I can be open to the possibility of love, I thought.
“Because … you are more important to me than winning. So much more. You always were. I’m sorry if it ever seemed like that wasn’t the case. I was freaked out because I’ve never felt like this about anyone. You’re so … I just…” I trailed off, unable to fully explain.
“Really?” Grace walked over to me. “I’m more important than winning?”
“Oh yes. Really.”
She took my face in her hands. “Really, really?”
“Yes. You really, really are. I also really, really was looking forward to going to prom with you, too,” I said. “I’m sorry nationals was the…”
Her lips met mine and my unnecessary apology faded into the softness of her kiss. We melted into the brightness of the spring moon above us. We only broke apart when someone else tried to get around us to get in the door to the shop.
“Are you coming here for me?” She grinned and glanced up at the yarn store.
“Mostly,” I admitted. “But I like having something to do with my hands while I watch trial videos. It’s like affirmations for your fingers.”
Grace considered that. “I have no idea what you are talking about. But I’ll take your word for it.”
I smiled. “Also good.”
“Let’s go in. If we stay out here too long, Raina is going to finish the cake,” said Grace.
“Lead the way.”
MAY 8: FORCE AND EFFECT
Ms. McClain was in rare form. We all sat in a circle of chairs after our semifinal round at nationals, listening to her. I tried to pay attention, but it was hard to move my mind away from the fact that we were one step from the finals or one step from going home.
“Trying to send the boys’ team instead of our girls. I don’t think so. So I said to the principal, so help me, if you try and pull rank on me, I will never run a fundraiser or athlete study hall again. And you know the football team relies on those to pass,” she said.
“You said that to your boss?” said Kay.
“Oh yes. Threatening a football team’s well-being will work every time. I’ve been saving that one for just the right moment, and it practically presented itself on a platter.”
“You should run for office. I would manage your campaign,” said Kay.
“Nah. Though, I’ll tell you what platform I’d run on. Book-buying budget.”
The two of them laughed.
I paced back and forth, trying to breathe in peace and breathe out panic. When I tried to open my phone to use my meditation app, I saw a bunch of passive aggressive texts from Dad about chores when I got home. That only made my breaths come out faster.
“Don’t hyperventilate, Millie. You pass out, we’ll have to forfeit,” said Veronica.
“It all comes down to points,” I said. “We did okay in these initial plaintiff rounds, but what if we actually…”
“Been there,” said Izzy.
“Done that,” said Grace. She put her arm around me. “We got this.”
“Okay, but in the first nationals round, I almost totally choked when I questioned Claire,” I said.
“I couldn’t tell,” said Claire. “Besides, I am a professional. And so are you.”
“You are such a great witness,” said Izzy.
“Thanks! Listen, you have to have range. And sometimes a character outside your comfort zone is just what you need. You can’t be Emily Webb all the time.” Claire nearly retched at the thought. “When we make it to finals, I don’t care if I have to be the worst. I don’t have to like my character. I don’t have to want to hang out with her. I just have to try and embody her. Briefly.”
“Better you than me,” said Izzy. “I respect your commitment to the craft.”
“Okay, but what about the second round, then?” I said. “My closing—”
“Millie. Stop. You did a great job,” said Veronica. “We all did.”
“Here, here,” said Grace, raising her diet soda to me.
I let myself lean into her. They were right. After all the drama with facing the boys at states, and then almost losing the shot of coming here again because of the boys, I was having trouble letting myself believe them.
Nationals had the same kind of pomp and circumstance as states. Only two of the four teams that had made it to semifinals would advance. Part of me didn’t want us to make it, didn’t want to do it, because I knew what I had planned. I knew what the right thing to do would be. I didn’t want to do it. It’d be easier just to lose now and get our honorary plaques and go home.
The nationals officials entered the room to music over the loudspeaker. They had the same build up to the ceremonial unveiling of the two final, championship teams here as they did at states.
I watched the administrators take the stage to announce them.
I didn’t clap.
I couldn’t even move.
“It’s okay if we don’t…” I said.
Grace squeezed me.
“The two teams advancing to the final round of this year’s National High School Mock Trial Tournament are…”
I held my breath.
“Waverly High from Reno, Nevada, and…”
I exhaled. Well, it was good while it lasted.
“Steelton High, from Steelton, Pennsylvania!”
Oh.
Holy.
Crickets.
I stood up but then immediately had to sit down again. The moment weighed heavily of joy and terror.
“Sh—crap,” said Raina.
“You aren’t joking,” said Veronica.
“I knew we’d do it,” said Claire.
“I … I just…” said Izzy.
Grace knelt down in front of me. She looked great in a gray suit. “You ready for this?” she said.
I looked at her. “One more to go.”
We only had an hour before the afternoon’s final.
“In the worst-case scenario, you’ll get second place. In the country. Not too shabby, girls,” said Kay.
Ms. McClain walked over from the faculty and staff room.
“I have some news, ladies.”
We looked up at her.
My plan faded from my mind. What had seemed like a shiny silver idea instantly tarnished. Obviously, I should have the team do everything I could to win. I couldn’t blow it with my crazy ideas.
“It seems our old friend the Honorable Judge Herman T. Wise will be hearing this year’s final case.”
Those words sunk in.
I knew him. He knew me. Well, not me per se. But Raina and Grace. Lordy. It was a perfect storm. The stupid defense of this terrible case. And now the judge who got more and more awful with every article Grace showed me.
“You’re kidding,” I said.
“You must be,” said Raina.
“Afraid not.”
“Is he the guy from the knitting thing? Well. Things?” said Claire.
“Oh yeah,” said Grace. “That’s him.”
“Don’t count yourselves out! He is meant to be fair and impartial!” said Kay, but she didn’t sound convinced. He hadn’t shown evidence of that before.
I sat there, in that moment. Trials can go a lot of ways. You never really can tell how something is going to turn out. Sometimes history decides great events. Sometimes small acts of free will that don’t matter much in the scheme of things are everything to one person.
We could win this. I knew we could. I had the best witnesses, I was sure. My lawyers would rally. We could win and we’d be recognized at Mock Trial colleges and I could move out and be free.
But Grace looked like she was going to throw up at the thought of going in for the win defending hate speech. Defending the right of people to use their fake moral voice to keep other human beings down. Izzy’s face had turned a greenish shade that didn’t look like it was humanly possible. This was personal for her. For me, really. For all of us.
And my dad thought it was the right side to be on.
But there wasn’t really any reason to listen to him anymore. There wasn’t a compelling argument anywhere to make me listen to anyone but myself.
“All right, everyone,” I said. “We need to talk.”
“I will be the best soccer captain I can be,” said Grace. “I can embrace my part for the greater good.”
“An actress is an actress,” said Izzy. “I will play my part.”
“Obviously, we are going to win this,” said Claire. “Millie, we got you.”
All three of them still looked uneasy, even Claire. She had the worst part in this whole thing; her character was written as such a jerk.
“I’m ready,” said Veronica.
“Same,” said Raina. “I’ve been practicing my speech in front of the mirror for days. I can lie to the Dropped Stitchers.”
“Ms. McClain, Kay, excuse us, please.” I looked around at the team. “Huddle up, team.”
Ms. McClain and Kay obliged.
Everyone circled around and looked at me.
“You lot have been amazing. From the beginning, you’ve given everything you had. And listening to all the arguments and winning by defending these people can’t feel great. It feels … too much like someone else’s beliefs and arguments. Which is what Mock Trial is, but I’d always been able to believe in it until now. So … why don’t we rebel a little?”
Silence greeted me.
“What?” said Izzy.
“We are still the defense in name. But what if we got out there and just put out what we thought? Play it like it really is. That this isn’t a safety and respect issue. That it’s a free-speech versus hate-speech issue. That our side is wrong, and we know it.”
“You want us to throw the case?” said Grace. “For real?”
“No, not throw it. Just be a little truer to ourselves.”
“Wouldn’t true to ourselves be winning?” said Claire.
I straightened up to all the height my full five-foot-one inches would give me. “I thought so. For a really long time, I thought so. But now I’ve realized that sometimes the winning side and the right side aren’t always the same thing. Especially when it comes to the law.”
Or living in my own home.
“I know I’ve been the one holding out on this jury. But I’ve been swayed. And I say we side with the case that we think is the just one.”
I looked at Grace. She grinned. She put her hand in.
“I’m so angry,” she said.
“Livid,” said Izzy.
“Motivated,” said Veronica.
“I’m not sure what you are saying,” said Claire. “But I trust you, Millie.”
“I’ll explain,” said Raina. “Emilia Goodwin, with the dissent. Who’d have thought?”
“Let’s go be angry,” I said. “Or motivated. But triumphant, either way.”
The courtroom felt electric. It’s as if everyone around us could feel that something was different this time. That the defense had fire burning through us that everyone couldn’t see, couldn’t understand, but could feel.
The Honorable Herman T. Wise came in as we stood, witnesses were sworn in, and the air of incredible anticipation hung in the air. Here I was, at nationals. Not how I thought I’d get here, not doing what I thought I’d be doing. But it felt right.
“Welcome, teams. I see we have one from Nevada—Welcome to the Keystone State!—and one from … well, well, well.” He looked up from his notepad. “If it isn’t Steelton High.” He glowered down at us for a second. I couldn’t tell if he looked pleased or annoyed. Maybe he just wondered how we could get this far and end up together.
At least, I wondered that. It was fitting, though, for what we were about to do.
He looked like he was going to say something directly to Raina or Grace but thought better of it. “Very well. This is an interesting case. Defense, I understand you won the coin toss. When you’re ready.”
I stood. “Thank you, Your Honor. Fellow humans of the court. We are here today representing Charlotte Gray, principal of Anywhere High School in Anytown, USA. She posits that a club called the Social Justice League has targeted her for harassment and made the learning environment unfriendly and unsafe for people of opinions different than their group. We will prove, beyond the burden of all proof, that this is the truth. The Social Justice League makes the environment unsafe for bigots, racists, and defenders of unfair social policies meant to keep others down. My client is one such person, in a district filled with small-minded people just like her.”
I paused, to let the audible gasp from everyone in the audience and the plaintiff side die down.
“We will present to you Ms. Gray, who believes firmly that love is not love. That it must conform to a narrow idea that I can’t even call antiquated. Because throughout history, consenting, adult people have paired off in every imaginable configuration. We will then present to you Eden Ward, founder of the Real Love Club, which for that same reason is allowed to exist despite its policies of discrimination and targeted harassment against the Anytown High School LGBT community. And finally, we will hear from Taylor Quinn, a student who doesn’t seem to care about her fellow humans, just about whether the actions of a just few will disturb her team’s chances at reaching the championships. Through this testimony, we will show the court that we believe hate speech is, in fact, protected by law, whereas arguments to the contrary are not. Because arguments to the contrary challenge the status quo, and we can’t have that and maintain law and order. Thank you, Your Honor.”
I turned, nodded to the plaintiffs, all of whom stared back in wide-eyed awe.
“What are you doing?” said Kay quietly.
“The right thing,” I said.
17
RAINA PETREE,
:
IN THE COURT OF
:
ALLEGHENY COUNTY
Plaintiff,
:
:
v.
:
CIVIL ACTION-LAW
:
NO SMALL ROLES,
:
Case No. CMUWHO22
:
:
Defendant
:
MAY 8: RELEVANT PERSONS AND ENTITIES
I looked up at Judge Wise. He stared at us. But what could he do? We weren’t violating any rules, exactly. We were presenting our case.
The plaintiff team got up.
“The defense started the case by bringing up points essential to our argument…” she began.
We questioned our witnesses and theirs, pointing out each time the Social Justice League was penalized for doing the exact same thing Real Love was. And when they questioned us, it became evident that no one really thought the knit rainbow was threatening.
Except maybe Judge Wise.
Finally, I walked over to the podium for the closing. I looked over at the stunned team from Nevada and flashed my most radiant actress grin.
“You’ve heard from the plaintiff’s team that this is a matter of right versus wrong,” I began. God, I felt so alive. I loved this speech. I’m glad I spent two years studying improv. “The freedom of speech is guaranteed by the founders of the United States. And surely, they meant all manner of discrimination, bigotry, and outward cruelty to their fellow persons,” I finished. I turned to sit back down but then went to the microphone one more time. “Also, more than ninety to ninety-eight percent of sexual-assault claims are credible. False reporting just isn’t generally a thing, and agents of the court should know that. Rape culture is what makes anyone think otherwise and maybe we should work to change that. Thank you.”
The plaintiff’s team just sort of restated what I said, minus the rape culture bit.
Later that night, at the awards banquet where our nationals’ fates were to be decided (well, if Millie hadn’t gone all superhero lawyer), the team from the Reno team came over to us.
“That was the most epic thing I’ve ever seen,” opening-statement girl said.
“You shou
ld have seen us at state. We were defense. It felt gross,” said one of the cross-examiners.
“I didn’t feel gross. I almost got kicked off the team for seeing the validity in the defense’s argument when we presented it,” said closing-argument girl. She rolled her eyes. “But I’m glad we probably won.”
The other two shook their heads at her and went back to their team table. Even if I didn’t agree with closing-argument girl, I understood her motivation.
Claire sat next to me. “How are you feeling?”
“Strangely powerful,” I said. “I don’t think Ms. McClain is so happy with us.”
“Oh yes, she is. She just has to put on that teacher face. I heard her telling Kay how proud she was of all of us. If we are going to go down, might as well go down for a good cause.”
“Agreed.”
“You know, I actually saw on the news that something like this happened near us. Only it was at a community theater. They had groups who could come in and perform local playwrights’ scripts. One was this horrible piece detailing how the world would be better when men completely controlled women’s reproductive health. Like that isn’t almost reality, you know?”
“Shut up. Are you kidding?” I said.
“No! I’ll send you the article when I get home. I saved the link on my school email.”
I clenched my fists. I could think of a certain local scriptwriter who would be receiving knit responses to his work. Maybe I could write plays to put on at this place to counterprogram this nonsense.
Just then, the pomp and circumstance arrived for the Mock Trial national competition closing. It wasn’t that exciting, knowing that there was absolutely no chance we were going to win.
And we didn’t.
We collected our runner-up awards before the Reno team got the biggest, goldest, most glorious trophy I’d ever seen.
Millie looked at it longingly.
“I’m number two!” said Claire, holding her certificate up to the light to see its watermark.
“This will complement the wait-list letters on my wall nicely,” I said.
“You printed them out?” said Claire.
Six Angry Girls Page 24
