“Did you need something?” I ask. I glance up at him, not wanting to feel like he towers over me the same way Troy always tries to. Except, when his dark gaze connects with mine, fear isn’t what rushes through me. Instead, it's a feeling of comfort.
“Umm. Yeah, actually, I do. I need to ask a favor.”
My eyebrows pinch as I try to think of what he could be about to ask. “A favor?”
His hand shoots up to scratch the back of his head, much like his brother does when he’s nervous. It’s the only mannerism they really mirror in each other. But Wilder is different. With Rome, it looks like he is trying to flex his muscles to distract people. With Wilder, it’s as if he is just genuinely nervous. His fingers tangle in his ruffled hair and I find myself smiling. His apprehension is odd for someone so confident and smart. “So you probably heard my dad is running for mayor…”
I slam my laptop closed, the snap echoing through the room. I’m not sure why I did it, but I did. I suppose the word “mayor” just took me by surprise. Anything that involves Troy makes my guard go up instantly.
Wilder’s posture stiffens at my sudden outburst. “Everything okay?” he asks, alert and wide-eyed.
Keeping my cool, I force a smile on my face. “Yes, everything’s fine. And that’s wonderful news about your dad.”
“It is?” he asks, surprised at my response. “With your husband being the current mayor and all, I guess I just thought…”
His words trail off, but he doesn’t need to finish. I know it’s an unlikely situation. Wilder is my student and his father and my husband are now opponents, what I consider, a fierce competition. I say fierce because I know Troy, and he is not going to make this an easy feat for Grant Cromwell.
“It is wonderful news,” I tell him again. “The position is open to all residents of Willow Creek. I think your dad is a worthy contender. Look, Wilder.” I stand up, moving from behind my desk because I’m feeling restless—uncomfortable, even.
These elections always heighten my nerves and even discussing it with Wilder has me on edge. If Troy knew I was talking with anyone about it, let alone his opponent's son, I can’t imagine how he’d react. He might try to take away my position here, and I can’t let that happen. I need this place; it’s my only escape.
A wide smile spreads across his face, his shoulders visibly loosening as he exhales. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”
“I’m glad,” I tell him. “This doesn’t have to be awkward. May the best man win.” I tilt my head slightly to the left, crossing my arms over my chest as my nails dig into the fabric of my sweater dress. I need to be composed right now or he will know something is wrong. He always knows. And I hate having to lie to him every time he asks if I’m okay.
“You mentioned needing a favor. Does this have anything to do with the reading material this week?”
“Actually, it doesn’t have anything to do with class. You see, my dad asked me if I’d help out with his campaign. Speeches, news articles, that sort of thing. In fact, I already got an email this morning from his campaign manager, Jillian.” He snaps his fingers. “You probably know Jillian, right?”
I nod. “I know who Jillian is. She worked with Troy, err, Mayor Jenkins his first year.” I shake my head, not wanting to divulge any more information about Troy and his job. I draw back my shoulders, chin up. “She’ll do great work for your dad.”
“I’m happy to hear that. Anyways, Jillian has already sent me over some notes for an article being published this Thursday that my father wants me to write.” He chuckles as he continues, “Me. Can you believe it? I’m not even out of high school, yet my dad wants me to handle something this big. Crazy, right?”
“That’s amazing, Wilder,” I tell him excitedly. “I have no doubt you’ll do impressive things in this position. You’ve always had a knack for entertaining the public eye.”
I speak the truth. What Wilder is taking on is a big task, but I know he’ll do incredible work for his dad. Though, I can tell by the look on his face, he doesn’t feel the same way.
He sighs heavily. “That's what my dad said, but I can’t help but feel like I’m gonna screw this up for him.”
I press my lips into a flat smile. I feel so conflicted. On one hand, I don’t want to talk about any of this with him. On the other, it’s so nice to be talking with him. “You’re an intelligent young man who is eloquent with his words. Give yourself more credit.”
He chuckles airily. “Also what my dad said. Anyways, I was sort of hoping maybe you could help me out with this article being printed Thursday. I don’t know the first thing about politics and?—”
I can feel the sweat start to bead on my forehead as he begins to ask the question I know will end up getting me killed if I agree. My heart rate speeds up and my vision gets blurry.
I can’t breathe, I can’t see…I… “I can’t,” I blurt out, moving quickly behind my desk to shuffle through papers as I try to calm my nerves. My hands are trembling as the panic attempts to consume me, but I refuse to give in. I can’t fall apart in front of a student, not this one especially. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to ask someone else.” My voice nearly cracks, but I hold it together.
“But you were so helpful with that essay last fall and I know you’d?—”
My voice rises unintentionally. “I said no!”
The air stills. Tension hangs heavy in the room to the point I have to loosen my turtleneck because I feel like I can’t catch my breath.
A few seconds of silence pass and I finally look at him. He’s perplexed—at a loss for words. That makes two of us.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me these last couple days, but it seems every day something catches me off guard and I react impulsively. I’ve always done such a good job at holding myself together, but lately, I feel like pieces of myself are scattering.
“I’m so sorry, Wilder,” I say with sympathy in my tone, trying desperately not to let him hear how afraid I am. “I didn’t mean to react so harshly. It’s a conflict of interest. You understand, right?”