Was this a low turnout election?
This felt like a low turnout election, and it was making Victoire feel very uncomfortable. It was just before noon, and while there'd been a line of fifteen people when the polls had first opened, it had just been a slow, steady stream of people since then. She supposed that it was just as well that they didn't have to wait in a line, especially since it was quite cold outside, but - still. If this was a low turnout election, all the polling was out the window.
Of course, the black x's next to a solid two-thirds of the names in the book pointed at this being a high turnout election where most people voted early or by mail, just as she and her cousin Fred had, but there was only so far logic could go when there was this much on the line.
"Hey." Fred dropped into the chair next to her, and she had the resist the urge to inform both the poll worker who'd just taken his seat and the voter on the other side of the plexiglass that they really did take the pandemic seriously, they just didn't need to socially distance because they were roommates. "I'm heading to lunch - you took one to three, right?" She nodded. "I'll probably make something - should I make enough for you, too?"
"Yeah, if you don't mind. Thanks." She studied him. "How are you feeling?"
He shrugged. "I mean, you know."
She did know. When she'd finally given up on sleep at 4:45am, she'd found him already at the kitchen table, drinking a very large cup of coffee. "Yeah." The anxiety was boiling up again, and she could see it in his eyes, too. She wrapped an arm around him and leaned her head on his shoulder. After a moment, he took a deep breath, squeezed her hand, and got to his feet. "I'll see you in an hour."
She nodded. When he vanished through the doorway, Victoire looked over at the woman who'd taken his place at the A-I table. "We're in the same household," she said quickly.
The woman gave her a puzzled look and turned her attention toward the couple who'd stopped in front of her table.
Victoire sighed and looked down at her phone.
It was nearing 12:40 and she'd just finished counting all the checked off boxes in the book to reassure herself that this was not actually low turnout when someone stopped in front of her table.
"Hi, how are you?" she asked cheerfully. She was not actually feeling particularly cheerful, but voters didn't need to know that.
"Great. Never been better."
The dry sarcasm made her smile despite herself, and she looked closer at their face mask. It said treat women with respect. "I like your mask," she said.
"Well, I know my gender's voting wrong today, so I wanted a mask that made it clear that I'm in the minority that's voting correctly. I figured I could get away with this one without technically violating the 'no political messages in the polling place' thing." That made her grin, and she could see the smile in his eyes. "I like your pin."
She glanced down at the stressed bi pin on her dark blue sweater. She wanted to make a joke about making a political statement, too, but she was fairly certain poll workers weren't supposed to do that. "Thanks. So do you actually, or are you just trying to lull us into a false sense of security?"
"You're good at projecting through the mask," he said. "And yes, I do actually. Not being a msiogynist is part of my plan for world domination - I'm a radical." She giggled, and the lines at the edges of his eyes got a little more pronounced. "So how are you?"
"I'm... okay."
"Yeah, I think there's a lot of that going around."
Somebody else came into the gym; to her relief, they were to the other table. She could see more people at the door, though, so she forced herself to get back on track. "Yeah. I think so, too. Oh - sorry, name?"
"Dedworth. Gallagher."
"Oh - no, I meant street name."
"Oh, sorry!" he said quickly, looking down at the sign. "Right, it says that, I knew that -"
She felt her smile get wider. "No, it's fine! Everybody does it."
"I know you can't see it, but I'm making a face at myself right now. 1223 Willow street."
She found his name, checked off the box in red, and handed him a ballot. "You're going to take a pen from the box, go to your right, and find an empty polling booth. After you fill out the ballot, drop it in the machine in the back and circle around to that door. The pen is yours to keep."
He took the ballot she slid underneath the plexiglass. "From one stressed bi to another, I really think things are going to be okay."
"I hope so."
She watched him head toward an empty booth. He was a little taller than she was, and he seemed just overdue for a haircut in a way that made her itch to run her fingers through his hair. "Do you want any m&ms?" the poll worker at the other table asked, breaking her focus.
They'd all been given hand sanitizer at the start of the day, but Victoire shook her head anyway. "No - I'm heading to lunch at one, I'll just wait."
The man - Gallagher - passed her table a few minutes later. "Thanks for voting!" she called out.
"Thanks for the pen." He glanced over at the other table; the other poll worker had her hands full with the family of six who had just come in. "Uh - so no pressure and if the answer's yes I won't do it, but would you be creeped out if I happened to be sitting on one of the benches outside in ten minutes?"
She blinked at him. She had had people flirt with her while poll working, but she'd never had this happen. Most of the time she would have indeed been creeped out, but she wasn't now, for some reason. "No!" she said quickly. "I - no, that would be very lucky."
He stuck the pen in his pocket. "Thanks for the pen."
Despite the exchange, she was a little surprised to find him out there when she left ten minutes later. He looked up when she started toward him.
"Hey," he said. "Sorry - I kind of put you on the spot without meaning to. Are you sure you don't mind? If you do I'll just go, seriously."
She held her phone out. "Put you phone number in."
He reached out to take it. He seemed a little taken aback. "Uh - do you usually hand vaguely creepy men who overheard when you were leaving for lunch your phone in the middle of a pandemic?"
"Well, I do know where you live." He let out a laugh and started to type his number in. "And no, but my phone's a petri dish right now. I'll wipe it down as soon as I get in, anyway." She took the phone back and hit the call button. When his started to buzz, she ended the call.
"Thanks," he said. "Somebody named Fred texted saying lunch was ready while I was putting it in," he said.
When she walked into the apartment she shared with her cousin fifteen minutes later, she found that lunch was indeed ready. "Are you in the mood to hear something ridiculous?" she asked as she rubbed the soap between her hands.
"Sure."
"I just had a guy try to pick me up after he voted. I gave him my phone number."
Fred let out a snort of laughter. "Okay, yeah, that is ridiculous. Only you, Vic." She stuck her tongue out at him, and he jerked his head toward the stovetop. "There's probably enough for dinner, too. What's his name?"
By the time she sat down with her food, Fred had found the guy's instagram. He let out a low whistle and passed her his phone. "Oh my fucking god," she said loudly.
"That's the guy, right? We didn't just inadvertently discover just-for-fun voter fraud in a deep blue district?"
"No - no, it's him, he's just - uh -"
"Hot at fuck?" She nodded. "Yeah, he really is. Make sure you don't click anything - I like my stalking to be one-sided - but scroll back a bit, he was Zuko for Halloween. Vic, if you break my phone trying to find a picture of some random Avatar fan who decided to multitask while voting, I might actually kill you."
"Oh my god, did you see the RBG mask?"
Her phone chirped, and Fred grabbed it before she could. "'Hey, cute bi poll worker,'" he read out loud. "'I don't actually know your name because I didn't want to seem like I was staring at your chest trying to read your name tag.' Vic, seriously?"
She felt her face get hot. "Like in a bad way?"
He shook his head and handed her phone over. "No - you're just ridiculous. Oh, to answer your question from earlier - Jules called while I was cooking. She's not really feeling better - she still thinks it's just a cold but doesn't want to risk it, so yeah, it'll just be us tonight."
He sounded more casual than she knew he felt - his girlfriend had been sick for well over a week, and she could tell it was starting to worry him. "Okay. Do you want a hug? I kind of do."
He pushed his chair back. "Yeah. I do, too."
a/n: I'll update every monday. reviews + faves + follows are deeply appreciated!
(also, forewarning that c4, c6, and c8 all get pretty sexually explicit if you're not comfortable with that.)
thanks so much for reading!
- Branwen
