Drew’s dark hair and cheeks flush bright red whenever she's been running, which she pretty much never does. Unless she’s being chased, or she’s late like today. Her dark hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, with little braids feeding into it on each side. Her eye makeup was just as severe as usual, with thick eyeliner around each eye, turning her blue eyes almost cerulean.
Normally I'd be happy to see her. Normally I'd grin and make some joke about her cutting things close, or ask her what came up this time. Her mom had never texted back, which wasn’t so weird, but I’d been worried Drew was sick or hurt.
Once I realized she was fine, I wanted to yell at her and swear. The more I thought about it, the more upset I got. I already had six points with her and we’d been debating together for two years. I really should debate with her for the first time with my new plan, but now Mason and his dad had gone to great lengths to fix her mess last minute, and I didn't know what to do. And since Drew’s obviously not sick and had time to do her hair, she’d been up for more than an hour. She should have texted me so I didn’t worry. Careless and obnoxious.
The bus doors opened and she came flying up the stairs, her eyes searching for mine. When she saw me, she did a double take. She scowled at Mason and came to a stop in the aisle right in front of me.
"Who's that?" she asked.
I was a teensy bit relieved she didn’t seem interested in him at all.
"Hey Drew." I stood up. "Drew Dunmore, this is Mason Montcellier." I intentionally mispronounced Mason's name, saying it the way Coach Harris had.
Mason smiled.
"What's so funny?" Drew asked.
"No," I said, "this is not where you get all defensive and rude. This is where you apologize to me, and maybe you say 'Nice to meet you, Mason.’"
"Nice to meet you.” Drew turned to me. “Now, what was so funny?" She dropped her voice. "And who is this guy? I don't care about his name at all, no offense."
"None taken," Mason said from behind me. "And I don't really know what I'm doing here, if you really are the elusive Drew. Up until a few moments ago, I was filling in for you."
"What happened this morning?" I asked her. "Why were you late? It better not be what I think."
Drew looked down at the rubber-coated floor of the bus, and bit her lip. "I just slept in, okay, that’s all.”
I lift one eyebrow. “So you weren’t online, gaming until sun-up? Chatting with your little internet friends?”
Drew sighs. “My mom was at work, and I was up late last night… finishing up a paper."
"Finishing your English paper?” I rolled my eyes. “The one you finished and handed in yesterday? This matters to me, Drew, and I figured you knew that.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “How do you think I felt sitting and waiting on you today? You’re supposed to be my best friend and you didn’t even text to say you were late."
"I made it here in time, didn't I?"
"Not in time, no."
I pointed to the bench next to me and Drew sat down. Her snottiness and Mason's politeness cinched it for me. "Mason, as I’m sure you’ve already surmised, this is the very late, and very rude Drew. She chronically shows up last minute, but she’s usually not so rude when she does.” I stare pointedly at Drew’s flushed face, then I turn toward Mason again. “You’re still filling in for her. She can't stay up half the night before her best friend’s big tournament playing video games, forget to plug in her phone so that she doesn’t see my texts, and then waltz in and think everything's fine because she managed to sprint to the bus as it was driving away."
Mason tried to stand, but he was too big to manage it very well on the inside of the bench. "I'm not trying to cause any problems. I can just head back to class. It's no big deal."
The bus lurched forward and I fell back against Mason, landing forcefully on his lap. His arms wrapped around me. “Whoa there, you okay?”
My heart sprinted faster than Drew was running for the bus moments before. I hoped my face didn’t flush like hers had, too.
Drew cleared her throat. “If you’ve survived your terrifying near death ordeal…”
I snorted. “Obviously I’m fine.” I slid off Mason’s lap and back into the seat. “But we’re on our way to the tournament now, and Ms. Harris already changed the roster to me and Mason.” I leaned toward Drew and put my hand on the seat in front of her. "You were late, again. Today of all days, when I’m going to run my new case, the one I’ve been spending every waking moment on. I had no idea if you were even coming. Sometimes late isn’t a big deal. Sometimes it’s too late." I turned around and looked straight ahead at the back of the seat in front of me. I had no idea then how right I was.
"That was kind of harsh," Mason said.
"She does this all the time," I said. "She used to be the most amazing best friend anyone could have. Heck, she joined debate for me. But a few months back she got addicted to this dumb internet game, and now she stays up all night playing it. Her mom doesn’t care, and the only person who even seems to be annoyed about it is me. It’s our senior year, and our grades matter, and this matters.” I gesture at my debate briefcase. “But she's always running late, and forgetting things. It's part of what makes her a crappy partner, actually. I'm sick of it."
"Out with the old?" Mason raised his eyebrows.
"I don't know," I said. "For all I know you might really suck."
"I doubt it," Mason said. "I'm pretty smart. I can’t even think of a time I forgot to plug in my phone."
“Mental note: Mason’s memory is unreliable.”
He laughed. “I have an excellent memory. Let me rephrase. I’ve never forgotten to plug in my phone. I’m practically perfect in every way.”
“And about as humble as Mary Poppins was, too.”
He shook his head. "No, I don't think I've ever been called humble."
By the time we reached Katy, we had run through some possible contingencies on my new case, and I felt like Mason understood it at least as well as Drew did. It helped that I planned to use essentially the same thing for both affirmative and negative. Drew was speaking to me again when we all exited the bus, but she ignored Mason entirely as though he wasn’t even present. We walked to the cafeteria in a bunch, finding a clear spot on one of the long, graffiti covered tables. I sat next to Mason, and Drew took a seat on the opposite side of the table. She pointedly never looked at him, as though she forgave me because she was complicit in my decision, but she’d never forgive Mason for being new and helpful. It was better than her being rude to him, I supposed. Or flirting with him. The thought sent a dagger to my heart.
"Should I be worried?" Mason whispered, bobbing his head toward Drew.
"I think you could take her," I said.
"I would never, ever hit a girl." Mason arched one eyebrow. "My dad would kill me, so it wouldn’t matter whether I won or not. But that’s not what I was asking. I meant, do you think if she ignores me long enough, I might really disappear?"
I shouldn't have laughed, because I love Drew and I knew she was upset, but she was acting like a baby. If she couldn’t give Knight Fort a break on the night before our big tournament, then she could suffer the consequences. This time I raised my voice so she could hear me clearly. “You’re going to be fine. Her mock displeasure won’t make you disappear. She obviously has some issues with managing her disappointment in a constructive manner."
"Obviously."
Drew rolled her eyes so hard I worried they’d get stuck up inside her eye socket.
Coach Harris handed us the list with team match ups. I was surprised to see Katy had already updated our team on the paperwork. We were listed as Shelton-Montcellier. It always made me happy to see my dad's name on paper. My parents were both only children, so they decided to keep their names when they got married. I was the first born, so I took my dad’s name, Shelton. Hope got my mom's last name, Vincent.
It's kind of funny, because apparently I look and act just like my mom, and everyone says Hope is just like my dad, so I guess they named us wrong. Hope's stunningly beautiful, so I guess I got the short end of the stick there. At least I got something of my dad’s, even it was only his name. Mom’s brilliant and everyone says I got her brains, so it's not all bad.
I tried not to feel guilty about Drew when we walked past her on the way to our first round. It wasn't like she had nothing going on. She had Extemporaneous to do, even though she wasn't debating. Her eyes followed me out the room and I tried to hang on to my righteous indignation over her lack of care for me and what mattered in my life. Anger felt better than guilt.
When we reached the room, my stomach fell. I should’ve recognized the names, but in my defense, there are a lot of Millers out there and he’s changed partners again. Todd Miller, my partner from UT's summer camp, looked up at me when we walked in. He looked about the same as he always had. His hair was still parted on the side, with about a bucket of gel holding it in place. His enormous white teeth would have been more at home on a sportscaster, but he flashed me an enormous smile with them, completely un-self-conscious about their size. I wish heartily that I hadn't ever kissed him, but I couldn't change that now.
"Hey, Todd," I said. "This is my new partner, Mason. Mason, meet Todd Miller. We were partners at debate camp in Austin this summer."
Todd crossed the room and held out his pale white hand. Mason started to hold his out as though Todd meant to shake. I shifted in between them and placed a flash drive in Todd’s hand before he noticed. He handed me his with a sideways glance at Mason and I knew he realized my partner was completely green. I tried not to care.
I uploaded their files into my computer so I could follow his arguments without trying to make sense of his unintelligible slurring. Todd took a step over to Mason and held out his hand again with a half smile, this time intending to shake. I shuddered to remember how his hand felt in mine, like a dead fish lying in my palm, cold and clammy and deathly still.
Mason turned back to me and tilted his head to the side questioningly, as if to say, ‘what the heck?’
"We won the summer tournament together."
"We expected great things from you after this summer," Todd said. "But so far I'd say Angela and I have a slightly better record."
I frowned. He and Angela hadn’t debated together before. Which was his insult, I guess.
Todd and Frank had won almost every tournament they attended in the past four months, using the solar plan Todd and I wrote together. I wonder what happened with them? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to make him any worse than he was naturally inclined to be, since it would be Mason’s first tournament.
“You may be wondering why I’m not with Frank.”
I shake my head. “I don’t care actually.”
Todd went on, undeterred by my feigned lack of interest. “We had an undefeated record, after all.”
“I think I heard that.” I frown.
“We figured we’d help some other people qualify for state since we were already qualified together.”
My stomach twisted in knots and I wanted to smack Todd in his big horse teeth. I should be happy for him. We should be friends. But it was hard to be nice to someone who stole your case after you wrote it and lied to everyone he encountered about it. I wanted to beat him so badly, but with a brand new partner, odds weren’t good.
"The thing about records," Mason said with a grin, " is that they're always getting broken."
Todd’s mouth dropped open and I barked a laugh. At least Mason didn’t seem intimidated. Before Todd could say anything back, the judge walked in, and we all took our seats at our respective tables.
Our judge was tall and almost painfully thin. He wore an expensive suit. He glanced briefly at both teams before he spoke. "My name is Anders Langston. I'm a senior associate at a law firm in town, Fulbright and Jaworski, and I debated in high school at Clear Lake before I went on to debate in college. To give you a little input," he pulled out a large yellow legal pad, "I believe in flowing. I know it's old school now, but there's no better way to follow an argument than here on paper, with little lines connecting the arguments, and if I can’t understand you, then you don’t get anywhere with me. I won’t let you send me all your data files, because I want to listen to how you present the arguments, not spend my time trying to read through your research. I care less about your preparation before the round, and more about how well you can formulate an argument. As far as my paradigm goes, I'd say I'm a games player. I look at this whole thing as an exercise. I expect you to really think, to wow me, and to bring things together cleanly and efficiently. I'm a lawyer in that way, and I want you to lead me like you would a jury."
I nodded. I had flowed for an entire year on paper before figuring out the software that did the same thing. I didn't bother pointing out that you can do it all faster on the laptop, even without flashing the quotes. Old school was okay with me.
"Do you mind spreading?" Todd asked.
"I don't care whether you speak quickly because I understand the desire to get more information out there, and to have a rigorous debate, but I will yell ‘clear’ if I can't understand what you're saying. I don’t give you credit for telling me something if I can’t comprehend what you’re saying. Sometimes you kids lose sight of the goal. You're supposed to be preparing for the real world. It's good to think fast, but just talking fast for the sake of saying more is pointless."
We all nodded, and I grabbed my iPad and stood up to read our case. Todd was surprised to see me standing up as a one. I'd been a two for years now, and I was a two at camp over the summer with him. I was pretty good at wrapping things up, but I can also talk really fast, more than three hundred words a minute at high clarity. Not that I need to with my case. In fact, although I still had to read quickly, my case was intentionally short enough that the people listening could process what I was saying. I suppressed a smile when Todd leaned over to whisper in Angela's ear. Todd might already have qualified, but he didn’t write the case he won with and he hasn’t had an original thought in years.
The judge seemed pretty open to my ideas, nodding along whenever I looked up at him. In my experience, there aren't many new ideas in the policy debate realm. When you find a relatively unique one, people either love it or they hate it. I did bring a copy of our old solar panel plan, for when I met a particularly rigid judge, but I’m glad I didn't pull it out for Mr. Langston.
When I finished, Angela asked me my cross-examination questions while Todd prepared for his first constructive round, which would form the crux of their negative attack. Most of Angela's questions dealt with topicality at first, but once she realized we were squarely arguing about how we as debaters could literally impact the future policy with our plan, she dropped that line. Her last question was the only really good one, but I had a response.
"You're saying that your entire plan centers on this one debate round?" Angela asks.
I nod.
"So, and correct me if I'm wrong, you don't have a proposal for the government to enact. Your entire plan is to come to these tournaments, and explain to the humans present that looking at the world as a good that we can consume is what caused this mess? And somehow, that will solve the energy crisis?"
I smiled. "You hit the nail right on the head. I see where you're going. The glamour of passing sweeping legislation about solar panels, for instance, is pretty sexy. But when you get right down to it, we're high school students. We might one day become important, like our judge here already is, or maybe we will become world leaders even, but for today, we have absolutely no say in what happens in the world government. What we do control is how we as students, and others here involved in this activity including our judge, view the world. So unlike all the other plans out there, our plan actually impacts real world policy, not some pie in the sky dream of the federal government passing a coherent plan without a million special interest riders."
Angela laughed. "So you expose, what? A few dozen people at most to this notion-"
"I'm sorry to interrupt," I said, "but that's just wrong. I flashed you the plan a few moments before this began, which means every student at Grapevine will have this case in a matter of hours. When you take it back, you'll likely email it to everyone you’re friends with in the debate world. They'll upload it to the open evidence project to make sure everyone is ready for this in the future, and voila, massive exposure. Hundreds, if not thousands of people."
"So after just one round, your entire plan is destroyed? You've done all you can do?" Angela smirked.
Mr. Langston called, "Time, but you may answer the question."
"Of course not," I said. "The only thing that will make people study it, consider it, and really change their minds is when we win. Round after round, debate after debate. In that regard, my plan gains increasing significance with every single round, and every single win."
I smiled and sat back down. Mason whispered in my ear, "Wow girl, you were really great up there."
"You starting to get the picture?" I asked him.
He nodded.
While Todd outlined his defense, focusing pretty heavily on the traditional stock issues, I watched Mason taking notes. He used a yellow pad since he hadn't brought a laptop, but he kept up pretty well. I handled the cross-examination questions, but I noticed while I did that Mason was preparing for his speech. When I wrapped up my questions, we took three minutes of our eight minutes of preparation time to review what he intended to say. His responses were already pretty well formed.
To say Mason did better than Drew ever had was the understatement of the year. He fumbled around a little bit near the beginning, but once he found his stride, there was no stopping him. He shored up our arguments on topicality, and used an analogy I'd never thought to make, comparing our case to lighting candles across America, while the other cases were like politicians, all talk and no action. I can't remember exactly how he said it, but it made the judge laugh and that's never a bad thing.
Todd managed to confuse Mason on cross, and we took a step or two back, but it was nothing I couldn't repair during my rebuttal. He did have one great comeback, though.
Todd asked him, "If part of your whole point is really that we should value animals as much as or even more than people, does that mean we shouldn't what, shoot a bear if it’s attacking us? Wouldn't you?"
Mason got a strange look on his face and said, "For there is no folly of the beast of the earth that is not infinitely outdone by the madness of men."
"What does that even mean?" Todd asked.
"I'm just saying that for every bear that has killed a human, humans have killed a hundred, or maybe a thousand bears. Before we get up in arms about how we can't defend ourselves under this view, think about how much harm humans have done, believing they're the end all, be all in the world."
When he sat down, I asked, "Where did that quote come from?"
Mason shrugged. "It seemed to fit."
"A fan of Melville, huh?"
Mason's head whipped around. "Are you?"
I just smiled. He might have been the hottest guy I knew, and he was shaping up to be the smartest, too. A dangerous combination.
During his rebuttal at the podium, Mason did even better. He slowed down from the pace of everyone else, and really spoke to the judge. He didn't look at his paper more than once. I may never forget his closing line.
"While I may never completely abandon my anthropocentric view of the world, after all, I'm a mighty fine man and I appreciate that, studying the idea that the world revolves around other creatures in their spheres, and recognizing that we share this big rock we live on has helped me want to do better myself. It even made me look into the state subsidies for solar, and I plan to talk to my parents about choosing an electric plan that offers a higher percentage of renewable energy for the same price. It's not much, but it's a start. The best way to change our anthropocentric view is by shifting one small thing at a time. I hope you’ll join with me and help us turn these candles into an inferno, one that might affect real change here on the planet we live on." He threw a fist in the air and shouted, "Vote affirmative and save the whales!"
I couldn't help it. He was so exuberant and he tried so hard. I laughed. Mr. Langston did, too.
I wasn't surprised half an hour later when I got our copy of the judge's ballot reflecting that we won. He awarded Mason and I both perfect speaker points, an even thirty apiece. Mason and I were both pretty pumped, and Ms. Harris wasn't too drunk yet, so she knew why we were cheering and shouted and jumped around with us. She sat down and went over the notes with us. She even shared a helpful tip I used in the next round. I could only imagine what a great coach she could’ve been if she’d have been able to kick the drinking habit.
The next team was a pair of novices who shouldn't have even been in the varsity circuit. They started to cry after we finished our counterplan. Mason argued the anti-anthropocentrism case better every time, and I started throwing in a few topicality attacks and a kritik or two that didn't conflict with our counterplan. By the time our last round ended, Drew’s mom had come to pick her up and she was already gone. Mason and I advanced to the second day undefeated.
Mason showed up on Saturday morning in an amazing tan colored suit. He brought a laptop with him this time, with the proper software downloaded and prepared. I was surprised when we took first place late Saturday night after a very grueling final round against a team that went to semi-finals in state last year.
Mason was as giddy as a schoolboy when we found out we had won. He had taken off his suit jacket and loosened his tie while we waited. He fiddled with his tie nervously. When the ballot came, awarding us both perfect speaker points again, he tossed me up in the air like I weighed nothing, and then caught me and swung me around. He set me down and I hugged him. I was looking around his shoulder when I saw Drew in the corner of the room. She looked at me with a look I'd never seen from her before, and I thought I’d seen every face Drew had ever made five thousand times. I pulled away from Mason, but before I even took a step toward her, she turned and left.
“Mason, I’ll meet you at the awards in a minute. Drew just left, and I want to make sure she’s okay.”
I took off after her, but by the time I got out of the auditorium, she was already gone. I checked each of the rooms closest to us without luck. When I glanced at my watch, I realized I’d looked for her for almost twenty minutes without success. I was about to give up and head back for the awards when I heard voices. One of the doors to the back parking lot had been propped open and cold air rushed inside.
Drew was sitting next to an idiotic rich kid from our school, one I didn't know very well, but I knew he wasn't on the debate team. He was wearing dark jeans and a Metallica t-shirt, but otherwise I had no idea what Drew might like about him. He had his dark hair all gelled up, and when he glanced up at me, I saw that he had the rich guy smirk down perfectly. They were leaned together, and as I walked up, I remembered where I’d seen him. His friends called this guy Juan, and when I asked Hope why, since he clearly wasn’t Hispanic in any way, she told me it was because he always had a joint. Juan, for Marijuana.
"Seriously?" I asked. “You stay up all night and show up late. Then you sulk all weekend, and when Mason and I win first place, you bring Juan to the debate tournament? What is wrong with you?”
Drew sat up when she heard me and placed both hands palm down against the tile. “What’s wrong with me? I’m supposed to be your best friend. I run a little late, and you replace me?”
I spluttered. “I didn’t replace you, I found a last minute sub. But now that you mention it, maybe I should.”
Drew scrambled to her feet. Her pinstriped pantsuit was rumpled, but her white shirt and suspenders looked clean, at least. "I changed my entire schedule to be your partner because you had no one else."
I lowered my voice. “I know you did. I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you. I came out here to see where you went and make sure you were okay. I guess I was just surprised you were out here with Juan.” I tossed my head toward him.
“His name’s Jack,” Drew said. “And he’s a friend.”
She had been sitting awfully close to him for a friend. “Whatever you say.”
“I appreciate you checking on me,” Drew said, slumping back down to the ground next to Jack, “but you better get back to your boyfriend. We wouldn’t want to make him anxious waiting for you. He might replace you with some random girl he’s never talked to before.”
I blushed but it was dark, so I doubted anyone could tell. "He's not my boyfriend. And we hadn’t just met. He was a new student who had observed several rounds in the past. I tried calling you and texting you, I don’t know how many times, before I even talked to him."
Drew exhaled and slumped against Jack’s shoulder. ”I don’t even care, okay? Whatever.”
She was making me out to be the villain, and it wasn’t fair. She’d actually missed two different tournaments without telling me. I had to just forfeit the first round. And she’d been late too many times to count. “You’re always so irresponsible,” I said, “and you just expect me to be grateful because you did me this favor. You joined the team. Well, I’m not going to keep doing that. Maybe the reason you suck so badly is because you never even try. If you want to be my partner, you’ll have to try harder and actually show up.”
Drew’s mouth twisted and she lifted one carefully plucked and dramatically shadowed eye sharply. “You’re not the only person dealing with stuff, Lacy. You just don’t notice anyone but yourself.”
Her words stung like a slap in the face and I blinked back tears. I wish I could say I thought about what she said and paid more attention to her life, dug into her problems. I wish I could say I wasn’t selfish and I took her words as a cry for help.
But that would be a lie.
I think I was embarrassed and angry and maybe a little guilty for good measure. I don’t know what I would have said if my phone hadn’t binged right then. But I looked down at the screen in relief and saw a text from my mom.
I’M HERE. YOU COMING? I WANT TO MEET YOUR NEW PARTNER.
I glanced up at Drew, cozied up to the biggest idiot at our school, and a rumored druggie too.
“I want to hear about your life too, but I don’t have time right this very second because I spent the last twenty minutes checking every room in this school to find you.” I huffed. “My mom’s here because she’s hoping to see me get a big old trophy. Something I figured my best friend might want to cheer about. I guess I was wrong."
“We should both be getting that trophy.” Drew folded her arms.
“You only signed up for debate because I couldn’t find someone better. You hated every round! Just come with me to the awards ceremony, please?” It took every bit of my self-control not to glare at stupid Jack.
She shook her head and her new friend smirked at me.
I threw my hands up in the air. “Fine, you know what, stay here.”
In spite of my words, I stared at her for a moment to see if she’d get up and come with me. She didn’t. My mom texted again. IT’S STARTING IN FIVE. WHERE ARE YOU?
I turned and walked away, looking back over my shoulder a few times, but never turning around, never apologizing. Drew never even looked up to meet my eye.
By the time I reached the cafeteria, Mason was surrounded. A girl we beat in the semi-finals sat on his right, chatting like they were old friends. On his left, Kelly Willis from our team kept giggling and touching his arm. He caught my eye and gave me a look that pleaded with me.
And if that wasn’t enough, he mouthed the words, "Save me."
Of course I promptly walked right past him and sat by my mom, grinning ear to ear.
“Where’s Hope?” I asked.
“She’s spending the night at Gwen’s house. She said she’s very proud of you, but she can’t withdraw your teammates.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Withdraw?”
My mom laughed. “I think she meant withstand. But it was so classically Hope I decided to quote her exactly.”
The corner of my mouth turned up into a half grin. When Hope came to my award ceremonies she was treated sort of like a celebrity, but that much adoration could get a little scary as Mason was learning firsthand. I didn’t mention that I was a little relieved. I wasn’t ready to have him meet her yet anyway.
"You won sweetheart, right?" my mom asked. "That gives you how many points now?"
I shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Twelve."
"Doesn't that mean you're qualified?" she asked. "You're going to TFA state again this year?"
I shook my head. "I need a partnership with twelve. So far, I have fourteen, but six are with Drew and eight are with Mason."
My mom pursed her lips. "I hope you can get another four with Mason then. Or are you going to debate with Drew again?"
I thought about Drew and how hard it was to debate with her, how impossible it was to even talk to her right now. Things were so easy with Mason and so natural. And he had so much raw talent. "I think I'll stick with Mason, but..."
My mom's eyes told me she understood. "Drew must be pretty disappointed. She’s never missed an awards ceremony. Where is she now?"
I sighed. If I told my mom Drew had ditched the debate awards to hang out with a spoiled rich drug dealer from school, Mom would call Drew’s dad so fast that watching her pull out her phone would give me whiplash. I might be mad at Drew for ditching me and being so rude, but I couldn’t bail on her, chew her out, and rat her out in the same day. “She left right after we found out we won."
“She’s not taking the bus back?” Mom narrows her eyes at me, clearly combining her engineering analysis capabilities with her motherly intuition to sniff out my weak cover lie.
I wanted to give more details, but I’d learned the hard way that the more I talk, the more she uncovers. I shook my head.
My mom pointed. "Is that Mason right there?"
Mason saw her and waved, like a drowning man lunging for a floatie. When she waved back, he snatched the opportunity to stand up and make his excuses. He walked over to where we were sitting and pulled up a chair on my left side. Before he sat down, he held out his hand. "I'm Mason Montcellier. Nice to meet you."
"I'm Angelica's mom."
He put his hand down in mock confusion. "Wait, who's Angelica?" He turned to me. "I thought your name was Lacy."
My mom tuts. "No, not really. Lacy’s only a nickname. Her father wanted us to name her Lacy, and he insisted on calling her that. The nickname kind of stuck. She's always gone by that, but I insist on calling her by her given name. It's so much more elegant, don't you think?"
Mason nodded. "I do. Angelica sounds much more sophisticated."
My mom gave me a pointed look. "See? Someone gets it." She turned back to Mason and practically purred. My mom liked to be right. "Nice to meet you, Mason. I hear you're quite the debater. It's great for my daughter to finally have a partner equal to her in skill."
Mason leaned forward, his elbows on his knees so he could see my mom around me. "I wouldn't say I’m equal to her skill, but she dragged me along with grace."
The Katy Coach stood up on stage and started to announce the awards. There aren't ever very many kids who have hung around for the final awards ceremony at the end of a long two-day tournament. You're usually cheered on by the other students who are receiving awards. And maybe a handful of kids who came by bus from another city and are consequently too far to drive back home themselves. Tonight was no different, but it felt good, really good, to walk up to the stage and take a big old first place trophy. After the awards had all been handed out, Coach Whitrock surprised me by calling us both back up.
"This doesn't happen often, ladies and gentlemen, but I'm going to invite our first place winners back up to the stage, because we have another award for them. Both of them. As you know, we offer five speaker awards for policy debate. Tonight, whether we dropped the high and low speaker scores or not, two debaters still tied for first place. They just so happen to be teammates. Please hold your applause until the end, in the interest of time, but I'd like to congratulate Mason Montcellier and Lacy Shelton on their first place win. You are tied for best speaker in the policy debate arena."
He handed us two trophies and then said, "I know this is a first and second place trophy, but we didn't anticipate a tie. You two can duke it out when you get to your bus to determine who takes which trophy home."
When we reached the seats next to my mom again, the awards concluded, I tried to give the first place trophy to Mason. "It's your first tournament. You have to take it home."
"It's yours," he said. "You earned it. The only reason I even had anything to say was because of your hard work crafting the unique plan, and your excellent explanations."
I stood up and shook my head, leaving the trophy on the seat.
"Oh come on," Mason whined. "Just take it."
My mom picked it up. "Well if neither of you want it, I'll take it." She sounded exasperated, but she was smiling.
Before we could argue further, our first judge walked up to us. I had no idea any of the judges who weren’t coaches had stuck around. He held his hand out to me and I took it.
"Mr. Langston, right?" I asked.
He nodded before he shook Mason's hand. "I wanted to say congratulations to the two of you. Did I hear the rumors right?"
"What rumors?" I asked.
He stared Mason in the eye. "Was this your first time debating? I saw your very first round?"
Mason grinned. "I was just explaining that Lacy's an excellent teacher."
Mr. Langston whistled. "You better not give up after this tournament. I didn't mention this earlier, but the college I debated for was Yale." He turned so that we could both see his face. "My good friend and former team captain is their recruiter now, and he was lamenting the sorry group of debaters they wound up with this year. He's looking to aggressively recruit some new blood for next year's team. I'd love to send him your information. I bet he'd like to come out and watch the two of you debate, if you're interested."
Uh, heck yeah I was interested. I hastily scribbled down my information and then Mason did, too. After that we had to rush to catch the bus. I could’ve gone home with my mom, but Mason was riding the bus, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye yet. My mom widened her eyes at me knowingly when I told her my bag was on the bus already.
But also, I wanted to check on Drew. I told my mom she wasn’t riding the bus so Mom wouldn’t press me about where she was, but I thought she’d be there.
Only when the bus pulled out, she wasn’t on it. I texted her. WHERE ARE YOU?
She texted back right away. JACK’S TAKING ME HOME.
I sighed. PLEASE BE SAFE. I DON’T WANT YOU TO DIE WHILE WE’RE FIGHTING.
She texted back. WHATEVER, I’M OVER IT.
I gritted my teeth, but everything I thought to say back seemed like it would just make things worse, so I finally put my phone away.
I fell asleep on Mason's shoulder on the way home. I was horrified when I realized upon waking that I'd drooled. I wiped it away quickly and hoped he didn't notice. If he did, he didn't say anything about it. He just gave me a hug goodnight and headed for his dad's car. I walked to my mom's, thinking I'd never had such a great weekend in my life.
I stand up and pass the pages to Dr. Brasher, massaging my cramping hand as I do. I doubt I've ever physically written that many words in my life. He takes his time reading them, and he doesn't offer me a Chick Lit novel, or an iPad, or anything to look at while he does. I sit down on the chaise lounge while he reads and lean backward, closing my eyes. It's not bad in here when no one is pelting you with questions. My reprieve ends too soon.
"What you wrote was fine, but I don't see any problems in any of this," he says. "I thought you were starting with the root of the problem. At some point we’ll need to talk about why she died, and your perceived role in that."
"You don't see a problem in those pages?" I ask, wondering again at his intelligence.
"You mention Drew briefly, and this Jack person, but other than that, no, I don't see any problems."
I sigh. "I didn't see a problem yet either, Dr. Brasher, and let me tell you, that's how the worst ones creep up. It's the problems you don't see that whack you right between the eyes."