Part 6 (1/2)

I lost my focus. This guy was cute. He looked vaguely familiar, like I had seen him at a debate tournament last year. I felt tongue-tied for the first time at a debate tournament.

”You're the infamous Beatrice,” he said, ignoring my lack of response. ”I'm Tony. We're debating you next round.”

”Oh, that--that's great,” I choked out.

”I'll let you get back to your stuff. Looking forward to meeting you in the cla.s.sroom,” he said, lowering his voice to sound spooky.

I laughed out loud. And, yes, my laugh is loud. His eyes sparkled like he enjoyed hearing it. ”Good luck to you, Tony,” I said. I batted my eyelashes flirtatiously. I'd never done that before in my life! It just came out naturally.

”It's good either way,” he said with a wink. ”Maybe we can hang out afterwards.”

I felt my breath get caught in my throat. He tapped the door with his hand, lightly biting his bottom lip as he gave me one last look. Then he was gone, leaving me to draw in a deep, slow breath. Now, how was I possibly going to stay focused with him across from me?

Then it hit me. Tony was trying to distract me just like other guys had in the past. I could kick myself with my four inch heels. I had fallen for it. It wasn't too late to get a grip on my emotions, thankfully. No matter how cute he was, he was still my enemy in the debate round.

Determinedly, I focused my energy on my arguments, playing different scenarios in my head until I heard the sound of footsteps out in the hall. Lunch was over. Time to get down to business.

I ventured out in the hall to find Jared. I searched everywhere. Finally, I saw him limping dejectedly to me, wiping at a yellow stain on my brand new navy suit jacket that I hadn't even had the chance to wear.

”What happened?” I asked, my loud voice turning a few heads of the kids in the hall.

”I'm sorry, Beatrice,” he said with a sigh. ”I was eating a corn dog in the cafeteria and some mustard squirted on your jacket. I tried to wipe it off, but the smear just kept getting worse.”

”You owe me a jacket,” I said shortly.

”I figured,” Jared said. He stopped by me, his body looking like it was rag doll being held up with threads.

”What's going on with you?” I asked. ”You feeling sick?”

Jared shrugged. ”I kind of feel like I've been bucked off a bull. My foot hurts where you stabbed me with those ten inch heels and my ribs feel like a bull's horns took a shot at me where you elbowed me.”

I looked at poor Jared standing so pathetically in front of me. All of a sudden, I started laughing. It wasn't really a laugh at him, but more of a laugh at the absurdity of the day. I know we had only seven minutes to get to our debate room, but I couldn't stop. Tears started welling up in my eyes the harder I laughed. Jared looked around, somewhat embarra.s.sed.

It took several minutes before I could get my laughter under control. I fanned my face with my hand frantically. I could feel the heat in my cheeks and knew they were as bright red as my hair.

”Is my makeup smeared?” I asked Jared.

”Nope.”

”I'm not laughing at you, Jared,” I said. ”Look, this has been a crazy day. We've got this round and hopefully one other one if we advance to finals. Do you have it in you one more time--hopefully two more times?”

”Yeah, I guess so,” he said nonchalantly. ”I realized it's a lot less stressful if I just read your words and do what you tell me to.”

”Yes,” I said excitedly. He finally got it.

”Frankly, debate's boring, Beatrice. But a promise is a promise.”

I felt a little guilty at his words, but he was my only hope. All I needed for a debate partner was a warm body that could read. He fit the requirements.

We rushed to the cla.s.sroom where our debate was being held. It was packed full of kids from other schools who wanted to see me in action. Leslie and the Blimp had taken seats directly in front of Jared and me. They did that on purpose to try to make us mess up. I know she was jealous they had been eliminated.

Tony winked at me when we came in. I gave him a wink, too--only it was an exaggerated wink. His eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't sure how to take my response.

The judge was a professor of the college. In a quiet voice, he relayed a few rules and expectations he held for the debate. Standard stuff. No rudeness, no interruptions, speak clearly. He had his notebook ready; I hoped he could take good notes.

Tony started out the debate round. He was great--charming, well-spoken. But as I listened to his case, he had so many holes, it might as well be swiss cheese. I would have said that in my opening, too, but the judge didn't want any rudeness.

Jared sat very still while I took all the notes. That wouldn't look good to a judge. When Tony finished speaking, I leaned over and whispered to him to pick up a pen and pretend he was taking notes.

I stood with my notepad and started exposing the holes with questions. Tony got visibly fl.u.s.tered and finally shook his head. His partner hit him in the leg, but Tony shrugged. He was trapped with no place to hide.

I finished my questions and sat down. Jared was silently going over the p.r.o.nunciation of several words he still struggled with. I pulled out a couple of index cards and tape. Carefully, I replaced a couple of index cards with the new ones and scratched some new notes.

Jared was confused with the new information. He scratched his head with a blank stare when I tried to explain it to him. It didn't help that Leslie and the Blimp were laughing right in our faces.

”Don't look at them,” I ordered Jared. ”Just read this in the exact order that I have it. Don't worry about trying to understand it.”

Jared nodded and rose to his feet. Some of the safety pins had come loose from the jacket, so one shoulder had started sagging. I had to hide a smile at the pathetic sight beside me.

Jared's voice was barely audible as he read the information I had prepared. The judge had a frown on his face the whole time he spoke. Tony and his partner leaned in, desperate to hear clearly. They didn't want to have to ask for Jared's notes, I could tell.

Tony stood up when Jared finished. He looked at his partner, who nodded. ”Can we take a look at your arguments?” he asked.

”No,” Jared said simply.

Tony didn't know how to respond. No one ever refused the request for the other team's notes. ”Well, uh, the rules are clear that you have to share--”

”Well, I don't know about any rules,” Jared said loudly, ”but it seems pretty chicken belly for you to have to look at them. Weren't you listening? I mean, I wasn't reading that fast.”

The room full of kids broke into laughter. The judge looked around the room, unsure of how to proceed. Tony was so embarra.s.sed that he sat down. I hit Jared's arm and indicated he should give the notes to Tony.

”My partner says I should help you out,” Jared said and walked over to Tony to hand him the paper.

Tony's partner s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of his hands. He was angry. He threw me a dirty look. I smiled sweetly. They had just made themselves look weak and he knew it. They had also lost the time they had to cross examine Jared.

Tony's partner stood up to deliver the closing arguments. He deliberately spoke in a very low voice so we couldn't hear. I scooted my chair closer, all the time taking notes. By the time he finished, his voice was just above a whisper. I'd been forced to move my chair where I was sitting right next to them.

The judge had just about given up. I stood up and delivered our closing arguments, speaking rapidly to refute every point I could in the allotted time. When the judge called time, I sank into my chair. The room erupted in applause. I looked around to see why they were clapping and realized it was for me.

Embarra.s.sed, I pushed my chair back to Jared and started gathering up our papers. Jared had a big grin on his face the whole time. As the kids filed out, Tony and his partner came up to congratulate us.

”You pretty much slaughtered us--single handed,” Tony said with a laugh. He grabbed my hand to shake it, holding it for a long moment. I felt a tingling sensation run up my arm.

”You were great,” I murmured, pulling my hand from his.

”Give me your number,” Tony insisted. ”I want to keep in touch.”

”I don't know,” I stammered. ”I really don't--you know--hang with debaters.”

”How about I give you my number if you change your mind?”