by John Scalzi
“That’s a very interesting moral compass you have there,” James said.
“I’m not going to argue that point,” Latasha said. “And now you know why I had David sign my program requirement letter first. On the other hand, that moral compass of mine is about to give you a boost.” She nodded to the resignation letter. “Everything I just told you is in that letter, and I also talk about why the mayor and the council are planning to endorse Nukka Farn Mu. They’ll deny it, of course, but it will be enough to keep them from publicly endorsing him. Which is enough to keep you in the race through this next Tuesday.”
“What if I refuse to make this resignation letter public?” David said. “Maybe I want to see if I can win on my own. I’d like to think I can beat a pet-eater.”
Latasha looked over at James. “Hey, don’t look at me for help,” James said, to her. “I love the guy for his clueless gumption.”
Latasha smiled at this. “That’s an admirable thought, David, and I appreciate your faith in yourself. But, yeah, you’d get slaughtered,” she said. “So I went ahead and took the precaution of mailing copies of that resignation letter to local and national news. Thanks to your adventure last night, this race is big news, and this will keep it in the spotlight a little bit longer. That’ll be good for you. And I’ll spin it so it’s good for me, too.” She glanced over to David’s blank tablet. “So I’d turn that on soon, if I were you.”
“I don’t know what to say to you right now,” David said, to Latasha.
“I understand,” she said. “If you figure out what to say later, let me know. But either way, you’re welcome. And good luck, David.” She left the house.
After several minutes of silence David reached over and turned on the tablet. It started buzzing immediately.
“I just want to tell you good luck again,” Fuin Suh said, to David, at the election night party at his house. “After you came to speak to me, I went and told all the parishioners at The Church of the Penetrating Gods. We all voted for you.”
“How lovely,” James said, standing next to David, who was too tense to be pleasant. “And how many parishioners might that be?”
“About a hundred,” Fuin said. “It’s all very exciting!”
“Isn’t it, though,” James said, and shook Fuin’s hand. “Thanks again for coming to the party. Please, enjoy yourself. And try the fruit skewers. I think you’ll like them.”
“Oooh, fruit skewers,” Fuin said, and wandered off.
“Your election party will go off better if you actually speak to people,” James said, to David. “It’s just a suggestion.”
“If I talk too much I think I might throw up,” David said.
“Oh, relax,” James said. “You’re not going to throw up.”
“Student body treasurer race,” David said, tightly.
“Okay, point,” James said, and maneuvered his husband to the sofa. “Here, you sit. I will get you a drink. Maybe two. Maybe five.”
“Great,” David said. “Nothing like being tense and drunk at the same time.”
“The first results are in!” Someone said, near the monitor.
“Make it a dozen,” David called to James.
At eight o’clock Nukka Farn Mu led David by eight hundred votes.
At nine o’clock Nukka Farn Mu had pulled away to 1,100 votes up.
“I’m going to go hide the cat,” James said.
“We don’t have a cat,” David said.
“Good God, Nukka Farn Mu’s reign of terror has already begun,” James exclaimed.
“You’re not helping,” David said.
At ten o’clock Nukka Farn Mu’s lead had dropped to five hundred votes.
At eleven o’clock it was down to two hundred.
At midnight David was up by three.
At one o’clock, with all the votes counted, David had won by 105.
“I told you we all voted for you!” Fuin Suh said, around her tenth fruit skewer, as the balloons finally fell.
“So you did,” James said. “Bless you.” Fuin smiled and hopped off to celebrate with her friends.
“I don’t believe it,” David said. “It actually happened. I actually pulled it off.”
“You sure did,” James said.
“Now what do I do?” David said. His tablet buzzed; the incoming call was from Nukka Farn Mu.
“Start by taking that concession call,” James said. “Then give an acceptance speech. Then tell everyone to get out of the house because it’s late. Figure the rest out later.” He gave his hubby a peck on the cheek and then wandered into the crowd to mingle.
David wondered just a moment at everything that happened over the last three weeks, shook his head in disbelief, and took the call from Nukka Farn Mu. “Hello, this is David Sawyer,” he said.
“You may think this is over, but it’s not,” growled Nukka Farn Mu. “I demand a recount.”
David smiled at this. This is going to be a whole new kind of fun, he thought. I think I’ll like it.
“Bring it, pet snacker,” David said, and hung up.