I get up early on Saturday morning and force myself to eat breakfast. My stomach is a tangle of butterflies, but it’s a different feeling from the usual anxiety. I think Audrey and I will flatten the opposition. I suspect Mr. Chadderton thinks so too.
Our school is sending six of us—three teams of two. It’s not the biggest tournament ever, but there will be a dozen middle schools in total. The schools that win this tournament will go on to regionals in early spring. In high school, you can compete for nationals.
Which I’m sure Dad fully expects I will do.
After breakfast I head upstairs to get organized. I make one last list: tips for public speaking.
I shower and get dressed. I have to do my tie three times before I get the knot in the right place. My heart starts to patter a little too fast. I take a deep breath and hold it.
Mom calls up to me. “Are you ready, Chick?”
I release my breath in a quick whoosh. “Yeah, Mom!” I yell back.
My desk is still a mess after my meeting with Audrey last night. I find the debate file folder and stuff it into my courier bag. I double-check that my extra deodorant is in there too. One can never be too scentless.
I sling the bag over my shoulder and take the stairs two at a time.
Elijah is still asleep, his door closed. The lucky schmuck gets a whole morning with no one in the house to bother him.
My mother is standing at the bottom of the stairs, pink-cheeked and smiling. “Your dad’s warming up the car,” she says. “Are you excited? I’m so excited to watch you, honey.”
“Mom, you’ve watched a debate before.”
“I know, but this is your first tournament. It’s an occasion!” She hugs me.
When she lets me go, I grin and smooth my shirt. “Let’s go.”
The drive to G.E. Wilkinson is long. I can feel Dad’s eyes on me in the rearview mirror. I pretend to jot notes for the debate so I don’t have to look up.
By the time we pull into a parking spot, the lot is already half full.
“I’m going to bolt,” I say, gathering my bag. “I want to run something past Mr. Chadderton before we start.”
“We’ll look for you in there,” Mom says. “Good luck, sweetie!”
Then my dad speaks. “Chick,” he says. “Just a minute.” He starts to unbuckle his seat belt.
But this is the last thing I can deal with today. “Sorry, Dad,” I say. “I gotta blaze.” There’ll be hell to pay. But I can’t let him rattle me.
I slam the door before I can hear his response.
I’m all the way across the parking lot when it hits me that he didn’t call me Tadeusz.
He called me Chick.
“We’re up last,” says Audrey. She drops her binder onto the table and slips into the chair beside me. I move mine closer.
I open my folder and pull out a blank sheet from behind all the others. No one’s going to think it’s odd that I’m writing a list in the tense moments leading up to a debate. Iyengar is leafing through his notes, and Johnna is scribbling furiously.
I’ll keep things on topic.
Effective Debating Strategies
1. Straight, relaxed posture. Shoulders back
2. Projecting your voice from the diaphragm, not your chest
3. Eye contact with the judges
4. Strongest arguments first
Mr. Chadderton pokes his head into our room. “Okay, everybody. The judges are set up.”
My head starts to feel a little floaty. The others stand and push their chairs in. Should I try to look for Mom and Dad in the audience? Or is that a stupid idea?
“We’re starting with Randy and Johnna, up against a team from Maria Montessori.” Mr. Chadderton reads from a sheet of paper.
Audrey looks at me. “Do you want to go in and watch?”
“Maybe in a while.”
She glances at my list, then at my face. She nods.
I breathe deeply as Johnna and Randy file through the doorway.
“Good luck, you guys,” Audrey stage-whispers.
Randy gives her a thumbs-up.
Instinctively, I close the folder as Gary passes our table.
He holds out his hand. “Break a leg.”
I slap his hand. “You guys too.”
Iyengar fakes a sudden pain in his leg and limps out the door, moaning. Gary smothers a laugh.
The door closes behind Iyengar and Gary, and Audrey and I are left alone.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Not at all.”
Concern knits her brow.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I won’t flake out on you or anything. We’ll kick butt.” I open my folder again. I wish I could believe the words I’m telling her. It’s just that…my dad…and a debate. Both in the same building at the same time. Today is going to be one hellish day.
It’s interesting that Audrey and I are debating the assertion that today’s youth are overprogrammed. I don’t consider myself overprogrammed. Debate Club and soccer are the only two things I do. But I’m supposed to do my two things like a boss. And I do. I was voted mvp of our soccer team at the end of last season. And I’m always the first person people turn to when they need help refining an argument. They talk to me even before they go to Mr. Chadderton. And usually my team comes out on top when the debates roll.
Still, it’s not good enough. It’s never good enough for him.
Audrey and I are arguing against the assertion. Persuading the judges that today’s youth aren’t overprogrammed. Even though people in my own class are under some serious pressure. People like Annie Allers, who does three different kinds of dance as well as violin. Or Devon Poon, who plays piano and has to go to Chinese school all day on Saturdays.
Sometimes I wonder what this does to your brain—having to persuade other people that you’re right and they’re wrong when you don’t even believe what you’re saying. How does that not mess up a person’s mind?
I could never be a lawyer.
“I don’t really care if we kick butt or not,” Audrey says. She doesn’t believe in our position either.
“Well, if we don’t, I’ll be disowned. So fake it.”
She smiles.
I pick up my pen. “Give me three tips for conducting a good debate.”
“Um, a loud voice.”
“Already got that.”
She reads over my list. “Speak with conviction. And take notes during the other team’s rebuttal.”
I write these down. My anxiety eases a little.
“Use hand gestures to engage your audience and strengthen your position.”
“Good one,” I say. I scratch the words onto the paper in front of me. “You forgot one.”
“What?”
I put my pen down and take her hand. “Pick a wicked partner.”
Audrey smiles. And then I kiss her.