“What do you think about my idea for a weekly study hall?” Courtney asked.
“I like it.” I tapped a pen on the table. “But that would require the commitment of a lot of juniors and seniors. I’m willing to do my part, but I don’t want it to fall completely on us.” I hoped our members would step up, but I knew how busy they were, how busy we all were.
“Good point.” Courtney made a note. “I’ll touch base with our members and see what they’re willing to do. We’ll need to get moving on it soon.”
Hanima leaned over to see that we’d come to the end of my agenda. “Can I bring in some new business?”
“Sure.” I looked up from the agenda. “What do you have?”
She slapped a pink flyer on the table in front of me. “This.”
I squinted at the flyer. VVU Homecoming Court—Apply Now!
“Okay…” I’d gone to VVU’s homecoming football games for the past three years, but I’d never paid much attention to the homecoming court presentation. I didn’t understand why she was showing me the flyer because it had nothing to do with WIE.
“I want to nominate you,” Hanima said.
“What? Why?” My face puckered like I’d tasted something sour. “That’s for sorority girls.” I had nothing against the Greek community, but that wasn’t my scene.
“Most of the court is made up of sorority girls and frat boys, but that’s not a requirement,” Hanima said, and I had no doubt she’d thoroughly researched it. “You just have to have an organization sponsor you.”
“She’s right,” Courtney said, and I knew with certainty that they’d conspired before mentioning this to me. “Last year, the girl who won was sponsored by the Christian Student Association.”
“That’s great and all, but I don’t know why you think I would want to do it.” The thought of putting myself on display and trying to convince people to vote for me made me itchy, as if I were already breaking out in anxiety-caused hives.
“Hear me out,” Hanima said. “Part of being on the court is promoting a platform. You’ve got a platform.”
“Like a charity?” I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”
Hanima sighed, like she was talking to a petulant toddler. “Yes, you do. Technology education for girls.”
Last spring, I’d won a grant to speak at an education conference about the importance of encouraging girls to pursue studies in science and technology. It was a subject I was passionate about, but I didn’t have a lot of time to devote to it because I was too busy making sure my grades were high enough to keep my scholarship. I wouldn’t be a very good role model if I had to drop out of the program.
“I still don’t see the point of my being on the homecoming court, though.”
“Have you ever voted?” Nicole chimed in.
I shook my head. I vaguely remembered seeing tables set up around campus during homecoming week, but like the homecoming game, I’d never paid them much attention.
“You vote by adding change to each candidate’s jar,” Nicole explained. “Whoever gets the most money wins, but win or lose, the money raised by the candidate goes to their cause.”
“Oh.” That made a lot of sense. Otherwise, what was the point of each candidate having a platform?
“I already called Bleaksburg Middle School, and they have a summer program specifically for girls in STEM,” Hanima said. “The money you raise could pay the tuition for an underprivileged girl who otherwise wouldn’t be able to attend.”
That definitely sweetened the deal, but people would actually have to vote for me for it to make any difference. My friends were forgetting that small but important detail. I couldn’t pull in the votes like a sorority girl.
“I’m not going to get a lot of votes,” I said. “It would be easier to throw a couple of twenties to the middle school and call it a day.”
Hanima scoffed. “Engineering is one of the biggest majors on campus. You’ll get votes.”
“Another bonus is that having you on the homecoming court would give a lot of visibility to WIE,” Courtney added. “It would be something the organization could showcase for years.”
Groaning, I rested my face in my hands. I felt like I’d been ambushed. The girls knew exactly which of my buttons to push.
“Stop looking like they’re asking you to punch a kitten,” Nicole said. “It could be fun.”
Fun? She had to be kidding me. I couldn’t think of anything fun about putting myself on display for the entire student body to judge me. No, thank you.
“Then why don’t you do it?” I shot back.
“I would never make it past the interview.” She pointed at her mouth. “No filter, remember?”
“Don’t look at me,” Hanima said. “I’m too awkward.”
“No, you’re not,” I said automatically. But she kind of was, which only made me like her more. What could I say? Aside from Carson, my most favorite people were awkward. It was nice not to be the weirdest one in the room… except now.
Hanima brushed her hair back. “It’s okay. There’s a reason I spend all of my time with computers and not people.”
“My resumé isn’t strong enough,” Courtney said before I could point my finger at her. “I’m going to be a badass mechanical engineer, but that’s about all I have going for me. I wouldn’t get past the application phase.”
I tapped my fingernail against my front teeth, which was an annoying habit. “What makes you think I would? It’s basically just a popularity contest.”
“Not to get on the court,” Hanima corrected. “Faculty and alumni choose. It’s not like high school, where people are rewarded for being shallow nitwits.”
I raised my eyebrows and exchanged a look with Nicole. Hanima obviously had some unresolved feelings about her time in high school. I understood that. I hadn’t been popular in high school, but I’d experienced most of the perks that went with the territory because of Carson and Roman, who had been immensely popular. Neither of them had been on homecoming court because they hadn’t wanted the complication since they played football, but Carson had won prom king. It hadn’t been a big deal because he hadn’t made it one. While he always made the most of being the center of attention, he hadn’t actually cared about winning.
“We can announce that you’re running at the pizza party,” Courtney said. “It’ll be a good way for the freshmen to get involved with the organization and the school.”
“I haven’t agreed to it,” I said, exasperated.
“Yet,” Nicole said. “You know you’re going to, so you might as well get it over with.”
“Applications are due Friday,” Hanima added. “So don’t take too long to decide.”
As tempting as it was to do it solely for the sake of raising money for the middle school girls STEM program, I didn’t think I had it in me. It was touching that the other WIE board members thought I would be a good candidate, though. So at the very least, I would pretend to think it over for a few days before breaking the news to them. And I would try to get involved in the summer program in another way, like volunteering. In fact, that would be a good initiative for all WIE members.