In no time at all, Gwen had everything arranged: the badges, posters, and banners required for the campaign.
Kahn went to find a manufacturer who could rush the badge printing. Cindy, whose sorority lived for organizing events, naturally had all the connections for high-quality posters and banners.
Gwen even brought in Betty from the school radio station.
Betty nodded, looking at Locke. "Not a problem at all. I'll have the students start drafting scripts immediately." She then turned to Gwen. "Why don't we set up an interview for Locke with the school TV station? We could do a series of 'follow-the-candidate' segments, capturing behind-the-scenes footage during the academic competitions over the next two months."
Gwen nodded decisively. "Perfect."
Locke stood by, watching Gwen—now fully in "Campaign Manager" mode—organize his life with lightning speed. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He had a strange sensation that Gwen was actually more excited about him becoming the President of the Student Management Committee than he was.
The Good Wife? Locke blinked.
Before lunch break had even ended, the news of Locke Broughton's candidacy spread like wildfire. His popularity, far deeper than he had imagined, completely overshadowed the usual "first day of school" buzz, instantly claiming the number one spot on the school's trending forum.
Half an hour later, Sam Malik—the eleventh-grade football captain—and Nina Bell received word that a third player had entered the game for the presidency.
And it was a player who was both incredibly handsome and, for all intents and purposes, a "cheater."
By the afternoon, the School Board, having caught wind of Locke's intent to run, reached out directly to his campaign manager.
"What did you say?" Locke looked at Gwen in disbelief. "They're providing us with sponsorship funds?"
Gwen nodded, eyes bright. "And it's the largest amount ever given—a full ten thousand dollars in specialized campaign funds."
That was unprecedented. In the past, the Board would occasionally fund candidates they favored, but it was usually around three or four thousand. Anything beyond that had to come out of the student's own pocket.
At the end of the day, an election was a money-burning exercise, though high school versions were significantly cheaper than the race for the White House.
"It seems the Board has absolute confidence in you," Gwen said. "They've maxed out the legal limit for campaign spending."
Since it was a school election, they had to prevent it from becoming a total bidding war. Thus, every presidential election had a spending cap of ten thousand dollars. Anyone who went over—even if they won—could be impeached if an audit found excess spending.
"What's more," Gwen continued, "we don't even have to handle the paperwork. The campaign account is already open. As long as we bring home the twelve trophies from the High School League Comprehensive Knowledge Competitions over these two months, the Board will cover every cent."
No one hated the lack of "intellectual" leadership in the student body more than the School Board. Unfortunately, previous academic candidates were often socially inept. They usually saw their support hit absolute zero before they even reached the speech stage.
But now? A turning point.
Locke Broughton: born in Texas, and although he hadn't joined any sports teams at school, he held the title and certificates of a top-tier Texas cowboy. Intellectually, he was a titan; he had secured the National Chemistry League trophy for the school almost immediately after transferring. As for looks? He had topped the heartthrob list on day one, dethroning Sam Malik at record speed.
When someone is that handsome, even the most popular quarterback struggles to compete.
If the Board members weren't worried about their professional decorum, they'd likely be popping champagne. This was a lock. Athletics, brains, and looks—honestly, the Board felt that if Locke ran for Congress right now, they couldn't find a reason for him to lose.
...
"Sam Malik only led the football team to the finals; he didn't win the championship. As long as he doesn't have a ring, he's not a huge threat. But this Nina Bell... she's actually a major obstacle for you."
Locke looked at the documents Gwen pulled from her bag. "Did you go to George for this?"
'Was that necessary? It's just a school election, and we're already moving to 'off-field' tactics?'
Locke shook his head. "There's no need to involve George." If he couldn't win a school election on his own, George might think he was incompetent. Plus, if he won, George would probably take all the credit for the "intel intelligence."
Gwen blinked. "What does George have to do with this? These are photocopies from the school archives. Every student has a file there."
"I see," Locke smiled and took the papers.
He flipped through them for a moment. Then, his eyebrow shot up as he looked at Gwen. "You're saying she has a girlfriend?"
Gwen nodded.
'Right.' This was a tough opponent. Not just tough—she was a competitor with maxed-out "Social BUFFs."
Nina Bell: Female. Not a native-born citizen—she arrived six years ago as a refugee.
And the list went on...
She had participated in anti-discrimination marches in '02 and '03 with her parents. In school, she was a member of the Vegan Club and the Animal Protection Society. During her time as Vice President, she had successfully banned all disposable cutlery from the cafeteria on the grounds of environmental protection.
What the... f—?
Female.
Lesbian.
Vegan.
Animal rights activist.
Environmentalist.
If she had just one more trait—she would have the full set of modern social "Infinity Stones."
Locke looked up at Gwen. "So, this is what you called a 'slight' challenge?"
Slight? This is a mountain.
Locke thought he had the upper hand with his "three bombs" and the referee on his side. But Nina Bell was holding a Royal Flush of social justice. How do you play against that?
Should I... make her disappear?
Locke narrowed his eyes. He couldn't afford to break his "undefeated" streak; the karmic backlash would be endless. If he hadn't known about her before declaring his candidacy, he might have hesitated. But now? He considered whether it would be easier to have her have an "accident" or just break her legs so she'd be stuck in a hospital for the next two months.
Gwen looked at him. "Are you scared?"
Locke snapped out of it. "Scared? Me? Impossible."
Gwen laughed. "Then it's fine. We have our own advantages. The school paper, the radio, the TV station—the momentum is on our side."
Locke was silent for a moment. "Can we please stop saying 'momentum is on our side'?" It felt like he was just begging for a Flag to be triggered.
"That doesn't sound like you."
"Doesn't it?"
"No," Gwen nodded, her eyes shining. "The Locke I know is the one who wasn't afraid of anything on the Poseidon, the one who protected me and even fought a shark in the ocean."
Locke smiled. That was because he had a che—wait.
I have a cheat code!
Locke's brow lifted. 'Those who block my path shall find only a dead end.'
So what if she had maxed-out BUFFs? I'm a literal "Cheater." If I lose this, I might as well go jump off a building.
"Alright," Locke laughed, looking at Gwen with serious intent. "You're right. The momentum is on our side."
It was 2005, not 2015. Those BUFFs didn't have the "Instant Win" power they would have ten years later.
Gwen leaned in and gave Locke a quick kiss before tucking the files back into her bag. She'd pulled some strings to get those, and they couldn't be found out. "Let's go."
"Where to?"
"Cindy has a friend whose sister's boyfriend is a photographer for Hollywood stars. He happens to be on vacation in New York. We're going to get some professional shots for your campaign posters."
"..."
Cindy's friend's sister's boyfriend? That was a hell of a connection.
Gwen smiled confidently. "See? This is what I mean by 'momentum.' Does a regular school candidate get a Hollywood photographer? I don't think so."
...
Half an hour later, Gwen rushed into her house. "Mom! Is my dress from last time washed?"
Helen called from the kitchen, "It's in your room—"
Before she could finish, Gwen shouted a thank you and sprinted upstairs. A moment later, she came back down carrying a garment bag. She called out to Helen in the kitchen and George in the living room, "I'm going to take photos with Locke. I'll be back later!"
"Pfft!"
In the living room, George sprayed a mouthful of water across the floor. Helen poked her head out of the kitchen.
George stood up as if he hadn't heard correctly. "What did she say? Photos? With Locke? What kind of photos??"
'Dammit. Where's my gun? The one I bought for hunting this weekend. I found the prey. Where's the gun??'
***
Read 30 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666