Mika’s eyes had drifted to Tiresa at that moment, but snapped back to me, stunned. I shrug in apology. “I think you should add a humorous opening statement, followed by three key points about what you will accomplish in office instead of only talking about past offices and awards you’ve held, and then end with a promise of how the campus will benefit from your leadership and continue after you’ve graduated.”
Mika’s brow furrows. “So I shouldn’t talk about my qualifications?”
I shake my head. “No, by all means, mention them briefly or list them on a campaign flyer, but you need to give people a reason to vote for you not based on those but on the goals you plan to accomplish and how it will make campus life better.”
He pulled out a pen and began to furiously jot down my ideas. “And tell a joke at the beginning?”
“Not necessarily a joke, but something funny. It will evoke an emotion from people and help them to remember you.”
Mika looked up, face scrunched. “I’m not good with funny.”
“I can think of something for you,” I volunteer.
“Me, too,” says Tiresa.
Mika bites his lower lip in thought. “Will you help me write my speech? I really need help with it because I really want to win. I plan to attend law school and having won an election, even as stupid as Student Body President, makes my application look better.”
“Sure,” I reply, blushing.
Mika’s smile is the sun. “Great. Terrific. I’m Mika, by the way. What is your name again?” He holds out his hand for me to shake.
I take his hand shyly. “Isabella. But you can call me Bella.”
From that moment forward, it was the three of us. The Three Musketeers, partners in crime, inseparable and incorrigible. Mika won the election (his speech—rather, my speech) received a standing ovation, as did his acceptance speech (also written by me). He was the devil’s advocate, arrogant, confident and always right, even when he was on the wrong side of the argument.
Tiresa was the dreamer of the trio. She always came up with madcap ideas. She took no thought to the consequences, but somehow always seemed to land on her feet—elegant, size 8 feet which supported her six foot tall, gorgeous body with supermodel features. Those features now earn her a six-figure salary as a PR executive in the music industry.
Then there was me, the creative one. I was studying for a Fine Arts Degree in design and drawing, when I wasn’t contributing editorials to the campus newspaper and writing Mika’s column for it. However, my main role became caretaker. It was a course of study in itself to look after those two. I wrote for Mika; made sure as Student Body President that he wore the right color shirt and power tie to important campus events; tutored Tiresa; made sure she woke up in time for class; and was always the designated driver. Always.