Ethan
The morning after the debate was a surreal experience. My phone had exploded. I woke up to a hundred new notifications, a dozen texts from people I barely knew, and a group chat with my friends that was nothing but a string of memes of my face photoshopped onto the poster for The Bodyguard.
Jake had texted me at 3 AM: "Dude. You're a campus legend. And a total disaster."
I scrolled through the student blog, a groan escaping my lips. The video was everywhere. The clip of me catching Olivia was on a loop, every angle analyzed. Someone had even slowed it down and added heart emojis. My calculated, strategic campaign to prove my father wrong had morphed into a campus romance narrative overnight.
This was not part of the plan.
I'd meant to rattle her, to expose the fact that she was all policy and no passion. I'd hit her with the budget deficit jab, and I'd seen the flash of hurt in her eyes before the anger. It was a cheap shot, and I knew it. But in the heat of the moment, I'd wanted to win. Then the feedback screech had hit, and she'd stumbled.
My reaction had been pure instinct. I saw her falling, and I moved. It wasn't a political calculation. For one second, she wasn't my rival; she was just a girl about to face-plant on stage. The feeling of her pressed against me, the surprised look in her dark, intelligent eyes… it had felt real. Too real.
I threw my phone onto my bed and headed for the gym. I needed to sweat out the confusion. As I was lifting, Jake found me, a coffee in each hand.
"Your chariot awaits, Romeo," he said, handing me a cup.
"Don't start," I grumbled, re-racking the weights with a loud clang.
"I'm not starting anything. The entire university is. You two are the biggest story since that professor got caught living in his office. 'Ethivia.' 'Olihan.' They're workshopping the couple name."
"It's a disaster," I said, running a hand through my sweaty hair. "This was supposed to be about me proving I can be a leader, not one half of a will-they-won't-they soap opera."
"Well, you definitely look like a leader. A leading man, anyway," Jake said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Look, man, I'm just going to say it. The way you looked at her… that wasn't just for the cameras."
"What are you, my therapist?"
"No, I'm the guy who's known you since we were kids. You get a certain look when you're genuinely interested in a girl. A little less smirk, a little more… focus. You had that look last night."
I didn't want to admit it, but he was right. There was something about Olivia Chen that got under my skin. It wasn't just that she was smart and beautiful, which she undeniably was. It was her fire. The way she refused to be intimidated by me. The way her mind worked, so sharp and precise. She was a challenge, and I'd never been able to resist a challenge.
"It doesn't matter," I said, grabbing a towel. "She hates me. Especially after I brought up the budget."
"Yeah, that was a dick move," Jake agreed. "You should probably apologize."
"Apologize? We're in the middle of a campaign. It would look weak."
"It would look human," he countered. "Something her supporters think you're not, and something your supporters would be surprised to see."
His words stuck with me all day. The fallout from the debate was clear. My popularity had soared, but it was all superficial. I was the charming hero, the knight in shining armor. Her camp was painting me as an opportunist who had used the moment for political gain. The truth was, I didn't know what I was.
Later that afternoon, I saw her walking across the main lawn. She was on the phone, pacing back and forth, a deep frown on her face. She was probably talking to her campaign manager, trying to figure out how to spin this. How to regain control. Control was everything to her.
Mia was with her, gesticulating wildly, probably offering a dozen different social media strategies. Olivia just kept pacing, one hand pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked stressed. And, for the first time, she looked vulnerable.
I thought about what Jake had said. It would look human.
Against my better judgment, I started walking towards her. I didn't know what I was going to say. 'Sorry I called you out'? 'Sorry I accidentally made us into a campus meme'?
She saw me coming. Her eyes narrowed, and she said something into the phone and hung up. She stood her ground, arms crossed, waiting for me. A lioness defending her territory.
"What do you want now, Brooks?" she asked as I approached, her voice tired but still sharp. "Come to gloat?"
"No, actually," I said, stopping a few feet from her. I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. "I, uh… I wanted to say that what I said about the budget… it was a low blow. You're a good treasurer. The deficit isn't your fault."
Olivia stared at me, her expression unreadable. She seemed genuinely taken aback. Mia's jaw was practically on the grass.
"You're apologizing?" Olivia said, disbelief lacing her tone.
"Looks that way," I said with a half-shrug. "Don't get used to it."
She was silent for a long moment, studying my face as if trying to solve a complex puzzle. "Why?"
"Because it was a cheap shot," I admitted. "And because this whole thing…" I gestured vaguely, indicating the students who were now blatantly staring at us, whispering and pointing. "This isn't what I wanted."
"What did you want, Brooks?" she asked, her voice softer now, laced with genuine curiosity.
I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her about my father, about the pressure, about the need to prove I was more than just a name. But the words wouldn't come. It was too much, too real.
"A fair fight," I said instead. "May the best candidate win."
I gave her a small, genuine smile, not my usual smirk. It felt strange on my face. Then I turned and walked away before she could respond, leaving her standing there with a look of profound confusion on her beautiful, sharp face.
I might be a disaster, as Jake had said. But maybe, just maybe, I could also be human.