Chapter 7 — Elections and Hearts

The special issue of the Truong Newspaper Club released on Monday morning made a bigger splash than expected. The full interview with the three candidates was published, along with Ngoc's clear response to the scholarship rumor, causing the previous wave of doubt to almost completely disappear. Instead, the attention of the entire school's students focused on the warehouse renovation project that Khang first announced.

"Hey, did you read the article?" an 11th grade student asked his friend in the hallway on the second floor. "Mr. Khang's creative space project sounds great, I'm pretty good at illustrating, I'll probably sign up to participate if the project becomes a reality."

Ngoc overheard that conversation while passing by and couldn't help but smile. She immediately texted Khang: "You just became a fan of an architectural project. Congratulations."

A few minutes later, Khang replied: "Thanks to you pushing me into the light. Thank you for believing in me even before I believed in myself."

During recess that day, booth number 3 was filled with students coming to ask more specifically about both projects. A group of 12th grade Fine Arts students, led by a girl named Bui Khanh Vy, came to Khang's desk with a separate set of drawings.

"Mr. Khang, we saw your sketch in the newspaper and we liked it very much!" Vy said excitedly, opening her group's drawing book. "We have a few additional ideas, such as a wall corner for legal graffiti, or an area to display art that rotates monthly."

Khang looked through each drawing, his eyes shining with excitement. "This is exactly what I'm missing! Can you send me the full version? I want to include it in the official plan presented to the school board."

"Yes!" Vy and her group of friends shouted with joy, unable to hide their excitement when their idea was taken so seriously by an election candidate.

Not far from booth number 3, Gia Huy stood quietly observing the scene from afar, holding in his hand the school newspaper he had read over and over again since morning. He looked at the crowd of students surrounding Khang and Ngoc, clearly heard the bustling laughter, and the familiar feeling of being lost welled up in his heart.

"Hey Huy, what are you doing standing here?" Duc Anh appeared behind him, holding a water bottle, looking at his friend's eyes. "Are you staring over there again?"

"Nothing," Huy replied, quickly folding the newspaper, his voice stiff. "I was just thinking about what else our booth needs."

"I think," Duc Anh hesitated, "should we try doing something completely different? Like a fun mini-game or something to attract attention, instead of just standing around handing out flyers."

"The idea is fine," Huy nodded indifferently, his eyes still glued to booth number 3, where Ngoc's laughter rang out clearly among the crowd. "Let me think more."

Duc Anh looked at his friend for a moment, realizing something was wrong in Huy's eyes but didn't know what to say to appease him, so he quietly turned away, leaving Huy alone with his increasingly gloomy thoughts.

On the other side of the booth, Ngoc was equally busy with a group of parents who happened to visit the school during the mid-term parent meeting, curious about the Companion Scholarship Fund after hearing their child's story.

"Honey, if this fund is established, how can parents contribute?" a mother asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"Yes, I plan to have many flexible forms of contribution," Ngoc explained carefully, "from regular cash contributions, to in-kind contributions such as books, school supplies, or even donating free tutoring time for disadvantaged students. I want this fund to not only rely on money, but also the cooperation of the entire school community."

The mother nodded approvingly. "Good idea. If you win the election, I will definitely contribute."

Another parent standing nearby, overhearing the conversation, also contributed. "I also know a few places that make cheap used books. If needed, I can introduce them to your fund, to save on textbook costs for those in need."

"Yes, thank you very much," Ngoc bowed her head in gratitude. She did not expect that today's campaign would receive so much practical support from parents, who do not have the right to vote in this election but are still willing to join hands for a meaningful goal.

Recording each request for help in a small notebook that she always carries with her, Ngoc feels filled with motivation. This is no longer simply an election to win a title, but is gradually becoming a real movement, connecting both students and parents towards a common good goal.

That afternoon, after class, Ngoc and Khang stayed together in the library, drafting a detailed plan combining both projects - the Companion Scholarship Fund and the creative space renovated from an old warehouse - to prepare to present to Ms. Ha before presenting it to the school board.

"If these two projects are approved at the same time," Khang said, tapping his pen on the table, "our school will change a lot next school year. Not only does it support difficult students financially, but also mentally - even those who are not good at mainstream subjects have their own place."

"That's right," Ngoc nodded, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. "I think, no matter who wins the election, we should commit to implementing both of these projects together. That is the most important thing, not who is named President. We can write a joint commitment, sign both, so that no matter what the election results are, both projects will still be implemented as planned."

"Good idea," Khang nodded in agreement, immediately pulled out a blank sheet of paper, and began sketching the first lines of that commitment on the spot.

Khang looked at her, his eyes containing an admiration that was hard to hide. "You know, I think this is the first time in my life that I really look forward to something beyond my parents' expectations. Thank you, Ngoc."

Ngoc smiled, clearly feeling the distance between them, between the two election opponents, gradually narrowing into something much warmer and closer. But just as she was about to respond, Khang's phone vibrated with a text message.

Khang opened his phone, his face suddenly darkened. "It's my dad," he said, his voice low. "He wanted to meet me tonight, saying he had something important to discuss about 'election strategy'."

"What's going on?" Ngoc asked, noticing the obvious change in Khang's attitude.

"I don't know," Khang shook his head and packed up his books. "But every time he uses the word 'strategy,' it's usually not a good thing."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Ngoc asked, even though she knew it was probably not It was a good idea, but she didn't want Khang to have to face something that worried him so much alone.

Khang smiled wryly and shook his head. "Thank you, but I need to handle this myself. My father is not comfortable with outsiders witnessing these types of conversations in the family."

"Well then," Ngoc said, gently grabbing his hand in a brief gesture of encouragement, "text me when you're done. Whatever the outcome, I want to know you're okay."

Khang looked at that warm hand, nodded, a more sincere smile appeared on his lips. "Sure. Thank you, Ngoc — for everything, not just today."

Ngoc watched Khang leave the library, a vague worry rose in her heart. She sat alone for a while longer, folding up the plans she had just drafted with Khang. Her eyes unconsciously stopped at the page with the words "Companion Scholarship Fund x Creative Space — Parallel Project" that they had just agreed to name together.

She smiled to herself, thinking about the distance she had traveled from the first day she stood on the launching ceremony stage, trembling but determined, until today, when she found in her election opponent a truly trustworthy companion. But mixed with that joy was an insecurity that she couldn't clearly name — about Gia Huy, about the anonymous comments, and now, about the mysterious meeting between Khang and his father.

She packed up her books and walked out of the library when it was late afternoon, the sunset dyed the deserted schoolyard orange. On the way home, Ngoc couldn't stop thinking about what tonight's meeting between Khang and his father would lead to, but her hunch told her that the past peaceful days were probably about to come to an end, giving way to bigger challenges that were waiting for both of them ahead, challenges that no detailed plan could prepare for.