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"Voting for a third party would never work!” Spot stood and slammed his hands on his desk. It was civics class, last period, and the teacher had decided, since it was so close to the election, that having a class discussion would be a good idea. The teacher had not accounted for the temperaments of two of his students; Spot Conlon and Tony “Racetrack” Higgins, who were currently in a heated debate.
“And why not?” Race stood up, too. Both boys were short for their age, but they made up for it in passion.
“It would divide the party! Look, if we’re in a group of 100, right-”
“But we’re not!” Race interjected.
“Just say we are, okay?! In a group of 100, if 49 people vote Trump, 46 vote Hillary, and 5 vote third party, guess what?! Trump just won that state! Because of the third-party voters!” Spot’s face was flushed. He considered sitting down and apologizing to the teacher, but decided that he wanted to hear Race’s response.
Race’s face was red, too. “We are living in a representative democracy - our vote matters here! If we can't vote for who we want-”
“I'm not saying that people can't vote for who they want, I'm just saying that in an election as important as this one, voting third party would only-”
“Gentlemen! Both of you, step outside the classroom! You may rejoin us if you can control yourselves and respect each other and the rest of the class,” the teacher interrupted Spot.
“But, sir, it wasn't my fault!” Both boys exclaimed.
“It most certainly was each of your faults. Please step outside.”
Chairs squeaked as Spot and Race stood up and walked to the front of the classroom, neither one looking at the other. When Race reached the door, he opened it, stepped out, and let it slam on Spot. Grumbling, Spot pushed it open and slammed it behind him as well.
“What the hell was that for?!” Race shouted as soon as the door was closed.
“You were the one who slammed the door on me! And shut up a bit, will you? I don't want to get in more trouble than we already are.” Spot answered.
Race rolled his eyes, but his response was significantly quieter. “No, for getting us kicked out of class!”
“That wasn't my fault! I was simply stating my opinion in response to your wrong one!” Spot crossed his arms.
“Fine! Whatever!” Race crossed his, too, and plopped down on the bench next to the door.
“Fine!” Spot sat down next to Race.
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
The boys sat in silence for a while, before Race let out a giggle.
“What the fuck?” Spot looked over at his classmate. (Or hallway-mate, for accuracy.)
“What?”
“Why did you laugh?” Spot questioned.
“I dunno, it’s just, like, we were arguing so hard in class, then you got us kicked out-”
“Did not!”
“-and then we kept, like, yelling at each other, and then it was really quiet and I thought it was funny. So I laughed.” Race finished, and shrugged in response to Spot’s look.
“You’re… You’re….” Spot couldn’t find the word.
Race tried to help. “Amazing? A genius? Perfect?”
“Annoying. I was going to say annoying.”
“Suuuureeeeee……” Race dramatically rolled his eyes.
“I was!” Spot protested, although he couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across his face.
“You should do that more often. Smile, I mean,” Race’s voice was soft.
“Naahhh,” Spot turned down the compliment.
“No, really. It suits you,” Race insisted.
“I like your smile better,” Spot said shyly, not looking at the other boy.
“How about we combine our smiles?” Race said, with a smirk in his voice.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Spot said, finally making eye contact with Race.
“I don’t know what I say half the time, honestly,” Race admitted.
“I can tell,” Spot answered.
“Rude!” Race joked.
“You know you love me!” Spot sing-songed.
“Just kiss me, dork.”
The teacher was understandably surprised when he went to check on the two boys.