"Mankind must put an end to war, or war will put an end to mankind." --John F. Kennedy.
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It was all over the news that following morning. 'The Presidential Pummel' regarding the new vice president's fist fight with the prime minister of Canada. What's worse was that the news channels were getting the story all wrong.
Michelle, who was watching the news in the hotel room, said, "so do you want to tell me what happened last night? These news channels are all saying Eliot and Dylan were fighting over you."
"That's not what happened," Roselle said, sinking her face into her pillow. "And what happened with you and Eliot? I thought you were hitting on him."
She laughed. "I was, but then I realized he was stupid. Like, really stupid. I was asking him basic questions about the country and his plan for the economy, and he didn't know any of it."
"He told me he was trying to get away from you because you were annoying."
"Nah, he was trying to get away from me because I realized he was dumb and his ego got bruised."
"Anyway, Eliot was being a huge jerk. Apparently he and Dylan are cousins, and he has a gambling addiction. He was asking for money to feed his addiction, and when Dylan said no, he started assaulting him. How did he even get elected?"
"Well, I hear he used the fact that he was Dylan's cousin as a way to get into power."
"Think he'll get impeached?"
"Nah. His party is gonna protect that guy. They'll do everything they can to keep him in office. Now for the real exciting question: what's up with you and the prime minister of Canada?" Michelle raised both her eyebrows repeatedly. "You guys getting saucy?"
Roselle's face turned rosy red. "It's not like that . . ."
"I believe that for approximately zero seconds."
She sighed. "Well, okay. I really like him, and I think he likes me too. Last night we really had a moment and he even let me borrow his blanket."
"You mean that blanket over there?" her sister pointed.
Roselle turned her head, and to her surprise, Dylan's fluffy blanket with the stitched bunny was sitting on the table. "Oh my gosh!" she squealed, running up to it. "I have to return this to him." She texted him, asking for a meetup.
Roselle: Hey Dylan, last night was pretty crazy, huh? Have you seen the news?
Dylan: Yeah . . . That's gonna put a dent in both our political careers lol
Roselle: I can't believe they're trying to paint it that you guys had a fist fight over me.
Dylan: Well . . . Technically we did, but not in that way haha.
Roselle: I'm sorry.
Dylan: Don't be. I'd fight for you a hundred more times if I had to.
Roselle: *blushes* Really?
Dylan: Yeah. One hundred is the maximum though xD
Roselle: Yeah . . . By the way, I still have your blanket. I never got to return it to you because of everything that happened. Do you want me to give it to you?"
Dylan: How about I come by later and pick it up.
Roselle: Yeah, that'd be cool.
Dylan: And we can go on a date later :)
Roselle: What should I wear?
Dylan: Just something casual. See you later!
Roselle: See you soon <3
Roselle was floating on air, smiling, staring at her phone, and rereading the conversation over and over again.
"Oh, look! Someone's happy," Michelle teased. "So what did he say?"
"He said he wants to go out later!"
The girls clasped hands together and happy-danced in a circle.
"So do you like him?" Michelle asked. "Like, do you think he's boyfriend material?"
"I mean, he's really sweet, but he's the prime minister . . . and I'm just me. Our lives are completely different. I'm also still processing what happened between me and Armani. What if--"
"Stop overthinking everything, okay? It's just a date. You're not getting married. If it works out then great. If not, then at least you tried. You're gonna rock it."
She shrugged. "We'll see."
* * *
Dylan brought Roselle to a board game café. It was a place that let you rent a board game by the hour, and people could also buy snacks and play at the arcade. It had a retro ambiance with neon colors everywhere, and it was aesthetically pleasing to her.
The two sat there casually, eating pizza and playing chess. It was a little more awkward now that she wasn't drunk.
"This is nice," she said, moving one of her pieces.
"Yeah," replied Dylan, doing the same.
"So," Roselle said, trying to break the silence. "Does playing chess help you as a military strategist somehow?"
"I hope not, because I'm terrible at this game." He chuckled. "You're funny, Lily."
She was taken aback. "Lily?"
Dylan scanned her for a moment, and then realized his error. "Oh my, I'm so sorry. I meant Roselle."
"Now that I think about it, last night, Eliot mentioned something about Lily when he said you were looking for a new girl. And when Lily saw you, there was a look on her face . . . She was so concerned. Were you guys a thing?"
He exhaled. "Yeah, Lily and I were together for a short time about a year ago."
"What happened? Were you guys serious?"
"Well, at the time, though brief, I truly thought she was the love of my life. Her father didn't approve of me though. He hated me, and he hated my political views. He told her if she didn't break up with me he would cut her off, and well . . . She made her choice."
Roselle patted him on the shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
"Ehh, it was a long time ago. I'm over it. I even attended their engagement party, right?" He smiled, but Roselle saw right through his pain.
"Do you still love her?"
"I'm not going to lie to you. I do, and I always will, but I have learned to accept what happened and I can move on." He rubbed her thumb on her hand. "I would rather learn to care for someone else. Someone like you."
She nodded. "I'd like that too."
They spent the rest of the evening playing various games and eating pizza. It was nice, but in the back of Roselle's mind she kept thinking about Lily. She had already lost Armani to her, and now Dylan was in love with her too? How many men would she lose to this woman? What was so special about her?
* * *
Dylan walked Roselle to her hotel room. "Well, here we are," he said.
"Thank you for taking me out tonight. I had a good time."
She stared at him for moments, batting her eyes and trying to look cute. She was giving him 'the look', which was a face girls made when they wanted to signal to the guy they like that they want them to kiss them. Seconds went by, and he was just looking at her. He wasn't doing anything. 'Take the bait!' she thought to herself. She tried making the look even harder by flipping her hair and tilting her head. It was getting ridiculous.
"Are you okay?" Dylan asked. "What's happening with your face?"
She stopped trying to give the look. Obviously, this boy couldn't take a hint. "Nothing," she said in defeat.
"I'm flying back to Canada tomorrow, but I'll try to come back as soon as I can."
"Alright."
"I should get going." He turned to leave.
"Wait!" Roselle grabbed his wrist. If he wouldn't do it, she would. She moved in close and put her arms around his neck. He slowly placed his hands on her hips. She leaned in to kiss him, and he leaned in too, but at the last second he pulled away and untangled them.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"I have to go." Dylan rushed down the hallway, leaving Roselle all alone.
The door swung open, and Michelle was there, gaping her jaw. "What just happened?"
"You were spying on me?!"
"Well, yeah. I was curious. You guys were so close, but he rejected you. Ouch."
Roselle came into the room and sank into the bed. She grabbed a pillow, and screamed in it. "What's wrong with me?! Why am I so undesirable?!"
"Calm down, maybe he's just conservative and doesn't believe in PDA or something."
"That's not it." She hugged her knees. "He's still in love with Lily. He said so."
"Lily? Like, Lily Strobe? Same billionaire that took your last man?"
"That's the one, believe it or not." She stared at the ceiling. "Is there any man on the planet who's not in love with that woman? Just one?"
There was a knock at the door.
"Go away!" Roselle screamed.
"Hey, don't say that," Michelle said. "That might be the pizza delivery guy."
This time, the knocker was banging.
"Coming," Michelle said, walking over to the door. She opened it. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
Standing there was the future Vice President, Eliot Scott.