Page 38 of Don't Hate the Player
“I told Klein there wasn’t enough diversity in the tickets. He saw reason,” Audra says smugly. “Since there are two guys running against Penny, I made him see the light of feminism. He gave me the permission slip and said my parents could sign it tonight. Connor”—she pivots on the bench to put her back to me—“do you want to be my vice president?”
You have to be kidding me. Audra couldn’t have known that we were just recruiting Connor for our ticket, but her timing couldn’t be more awful. Penny hasn’t had a chance to file the VP change with the student gov office.
“Oh, Audra, I, um . . .” Connor trails off and leans around her to look at me. “That’s nice of you, but I just told Penny I’d be her vice president. Lia’s dropping out.”
Audra is not fazed by this news at all. “Wait, she just asked you? So she hasn’t filed the change with the office yet? You could still join my ticket!”
Penny looks as if she’d really like to try the hair-pulling thing on Audra. Not to see if she’s wearing a mask, but just to tear out a bald patch.
“What the hell, Audra?” she asks sharply. “Those campaign rules are there for a reason. You should have put your paperwork in with the rest of us, and you can’t just come here and steal my VP.”
“Girl, why you so mad?” Audra leans back like Penny’s completely normal reaction is something she ought to be afraid of.
“I’m not your girl,girl,” Penny replies, “and I’m not mad, I’m right. There’s a difference.”
“Penny, calm down,” Connor says. I know he’s just trying to diffuse the situation, but he could not have chosen two worse words. “I’m not ditching you. Don’t be mean.”
“Yeah, calm down,” Audra echoes.
“I am calm,” Penny says. “I just think it’s funny that I had to work for weeks on my campaign, writeandsubmit my speech, mock-up my posters, and give Klein a two-page summary of my platform before he even allowed me to take the permission slip home, but you just walked right in and bypassed all of that. Why’d he do that, do you think? And why do you think you can barge in on our candidate meeting like that’s going to get you anywhere?”
Oh, I know this one! The answer is raging entitlement. Pick me for this one, Penny. Pick me.
“I don’t know,” Audra replies defensively. “You probably would have done the same thing. I didn’t even know Emilia dropped out, and it’s not my fault you did a bunch of extra work you didn’t have to.”
Penny closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she opens them again, she looks surprisingly chipper.
“Nope,” she chimes. “Not doing this. Emilia, you’re up.” She taps her hands on the table with an air of finality and hauls her leg over the cafeteria bench to leave. Matt almost dislocates his kneecap rushing to stand up with her.
“Same. I gotta . . .” He trails off, trying to formulate an excuse. He comes up with nothing. Before Matt heads off with Penny, he looks back at me and gives me a thumbs-up. I take it to mean either “good luck” or “you got yourself into this so have fun getting out.”
Definitely one of those two interpretations. Either way, he’s right; I’m going to need all the luck I can get to knock Audra out of the ring, and it’s my fault there’s even a ring in the first place. Penny deserves a drama-free campaign, and it’s the least I can do to give one to her after what happened on Sunday. I put my dreams before hers and didn’t even give her a choice. That was wrong of me, I get that now. I wish it felt more likely that Connor might understand that.
“Honestly I don’t even know how you’re friends with her,” Audra says stiffly once Penny is gone.
“It’s easy, she’s dope as hell, and she works hard for what she has,” I snap. I’m really regretting the moment I let Audra squeeze in between Connor and me. There’s a lot I’d like to say to him right now without having to lean over her; Connor has no such reservations.
“And what about you, Connor?” Audra says sarcastically. “Are you cool with her?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he says, shrugging. “She’s passionate? I don’t get why she’s mad, though.”
My patience for Connor is wearing way thin, way fast. I can’t lose him in the final stretch. “Penny did everything right,” I try to explain. “How would you feel if a random new kid was picked to be soccer captain over you and asked for your jersey number?”
I don’t know, man. Sports analogies aren’t my strong suit.
“That’s different,” Connor argues. “This is just paperwork.”
Audra looks caught between wanting to cheer for the fact that I’m fighting with Connor and wanting to speak to my manager.
“Audra, you mind giving Connor and me a minute?” I ask as sweetly as I can given the circumstances.
“Actually, I do,” she says primly.
“I don’t care.”
Audra stands up in a huff and nudges me so hard I almost slip off the end of the bench. “I’m actually happy because now Connor sees who he’s running with. Penny’s literally the thought police.”
There is, and I cannot stress this enough, a zero percent chance Audra finished that book.
