"Sure."

"Alright. Alright. Do either of you have any--any final statements?"

"I think Wilbur is--he's offering tradition. And that's not a bad thing! This is my second year in this study group, and if he hadn't founded it, if we didn't both believe in its mission, we wouldn't be here. But I'm offering, I'm offering change. I'm offering mended bridges with Tampa. And I think that's what we need right now."

"Respectfully, Tampa took our supplies in a time of need. Mending bridges with them is the opposite of what we need. I trust--I trust that everyone else here can see that. Alex is making promises, he's saying buzzwords. I've led this group for over a year now. What I have that he doesn't have is, it's not tradition, it's experience. You know I can follow through on my promises because if I didn't none of us would be here, a fact which my opponent admitted.

Thank you, Toby, that's all."

"Do we--shake hands now, or what?"

"Yeah, okay, why not." Wilbur spits in his hand before shaking; Alex mirrors him.

Wilbur doesn't sleep well, that night. He's up before curfew, pacing his room; as soon as the bell marks its end, he heads to Tommy's room.

..........Blink. Blink.

"Wilbur?"

"No, Tommy, it's Phil, somehow in the scholomance with you. Who else are you expecting."

"No one, you just startled me, it's 6 in the bloody morning."

"Well, rise and shine, today's the elections."

"Yeah, during study group, which is after class, not before breakfast. Why are you here."

"Couldn't sleep. But that's not the point."

"Could've fooled me. Breakfast isn't for another two hours, Wil."

"Are you--" Pause. "What do you think of Alex? Like, really think, not just--what makes me feel good to hear."

"I think... Fuck, I dunno, man. Give a man some time to wake up. Alex seems nice, but I'm--I'm always on your side, you know that. I'm voting for you."

"Okay. Okay. Sure." Deep breath. "But I know you-- I mean, you've been hanging out with Clay, right? --I'm not mad."

"Yeah. I mean, Clay is my friend, I think. He's cool."

"Tommy. Tommy, look at me. They took everything from us! He— You don’t understand, Tommy. You weren’t there. You can go around, buddy up with Tampa, you weren’t there when they tried to kill us. Because that’s what they did! They took our alarm, which they knew, they knew it was our alarm for mals, and left us defenseless. And we were attacked. Because obviously we were going to be attacked, alone, with no alarm, thinking we were safe. That’s what they do, Tommy. Clay? You can play him your little fucking music box all you want. He doesn’t give a shit about you. None of them give a shit about you, about any of us. That’s why we have to stay away from them. As long as we’re relying on them, to not fuck us over, we’re not safe."

"I, I agree with you. I just… I just think you’re being a bit harsh."

"A little harsh--! They--"

Deep breath.

"Tommy. I trust you, alright? If you think—if you really want to vote for Alex—I think you should do whatever your heart tells you to do."

"No. Wil, I’m, I’m on your side. You know that. I’m your right hand man. Of course I’m gonna vote for you. I'm with you a hundred percent of the way."

"Okay. Okay." Deep breaths. Deep breaths. "That's--good! Great! Just-- be careful, okay?"

You're the one wandering the hallways alone at 6 o clock in the morning, Tommy doesn't say, because it wouldn't be helpful. "Of course. Careful is my middle name. Tommy Careful Ingram, that's me."

"Sure." Wilbur laughs, and it's like a tension leaves the room. "Fuuuuck, I'm tired."