OK. So I kind of thought Suze was kidding about encouraging me to run for class president and that she wouldn't really want to be my campaign manager. But she was definitely serious. In fact, I arrive at school the next day to find her campaigning hard on the school steps.

She's handing out what looks like blueberry mini-muffins (yum) and hot pink leaflets. Students are stopping to grab the muffins but they don't seem so keen on the leaflets. There's no way that they can miss the huge posters on the nearby wall, though, emblazoned with slogans like "All Hail President Becky!" and "Vote # 1 for Rebecca Bloomwood!"

She spots me and starts waving frantically. "Becky, over here!"

"Suze, I can't believe you've done all this…" I say, shaking my head in amazement. "How did you even have time to set this up?"

"Oh, I got my dad to drop me off early today," she replies with a shrug. "Plus Tarquin helped me bake the muffins last night."

"Personally I think you'd make a wonderful class president," Tarquin declares earnestly, his eyes fixed on me in a way that makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. "You'll bring a fresh new dynamic to our grade."

"Uh, thank you," I say uncertainly as he hands me a mini-muffin. He looks as though he'd like to continue our conversation, but Suze drags him away to continue campaigning. I'm secretly relieved. I know he's Suze's third cousin and all, but I find him a little unsettling.

"So you're running for class president."

It's Luke Brandon. Of course.

"Yes?" It comes out as more of a question than a statement. Part of me still can't believe I'm running.

"That's pretty bold, considering you're a new student."

I stiffen. Suddenly his smile looks more like a smirk. Is he making fun of me?

"I've been here long enough to know what could be changed," I say coolly, hoping I'm injecting just the right note of confidence into my voice.

"And do you even know enough people?"

"She will," Suze says, standing next to me and crossing her arms. "By the time our campaign is finished, everyone will know who Becky Bloomwood is."

Luke raises his eyebrows. "I wish you the very best of luck," he says smoothly before walking into the school.

How can such an innocuous sounding statement seem so smug coming out of Luke Brandon's mouth?

I allow myself a few secret minutes of staring after him wistfully before turning my attention back to the campaign. If I wasn't that interested in being class president before, I definitely am now. If only to prove Luke Brandon wrong.

"Mitosis is part of the cell cycle process in which…"

I'm sitting in biology, my last class of the day, and I'm doing my best to stifle my yawns.

It's been a long day of campaigning. Suze has introduced me to so many people and I've already forgotten most of their names. I didn't even realise there was this many people in Oxshott Prep, let alone in our grade.

Maybe Luke was right, comments a nagging little voice in my head. You're a new student, you don't know enough people… How could you ever possibly think that you could win this election?

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Suze whispering to the redhead next to her. The redhead glances over at me and nods slowly.

Then again… Suze is proving to be an excellent campaign manager.

"Rebecca."

I look up in surprise. Mr Cooper, our biology teacher, is looming over my desk.

"Yes, Mr Cooper?" I say sweetly, hoping that I haven't missed anything too crucial.

"What happens to the nuclear membrane to mark the beginning of prometaphase?"

I breathe a silent sigh of relief. I know the answer to this one.

"It dissolves."

"And then what happens during prometaphase?"

I know we covered this at my old school but it's just not coming back to me right now.

"Uh…"

"Greetings, class. Nominations for class officers this year has now closed," booms Mr Smeath's voice over the loudspeaker.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm off the hook… for now, anyway.

"Looks like we only have two candidates running for class president this year," Mr Smeath announces.

Only two? You mean I actually have a fifty percent chance of winning this thing?

"Our two candidates are Rebecca Bloomwood and Alicia Billington."

I freeze. My competition is Alicia?

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her straighten up and smile brightly. She turns her gaze towards me and I look straight into her eyes.

There's no way I'll give her satisfaction of seeing just how freaked out I am.

"Honey, you're running for class president? That's wonderful," Dad says heartily at the dinner table that evening, obviously trying to make up for his lack of faith in me. "You'd make an excellent president."

And although I know he's probably humouring me and saying what any parent would say, part me of can't help but say hopefully, "Really?"

"Of course you will," Mum agrees encouragingly, squeezing my shoulder. "Why, when you were just eight years old, I remember you writing a letter to suggest that your father be prime minister. A week later, you wrote again, asking why they hadn't replied. You have intelligence, persistence and drive, Becky. You'll go far."

I hang onto those words as I work on my campaign after dinner.

Coral jacket (Zara), black dress (H&M), and coral ballet flats (Primark). I smile as I look at the outfit I've picked out for tomorrow. The ensemble is classy and elegant and I've no doubt that it will impress. If only I were running for class style consultant instead of president.

I have serious doubts about my ability to win the election now that I've discovered Alicia is my opponent. She's wealthy, glamorous, popular and well-connected – what chance do I have of winning? Yet the stubborn streak in me refuses to give up. After all, if I do give up, I'm practically handing her the presidency on a silver platter.

"I won't give up," I vow silently. "I will get through this."

Author's Note: What do you think? Has Becky got a chance of winning the election? Or will Alicia prove too much of a competitor?