I moved into the Best Western with the rest of the conspiracy immediately following the performance, since I figured it would be a good idea to disappear, ghostlike, into the ether for a little bit. I didn’t want to give Taryn the chance to choke me to death with her adorable mini-shirts.
I took fifth place in original oratory. Last in the round. Jasmine Wu was crowned the winner shortly after my speech. It was a madhouse afterward. I tried to make my way through the convention center, but kids kept coming up to me from other schools—people wanted my autograph. They wanted to tell me about their speech programs, how they were different, how if I was looking for a better program, I should totally join up. An admissions counselor from the University of Missouri found me and gave me her card, saying she’d look out for me.
Lakshmi had to give Grandma Bridges a ride back to Des Moines, so by the time she reappeared it was close to midnight. She had the zombified look of a person who had driven eight hundred miles in a day, back and forth from the oh-so-exciting terrain of northern Missouri to the oh-so-exciting terrain of southern Iowa.
“Next time we do one of these conspiracies, one of you bastards is driving,” she said, tossing her keys next to the television as she surveyed the room.
“I can’t drive,” I said.
“Neither can I,” said Thomas.
“You don’t want me to drive,” said Elijah.
Lakshmi flopped on the hard mattress of the Best Western. “I talked to Rani on the way back. Apparently the school is burning down.”
“Really?” I asked.
“I mean, not with actual flames. But I guess everyone was losing their minds that the team was crapping out, and then when you got up there”—she jabbed a finger at me—“all hell broke loose. I guess when Sparks charged the stage the principal tried to cut off the projector, but everyone had it on their phone at that point. Crazy shit. People started shouting. Somebody threw something. From what Rani heard, two other former speech members popped out of the woodwork to complain to the principal. People who graduated started talking.”
I hadn’t even thought to check my phone. I had twenty-nine text messages. Some from newspapers.
“Holy shit,” I said. “I think we did it.”
“Yeah, we did,” said Lakshmi.
By the time we got back to Minnesota on Saturday I was moderately famous. (Okay, I had been interviewed by one newspaper, but I feel like that qualifies.) Word had spread over social media, though, and clips of Sparks trying to tackle me had made the local news. There were a lot of tweets about changing the culture.
When my mom came home from work, she was overjoyed to see me. She’d heard about what went down somehow, and enveloped me in a huge hug, her SpongeBob uniform clashing with everything else in existence. Charlie approached me like he approached everyone else—out of his mind with excitement.
“You did great, honey,” my mom said. “So proud of you.”
Luke came over, hands clasped behind his back. “I’m not even gonna high-five you right now, because you are beyond that. But I am mentally fist-bumping you.”
I looked at him. “I am mentally fist-bumping you, too, Luke.”
“Sweet.” He nodded. “By the way, next time somebody tries to tackle you, I’ve got some killer moves I can show you. I used to teach aerobic kickboxing.”
I thought about it. “I guess that’s okay.”
Mom took a look at me again. “Pretty badass, honey. Pretty badass.”
“Yes, it was.” I smiled.
Joey Sparks did not come back to Eaganville High School. He was placed on administrative leave without pay, indefinitely, while the school sorted through complaints about his behavior. Parents were calling up and wondering why the principal hadn’t done anything about him sooner. His head was likely the next one on the chopping block. (Even though, let’s be honest, this was Minnesota, so they were going to decapitate Principal Gustafson in the nicest possible manner while serving him a horrific fish dinner.)
At lunch, when we were back, I sat with my friends again. The surviving members of the varsity squad returned to the cafeteria, banished from the teachers’ lounge and their inexhaustible supply of parent-made casserole. Hanson, who hadn’t eaten a cafeteria lunch in more than two years, miserably trudged to a chair, holding a tray with a humiliated-looking slice of pepperoni pizza. I watched him take a bite, then set it down sadly, a single tear sliding down his cheek. (Okay, that was embellishment, but he had to eat cafeteria food and that was pretty harsh punishment, is what I’m saying.)
Taryn took the loss of the faculty bathroom particularly hard, and rumor had it she could be found wandering the halls during class time, looking for a place to pee in peace and quiet.
Rani approached our table.
“Can I sit here?” she asked quietly.
Thomas moved over. “Sure.”
She settled in and took out her lunch, which was exactly the same as her sister’s.
“So,” she said, “I’m sorry I was being such a dick.”
“Happens,” said Lakshmi.
“Not to you. To Sydney.”
“Um,” said Lakshmi. “You were being a giant dick to me, too.”
“You’re my sister; of course I’m a dick to you. God.”
I cut in. “Apology accepted, Rani. And what did I tell you about Anesh?”
Rani looked wistful. “Mmm.” Lakshmi smacked her shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! He’s such trash.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“He’s good for a night or two and that’s it.”
Lakshmi’s mouth opened in shock.
“God, I’m kidding again, you are so gullible! You think I’m a child.”
“You are a child,” growled Lakshmi, looking up.
Sarah was standing there. “Hey. I was wondering if I could sit here.”
“Please,” said Rani.
As Sarah sat down, Lakshmi caught my eye and smiled.
On Wednesday, Taryn stopped me after history class. “I just want to say,” she said, “that for most of this season I really hated you, but I’m over that, and now I don’t think about you at all.”
“That’s wonderful to hear, I guess.”
“I understand what you did. And I guess I…” The words hurt her coming out. “Slightly respect you for that. But also—me and Milo totally hooked up after that performance. It was hot. We’re in love now.”
I tried to escape.
“He showed me that story, and we did half of those things afterward.”
“Okay, I’m leaving now.”
“Just so you know. I’m currently writing a sequel and I would love it if you would read it.”
“Nope,” I said.
“Maybe I can do it for OO next year.”
Logan, because he had thrown a punch at Anesh, did receive some punishment:
A day of ISS—with some peer counseling.
I smiled as I sat down opposite him. “Think of me like a priest. Or a therapist.” I leaned in, holding a little notebook. “Tell me about your father.”
As for my father, I told him all about it the next week. I even showed him the YouTube clip.
“Wow,” he said. “Powerful stuff.”
“Thank you.”
“I told you that you were a good speaker. You know, they let some of those birds free after you talked to the pet store. You were that persuasive.”
“They did not.” I smiled.
“All right, fine, that was a lie. And I’m not gonna do that anymore. But you know what is the truth? You should be a motivational speaker.”
“Not a chance in hell.” I laughed.