Checkmate

21| Traitors

Blake grabs my arm to keep me steady. I stare at Libby, listening to her recite the speech I'd spent the last three years planning. She sounds sweet and eloquent, spinning each word as if it were her own and not stolen from me.

"The future is promising," she says. "It's bright, and it's ours."

Even though several minutes have passed, my brain can't compute this. It's one thing to run against me out of spite, but to steal my old campaign? To use my hard work and pass it off as her own? There's low, and then there's this.

"Are you alright?" Blake asks.

I can only shake my head as Libby wraps up her speech. My speech. Maybe I'm being a little dramatic, but it feels like I'm about to be sick.

When I can't stomach the round of applause, I slip away from Blake and back into the empty hallway. I need air. I need – I don't know what I need, but I need to get away.

Right now, even though he's the brains behind this betrayal, it's not Chase I'm mad at; it's Libby. Knowing what I know about Chase, I'd expect this from him, but Libby? Even if she's perfectly content with being Chase's puppet, this is a step too far.

That's what hurts the most. Some part of me has clung to the idea that one day, we could put this behind us and be friends again. Maybe I'd somehow prove to her that I didn't cheat on Chase, and we could forget this thing ever happened. But there is no forgetting after watching her pass my old campaign off as hers.

This means war.

The door to the auditorium swings open as Blake makes a beeline for me. I ignore him and pace back and forth down the hall, sickened to think that Libby and Chase could do such a thing to someone they once claimed to care for. "She stole my idea," I say, turning to Blake. He's leaning against the lockers opposite, arms folded as he watches me spiral. "Every word of my speech. She's running on my campaign."

"Your old campaign," Blake reminds me.

"It doesn't matter."

His eyebrow furrows. "Your speech is over. You kicked ass. That's all that matters."

I step closer. I'm so angry that I want to do something stupid like kick the locker or scream at the top of my lungs, but as usual, I fight to rein it in. "If you give me another speech about giving them power," I say calmly, "I will kill you."

He grins – he's the kind of masochist who would probably enjoy that – and just like that, I realize he doesn't get it. To him, this is just some stupid campaign, but to me, it means everything. And right now, he's the one person – the only person – I can talk to about this.

"That was my campaign," I say because I need him to understand. If he doesn't, then what are we doing? "I spent years on that planning. I skipped football games and parties to ensure it was perfect, and I don't care that I didn't end up using it – that's not the point. The point is that they knew all that. They saw how hard I worked and how important it was to me, and they still stole it." I shake my head, my chest hot and tight as I clench my hands. "There is nothing I can do about it, either. They know I won't go to the principal. It's not like there's a way I can prove it was my speech first, even if I show Principal Mackley my campaign book. It would only bring more negative attention to me, which is exactly what Chase wants. He's winning, Blake."

I want to look at him, but the idea of meeting his gaze when I feel this vulnerable is terrifying. Instead, I turn to the auditorium as the first few students start to trickle out of the doors, and freeze. Libby's blonde head appears in the crowd, her smile bright with promise. Just like that, I see red.