“So, this is the school SGA office,” tour guide Alan said.

Former middle school SGA president Ray gazed at the sign, thinking, “That’s where I’m gonna be.”

And thus began Ray’s downward journey from the school presidency.

A few minutes later, a similar statement came up.
“Yeah, so this is the SGA office, where the SGA does whatever they do.”

Inexperienced Darius read the sign. “Interesting…”

And thus began Darius’ upward journey to the school presidency.
A few days passed, and Ray learned the process of the election. Potential candidates would get signatures on a petition, turn that in, perform their speeches, then the voting would start.
During his first period, Ray passed his freshmen election petition sheet around the classroom. Some signed, some didn’t. Ray heard clear voices articulating “Why would I vote for Ray?” and “Ew, Ray.” Not only did this hurt his inner confidence and morale, it spread the hate to people who didn’t have any predisposed opinion towards Ray.

Later in the day, Ray walked to lunch, wondering why his old friends from middle school would now betray him by intentionally avoiding voting for him. He felt broken, and didn’t know whether to go through with this or simply stop “walking” for president. Several thoughts scrambled around inside his head. He questioned what was occurring around him, why it was happening, what he was doing wrong, how he could fix it, and if there was a clear and definite way to win. There wasn’t.

With his petition in his hand, he asked his good friend Sam to sign his petition.

“Hey, I’m running for freshmen president! Can you sign my petition please?”

She replied, “Well, Darius is running, and he’s cute. No thanks.”

Ray was struck by Sam’s sudden shallowness. Had they not been friends since the beginning of middle school? Had they not helped each other out in times of need and supported each other through struggles?
Ray wanted to see who this Darius character was as he saw people talk about him in such positive manners. He eagerly strolled down to the basement of the school, where most of the freshmen ate lunch. As he was walking along the hallway to no end, he heard, “Hey, are you Ray?”

He determined where the voice was coming from. He saw a pale, thin man sitting down. “Yeah, what’s your name?”

“Darius.”

“Oh, you’re running for president, too? Good luck!”

“Yeah man. You too.”

Ray sat down, opened his brown paper bag, and starting eating his lunch. And Darius and Ray had met.

For the next few days, Ray really tried. Around the school, he hung up several posters with completely irrelevant and cheesy slogans in order to get more votes.

Darius did not.

At night, Ray was up late trying to perfect a speech, totally scrapping and rewriting it every once in a while. He asked for help from others, which proved futile. The speech was due the next day, and he was getting worried that when he would finish, it would be hastily completed. And it was completed exactly that way, not to Ray’s surprise.

Ray assumed that simultaneously, Darius wrote his speech in an efficient manner and got it done with. Ray thought that Darius had not worked as hard or put in as much time, but the actual quality of Darius’ speech was much higher as seen by everyone on filming day.

Filming day arrived. The candidates would all stand in front a camera and deliver their speech. Ray thought of it as “saying” the speech. Previously in school elections (which he had won), he simply wrote a speech and read it aloud. He did not project his voice or change his tone, and for this reason he had messed up on some parts. Ray was strictly attached to the script rather than the actual idea or concept. And it was for this reason that he saw the contrast between the free and flexible aspects of Darius’ speech with his own rigid and scripted method.

While speaking, Ray stumbled upon words out of nervousness at times, while at other times he sounded awkward out of overconfidence. He realized this might have stemmed from his lack of informal conversational skills. His speech was poor and mediocre at best due to its clichéd tone and incoherent message. Unfortunately, Ray saw this after reading it aloud at the podium.
While delivering his speech, Darius did what no other candidate had done before. He poked fun at school elections, wore a dashing suit, and stripped down to a ripped dress shirt as an attention-grabbing joke. Everyone laughed as he did so, including Ray.

Viewing and voting day had arrived soon. Social studies classes would see the video with the speeches and make their decisions on who the class officers would be. Ray and Darius were in the same social studies period, in Room 214. Ray had always noticed Darius’ natural charisma as he socialized with other classmates. This trait was not even remotely present within himself, Ray sadly knew.
In his academic and extracurricular activities, his mom always had a strong sense of competition. She had always taught him to be aggressive and never settle for anything less than first. He had grown up in this aggressive environment concerning small things like math quizzes to bigger things like competitions. He grew to dislike those who won or were about to win against him, and this dislike had sometimes grown to hate, splitting two close friends into acquaintances, then slowly into people barely knowing one another. This applied here: Ray had started to dislike Darius from the events with Sam, and now really disliked him.
During the video, Ray saw his own behavior sharply contrast with that of Darius’.
Ray was worried, not knowing why. He saw himself winning that afternoon, but also saw a more realistic image of him losing. Darius was hopeful and optimistic.

Ray was embarrassed, shivering. Darius was confident, smiling and laughing as the class snickered at both Ray’s and Darius’ jokes.

Ray was tense. Darius was relaxed.

After uneasily watching the video of his failure, Ray saw the teacher hand out the voting slips. On Ray’s slip, a checkmark rested in one of the boxes. That box rested next to Darius’ name. Everyone voted and turned in their slips.

A few hours later, the afternoon announcements came on, and Mr. Gerry announced the new officers.

Darius won, of course.

Ray somewhat expected this to happen, but was still unsure if he was surprised or not. He put his head down on his desk, going into a state of isolation. No sound surrounded him apart from the moan of loss. It seemed to Ray that he could only hear the past, not the present. Voices from the speech and campaigning towards new people echoed in his head, as he tried to contemplate how this all happened and what mistakes he made.

The bell rang, quietly to Ray’s ears.

He walked to his locker, attempting to put a smile on his face. He heard some others say words of encouragement to boost his mood, near-futile attempts. He grabbed his belongings and left.

After getting onto the bus, he heard those presently sitting engage in a light applause. And clap more. They exclaimed “Ray!!!” He didn’t know if this was a cruel act of sarcasm or a genuine show of kindness and compassion. He took it for the latter. He sat down with Drew, a sophomore who had recently become his friend. Drew apologized for Ray’s loss, and Ray thanked him. A silent bus ride full of Muse and OK Go followed.

Upon his arrival at home, Ray went to his desk and did his homework as if it was a normal day.


Ray and Darius were acquaintances outside of Room 214, as they ate lunch in the same friends circle and worked together on different projects. Inside of Room 214, the situation was completely different. Ray hated Darius, and Darius was indifferent towards Ray.
Over time, Ray started to talk to Darius, and he started by congratulating him on the presidential victory. And they became better acquaintances.

They chatted and talked more, and Ray helped Darius with SGA functions. And they became friends.

They started hanging out and eating lunch with some of Darius’ friends from middle school. And they became good friends.

They hung out more and telling each other about the complexities of their lives, learning more about each other. They became wingmen at the school dance. They partnered up at a huge Model United Nations conference in Washington, D.C. And they became best friends.

By this time, it was the end of their freshmen year in high school. For the next three years, they became extremely close and were considered “bros” by their class. These years passed by quickly.

It was college results time. They both applied to Princeton University, with one of the two being much less hopeful than the other.

The envelopes arrived at their homes. Ray and Darius had agreed to meet at the park to read their letters together.
Ray held his envelope in his hand. Darius did the same.
They each opened their envelope and grasped the folded acceptance-rejection letter.
Simultaneously, they took a deep breath and said, “Okay. One… Two… Three.”
They unfolded the letters and read them all within a few seconds.
One of them began: “I regret to inform you…”