Page 2 of The Thorne at My Side
“No, I was working.”
“You know, wild idea here, but you could meet someone at work.”
“I could, but I honestly don’t have time for dating. I’m working constantly.” Even when I’m sleeping I hear Senator Quinn delivering her stump speech.
“It’s not healthy to work all the time, you need something else in your life.” Liz says.
“Are you a therapist now or something?” I challenge.
“No, but I have lived experience and years of inspirational quotes from social media wisdom to share with the people.”
The girls continue talking on their end like I”m not here as I undo the button at the top of my pants and feel my body take up a little more space with the freedom.
“Oo, look at this one,” Liz gasps and I hear the phone muffle as she passes it to one of the other girls in the room.
“Holy shit!”
“That can’t be real.”
I’ll never admit it but my interest is piqued and I am tempted to ask Liz to send it to me.
“Maybe you should just camp out near the hockey arena? Athletes in suits? It’s unfair.”
“I’d never date an athlete.” I say, a professional athlete doesn’t fit the Ideal Partner profile I’ve created.
“Wait, that guy isn’t an athlete, but you can’t tell by looking at him, it says down here in the caption.” Liz starts reading, “DC Renegades Captain Felix Fournier pictured leavingopening night at The Ned with long time off-ice buddy, Au–”
“Liz, I don’t really care, I’m not going to use a random social media account to find a date.”
“Feels like a missed opportunity.” She mutters.
“Be that as it may, I’m going to make dinner and go to bed. I’ll talk to you later.”
“The account is MenInSuitsDC if you need something to look at in bed later!” The girls start giggling and I roll my eyes.
“Bye Lizzard,” I say quietly.
“Bye Maybe.” She says gently and the call ends.
I hang up and sink into my chair. My studio apartment is maybe 400 square feet total but the distance from this side of the room to my kitchen where a microwavable dinner waits in the freezer feels like an impossible journey. Every bone in my body is tired. Traveling is always exhausting because of the extra planning I have to put in before I leave. I close my eyes and mentally replay the last week.
The thousands of people at the rallies to see her speaking, endless small towns like the one I grew up in, the motorcade of cars that snakes down country highways, the campaign team who make sure that everything is set up and ready to go. And then when she starts speaking, everything fades away and I can only focus on the words I crafted.
At this point she has the stump speech memorized, but with only a few months until the election I’ll need to revise it and create new versions that go deeper into detail. There will be debates and in depth interviews as I get America to believe in her. I’ll get up in a minute, microwave dinner, and start working on outlining the variations I’ll need to draft.
But I don’t get up, instead I fall asleep in my work clothes in the oversized chair in the corner of my apartment.
CHAPTER 1
“Are you high?”
MAGGIE
“Maggie I don’t care how good your date was last night, you need to focus.” Sam Gibson, my second in command, scolds over the phone.
“Trust me, I was not thinking about Mike,” I report. Mike, who was beige in every way. So beige that I didn’t even consider taking him home. Another date to add to the growing list of men that won’t get a second date with me. Little does Sam know, but my mind is stuck on the vague and ever-evolving image of a mystery man. My ideal man. The man I have yet to meet but after years of looking I feel closer to meeting than ever before.
Sam sighs and repeats herself. “This article says, over half, 54%, of students surveyed said they think using AI for school work is cheating."
