33
The Rug Pulled Out
I didn’t have to wait long to see Logan. The next day after school, as I dug in my closet for my old laptop full of story ideas, my phone dinged with a text from Nora. I scrambled to open it.
Please come to the office. We have a situation.
My stomach sank. That sounded dire. I thumbed back, On my way and immediately googled The Watcher on the Hill. If news had broken, Daniel Watcher would have it.
It was the top story. In big black letters, the headline screamed “TEA Flips: Teachers Union Recants Arthur Endorsement in Favor of Mane.” In the picture, Governor Mane stood between a beaming Sonny and Kai, hands clasping their shoulders.
It made no sense. The teachers union was one of Logan’s biggest allies—they should’ve been unequivocally on our side, given what Logan was prepared to do with the budget. And they were the people I’d brought in. Why had they betrayed us? I squinted at Sonny’s and Kai’s faces and remembered how oily they’d been at the rally, how they’d angled for preferential treatment. That had something to do with this, I knew it.
I grabbed my bag and raced out the door.
“I won’t lie to you,” Anita said. “This is bad. We were counting on teacher support. Even worse, we’ve positioned Logan as the working-class champion. The fact that a massive labor union switched its allegiance to Mane is, in technical terms, a disaster. Our polling shows a sizeable dip in Logan’s credibility rating.”
Nearly the entire campaign team was stuffed into the large conference room at headquarters, most of us standing in rows against the walls. Nora had offered me a seat at the table, but I’d declined. A real staff member could have it. Instead, I pressed into a corner of the room. Logan had swept in at the last minute, his face grave, and the second our eyes met, my adrenaline spiked, remembering kissing him up against the stacks. But he’d only given me a small, grim smile before sitting at the head of the table, and then it was time for business. The mood in the room was funereal.
“Okay,” Nora said. “That’s hard to swallow, but our job now is to counter the blow with new wins.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” said Cary, not sounding sorry at all. “But do we know what happened? How Mane was able to snake the TEA away from us? In the words of our fearless leader, what the fuck?”
The room broke into murmurs.
“I don’t know if we should dwell—” Nora started, but Logan held up a hand and the room fell silent.
“I just got off the phone with friends who are close to Mane’s campaign. The rumor is Sonny Yarrow and Kai West cut some sort of deal with the governor. He’s not going to change the education budget, but in exchange for the endorsement, they get some sort of personal kickback. No one knows what yet.”
Protests broke out.
“But that means they betrayed every educator in the state,” I burst, and all eyes turned to me, Logan’s included.
He nodded. “We knew they were trouble, remember? Our instincts were right. It’s my fault for taking my eyes off them.” He looked down at his hands, which were clutched on the conference table.
“We should tell people,” I said. “The rest of the union will be livid.”
He shook his head. “We would need proof, and that’s hard to get. I think Nora’s right. There’s no time to dwell on things we can’t change. Election day is in three weeks. Right now, we have to focus all our attention on new wins.”
“Logan’s going to reach out to the head of every major association that hasn’t already chosen a side,” Nora said. “For the next few days, he’s going to be physically attached to the phone, so if you need him for something, don’t. Everyone else, I want you knocking on doors, making personal connections with voters. Don’t let Mane signs in front yards stop you.” She shot a look at Logan and he nodded. “All right, people. Let’s bring this home.”
She and Logan rose and hurried out, and the rest of us filed after them. Once I’d made it out of the conference room, I stood in the middle of the bullpen and bit my lip, eyeing Logan’s closed door. He was obviously busy. I probably shouldn’t bother him. But Zoey had told me to insist I was important, too, worth prioritizing. Besides, there would always be one reason or another not to have this conversation with Logan. I just had to go for it.
Resolved, I marched to his office and knocked on the door. “Make it quick,” he barked.
I opened the door and his face changed the instant he saw me. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.”
Logan had looked grave but composed in the conference room. Now, in private, it was like he’d taken off a mask. He sat behind a desk piled with stacks of paper and sticky notes, anxiety radiating from him, etching exhausted lines into his handsome face. He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “If you want to talk about leaking the deal Sonny and Kai made, trust me, I wish we could, but I just don’t have time to work out a strategy.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” My God, my heart was pounding so fast you’d think I was lining up in front of a firing squad. You’re worth it, I reminded myself, and planted myself directly in front of his desk. “I wanted to talk about yesterday. In the library.”
He swallowed. “Lex, I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time right now.”
I tried not to flinch. “I know you’re busy, but it’s important we talk about what happened. Sooner, rather than later.”
The phone on his desk started ringing and he glanced at it, then back at me. “Can we just wait until this dies down? Every minute I’m not on the phone with someone is a minute closer this campaign comes to crashing and burning.”
I could feel disappointment crashing against the gates of my heart. “Just five minutes,” I whispered, nearly wincing at how pathetic it sounded. But part of me refused to believe this moment was unfolding this way.
The phone rang one last time and Logan lunged for it. He pressed a hand to the receiver. “I’m sorry, Lex, I have to take this.” Then his voice brightened. “Senator Wortham, thanks for getting back to me on such short notice.”
I stood there blinking at him. Logan wasn’t even looking at me anymore. He was nodding and trying to reach a stack of papers at the farthest edge of his desk, like I didn’t exist.
I knew this feeling. I was twelve years old and small again. A second-tier priority. You would’ve thought I’d be used to it by now, but the riot of feelings in my chest was as fierce and fresh as the first time. Zoey’s voice floated back: If he brushes you off, you have your answer. Message received, Logan Arthur.
I pushed the papers closer so he could reach them, then fled as fast as I could.