As though able to read my mind, Liv frowns. "Don't even think about it."

"Yeah," Freddie chimes in, "don't even think about it. Especially when we went through all this effort."

In one swift move, both he, Liv, and Kenny unzip their jackets to reveal their Rose for president t-shirts. I stare at the three of them, at my face plastered on their t-shirts, and feel like I'm about to cry.

"What do you think?" Freddie asks with a twirl.

The lump in my throat is so big that I don't speak, but I pull the three of them into a hug that threatens to cut off their airways. I thought I knew what it felt like to have friends, but I have never been so wrong. Libby and Chase weren't my friends. Friends are the people who show up when no one else does, who convince you you'll win even when your chances are slim. Friends are the ones who will put aside their embarrassment to show up in a t-shirt with your face on it.

"Thank you," I say with the biggest smile, "but you don't have to wear these."

"We want to," Liv says.

"Want isn't exactly the word I'd use," Kenny says, but he falls silent when she elbows him.

I laugh and pull back as the bell rings. After first period, I'll head to the auditorium with the other candidates and campaign captains, of which there is now just Libby and me, considering Angela has dropped out and our campaign captains were suspended. Having it be just the two of us is almost more daunting than if I were still up against Angela. For the millionth time, I wish Blake were here.

"We gotta get to class, but we'll see you in a little while," Liv says with another hug.

I squeeze her back. "Thank you."

"No problemo," Freddie says, hugging me next.

Kenny hugs me after, whispering a quick Good luck in my ear before the three of them head to class. I head to first period, passing Mr. Charter on the way, who stops and beams when he sees me.

"Good luck today, Rose," he says. "I know how hesitant you were to pursue this initially, and I'm so proud of you for choosing to follow your dreams."

"Thank you, Mr. Charter," I say, and I mean it. You were right when you said this too shall pass."

He smiles. "It's not often I'm right, so I'll take it. See you at the election."

I drag my feet to first period, wanting to delay the inevitable. Even though it feels like I've been waiting forever for this, now that it's here, I can't seem to silence the doubt. It whispers you're not good enough. No one will have voted for you. Chase will be proven right. I do my best to silence it and head to class, where I spend the next hour quietly watching the clock as the nerves eat away at me.

Finally, after an excruciating morning, it's time. I head to the auditorium, my footsteps heavy as I dip behind the curtains and join Mr. Charter and a few other faculty members backstage.

"Ah, there you are," Mr. Charter says and ticks something off his clipboard. "I hope you don't mind, but I've had to assign a few faculty members to act as your Campaign Captains for the duration of the ballot, given the unfortunate circumstances regarding your own."

"It's fine," I say as I briefly scan the stage. In the corner, Libby sits at a table by herself. She looks over as I approach and holds my gaze, but there is something behind it I hadn't expected to find: relief. She didn't want this, I realize – any of it. She was forced into it by Chase, and deep down, she's glad this is nearly over.

Despite every fiber in my body screaming don't, I walk up to her. Half of me expects her to sneer, but she doesn't. She turns to face me, her eyebrows furrowed and eyes careful as they regard me.

"Hey," I say.

Her voice comes quiet and tired sounding. "Hey."

"So, today's the day," I say.

"Yeah, I guess so."

I nod and wait for a moment to pass. I still can't believe this is the same Libby I was friends with, but in a way, I'm not the same Rose she was friends with, either. "Well, I just came over to say good luck."

She stares at me for a long, hard second, trying to determine my intentions. Growing up with someone like Chase, it's probably hard to distinguish whether or not someone is being genuine. She doesn't say anything, so I turn to leave when her voice keeps me still.

"Rose?"

I turn again and nod for her to continue.

She takes a deep breath and then says, "Good luck."

I breathe in slowly as relief settles over me. There's this moment where we look at one another, and it's like I can see her, the real her, the person she is when Chase is not influencing her. And even though there's no repairing our friendship, I no longer feel the sting of her rejection anymore. Right now, this moment between us feels like a truce.

"Thanks," I say and head to the side of the stage.

By now, those doubts from before kick up a notch. All I can think is: What if no one votes for me? What if I get on that stage only for it to be announced that Libby is the winner? What if all of this was for nothing? But then that same voice stresses that it is not for nothing. Even if the worst happens and I don't become class president, I could never claim this was for nothing. Along the way, I learned to stand up for myself, learned that a perfect reputation isn't everything, and whether I win or lose, I know I did it as myself and not the girl I pretended to be.

That makes it worth it.

As though he can sense my wavering confidence, my phone pings with a message from Blake. Three words, but as always, they have the power to erase any doubt and give me the courage to continue.

❤️