“I think so.”
“Oh, c’mon. It was last year, and we were going to throw a surprise birthday party for her boyfriend, Tariq, only she did it without me?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I wish I didn’t.” She pauses and winces. “So, I had drawn up all of these plans for the party, and she had seemed so excited. But then Caroline went ahead and picked a random date for it, which wasn’t even Tariq’s birthday, and literally tells me that morning to show up later. And she didn’t do any of the stuff we’d planned for it. I was so mad. We had such a big blow-up about it. But later I realized that it wasn’t really about me. I had wanted to have a big party, but Caroline was embarrassed about her house—it’s really small. So she wanted to keep the guest list small too.”
“Oh,” I say. “But Jana doesn’t have a small house. Her house is really big, actually. A two-story. Way bigger than our ranch.”
“Maddie, that’s not what I mean exactly, except there might be other stuff going on with people. Sometimes you just have to forgive, that’s all.”
“Okay, yeah. I get it.” I pick up the remote to turn on the TV. It’s Sunday and I’m allowed to watch two hours of Netflix, after all.
“And one more thing,” adds Elvie.
“What?” I ask.
My sister raises her hand and dashes out of the room. “Hold that thought.”
I hear her clomping up the stairs, and two minutes later she’s back with a teal blue fabric headband. “This headband would look so good with that sweater.” She gestures at the sweater I’m wearing. It’s also teal.
“You’re right,” I say.
She smiles. “I know.”
“Maybe I’ll wear it tomorrow. For my debate.”
She gives me a thumbs-up and heads back to her room, for more studying, of course.
The headband is a perfect color blue, I think. Just like the color of Jacob’s eyes.
Thinking about Jacob just reminds me of Jana, though, which reminds me of my mess. I know my sister was trying to help, but I don’t think anything can help right now.
“There’s one more thing I wanted to tell you.” Elvie is suddenly back. She looks nervous. She sits down on the couch. “There’s a reason why I’ve been getting home late recently.”
“It’s because of your study groups, right?”
Elvie fiddles with the threads on a throw cushion. “Actually, no. I’ve been working two days a week at the Friendly Bean.”
“What? Really?”
“Remember that Help Wanted sign?”
I nod. “I think so.”
“Well, I applied the day after I took you there, that weekend before school started. I’ve been working there after school. I wanted to start earning my own money, but Mom and Dad didn’t believe that I could keep my grades up and do all the stuff that I do if I also got a job. But I knew differently. I had to prove it to them.”
I stare at my sister. “Wow. You’ve been keeping that secret this whole time!”
“Yup,” she says. “And I really like working there. They’ve taught me how to make the perfect cup of coffee. There’s a real art to it. I’m not too good with the steaming machine yet, but I’m getting there. I’ve been saving a lot of money too. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be able to buy an electric bass for sure.”
“That’s awesome, Elvie. Can you get free stuff there?”
She shakes her head. “But I do get an awesome employee discount. And sometimes they have day-old desserts they give us for a treat.”
“Are you going tell Mom and Dad?”
“Yes,” she says. “As soon as I can work up my nerve. It’s been driving me crazy, keeping this inside. Really, I don’t like lying, or avoiding telling the truth. It makes me feel guilty all the time.”
“Your grades are still perfect, aren’t they?”
She smiles. “Yeah, pretty much. I just got an A on my AP US History test.”
“I think Mom and Dad are going to be fine with your little secret.”
“I certainly hope so,” she says.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“You think I should tell them now?” My sister looks worried.
“Yes,” I say. “Now. You don’t want them finding out another way. Trust me.”
Chapter Twenty-one:
REBUTTAL TROUBLE
On Monday, I duck into Social Studies and see that the layout of the room has been completely altered. I’m so nervous I couldn’t eat lunch. Well, okay, two bites of the sandwich that Mom made for me. Even that is churning in my stomach.
I’m feeling light-headed. I blink and try to steady myself.
Hold it together, I tell myself. The only good thing that has come out of this whole mess is that Elvie actually told our parents about her job. At first they were really upset that she hadn’t told them before, and they were especially angry that she had lied to them and said she’d been home late because of study group or club meetings. But Elvie explained how she wanted more independence and how she was old enough to choose some of her activities. And she showed them how her grades hadn’t dropped at all.
Once Mom and Dad got over the initial surprise, they were actually pretty impressed. Dad wanted Elvie to make him a cappuccino right at home, but Elvie calmly explained we didn’t have the right equipment for that. My parents needed to visit her at the Friendly Bean, and they planned on doing that this weekend.
Elvie was lucky that her secret didn’t result in the mess that mine did.
The desks in Social Studies have been pushed out of the way, except for a few in front of the whiteboard. Thirty chairs form a semicircle around the perimeter of the room. In addition to the HISTORY ROCKS banner and the poster featuring Roman soldiers in their armor, there is also a giant banner that reads DEBATE TIME!
Yes, it’s today, our big debate. Jacob and I are going up against Jana and Fiona. My stomach tightens. It all feels like some cruel joke.
I look around for Jana. She and Fiona the Betrayer stand in the back, arranging note cards into neat stacks along the counter.
Jana catches my eye and glares at me.
She hates me. Completely hates me.
I shuffle past a group of kids standing in the center of the classroom and move toward Jacob, who’s over by the pencil sharpener. All around me, students chatter, clearly curious to watch the first debates of the year. We don’t yet know the order of who’s going today. Just that we’re going. That’s enough for me. I don’t think knowing would help me relax. A few kids hurry past me to speak to Ms. Yoon, who is at her desk, folding placards that say “pro/proposition” and “con/opposition.”
Jacob paces, probably practicing his opening argument. Taking a shuddering breath, I walk up to him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jana heading our way.
“Hey, Maddie,” Jacob says, running his fingers through his hair.
“Hey.” I shrug off my backpack and drop it by my feet. I keep my eyes on Jana.
“What happened to everyone during lunch today?” asks Jacob.
“Oh, right. I forgot to say I was in the library,” I tell him, lowering my voice. “I wanted to prepare. I don’t know where everyone else went.” Probably the girls’ bathroom, I think, to complain about me. Even though Jacob and I have been texting, we’ve managed to avoid talking about my fight with Jana. Probably because at some level he knows he’s the reason for it.
Jana steps up to the pencil sharpener.
“Ready for the big showdown?” asks Jacob.
“Sure.” Now it’s my turn to pace. My throat feels tight, like I’m coming down with a cold. Even though I know I’m not. I can feel Jana’s eyes like lasers burning the back of my head.
“Oh, look,” says Jacob, turning to face Jana as the sharpener whirs. I turn too. “It’s the enemy, the pro side.” He smiles at Jana.
“That’s right,” answers Jana, her voice hard. “We’re the pros and you guys are just cons.” She blows—actually more
like huffs—on her now extra-pointy pencil and marches back to Fiona.
My face heats up as we walk toward our seats.
“Wow, Jana seems ready to attack,” says Jacob. “She’s taking this very seriously.”
“Uh huh.” I sink into my chair. “She sure is.”
Jacob pulls a binder out of his backpack. “Maddie, are you all right? You look a little”—he pauses—“pale. Are you feeling sick again or something?”
“I’m fine,” I say, because Jacob is the very last person I can tell what’s really wrong. I wish I actually had been sick on Friday. If the nurse had sent me home, then I would have never run into Jacob, and Jana would have never run into the truth.
Speaking of Jana, she’s high-fiving Fiona about something. Something about me, no doubt.
Unzipping my backpack, I pull out my note cards and shakily stack them on my lap. “Do you think Ms. Yoon will be able to tell if we read from our notes?” I whisper, quickly glancing back at our teacher.
“Definitely,” says Jacob.
The bell rings to start class, and Ms. Yoon stands in front of her desk. She places the pro and con placards onto the four empty desks. She holds up a small, egg-shaped timer. “We’re going to start right away, since we need to get through three debates today. The first group will be debating whether we should have school uniforms.” Ms. Yoon pauses and then pats the four empty desks in front of the whiteboard. “So, Landon, Bryce, Risa, and Keisha, come on up. You’re all in the hot seats.”
There’s cheering and a few sighs as the first group proceeds to the front of the class. I glance over at Jana and see she’s frowning. She probably just wants to go first and just get it over with.
The dueling teams sit down and place their notes on their desks.
“After this group,” continues Ms. Yoon, “We’ll have the teams arguing for and against year-round school. Then we’ll have the group debating school security cameras.”
I look directly at Jacob and he looks at me. Wow. Okay, momentarily, I had somehow forgotten how bright his eyes were. It’s crazy, but his lashes are way darker than mine. And mine are pretty dark.
“We’re last,” he whispers. “More time to prepare.”
“More like more time to get nervous,” I say under my breath as Ms. Yoon goes over how the debate will proceed.
“Please, no talking,” Ms. Yoon says, putting her finger to her lips. “I know you’ve heard the rules before. The format of this debate has been altered from what you might see with our after-school debate society, but the basic principles are the same. The opening statement is five minutes. This will include a hook, the body of your argument with three main points backed by evidence, then a closing summary of your position. The rebuttal, which will be four minutes, follows, and is, as we discussed, impromptu. However, you should have anticipated your opponent’s arguments already. You can also take notes while your opponent presents his or her opening statement and the body of the argument. The rebuttal team members will also present a closing statement. This should be something emotional that persuades the audience that you have won the debate.”
She waves her timer. “I’ll let you know when you’re almost out of time by holding up my fingers. Also, another thing. Audience members can’t speak, but they may stamp their feet if they like a point. Traditionally in debate, we pound on our desks, but we’re modifying it a bit. In addition, everyone in the audience must write down one question they’d like to ask the proposition and one question for opposition. At the end of the class, please hand them to me. These will be graded.” She peers around the room. “Any questions before we begin?”
There are a bunch of questions, including dumb ones like, If I’m debating do I have to write down an audience question? After she finishes responding to all the questions, it’s finally time.
The debates officially begin.
Fiona keeps on looking back at me and then at Jacob. Her eyes practically bounce like ping-pong balls from him to me. Jana obviously told her everything that happened.
I feel queasy. Jana has been confiding in Fiona the Betrayer, who is also Jacob’s cousin. Does Jacob now know everything too? A surge of anger shoots through me, and I can barely concentrate on the debate going on in front of the class. I’m supposed to be listening as an active audience member. But I just can’t.
Jacob studies me a moment and scrawls in his notebook. What’s Going On?
Nerves, I scribble back, and make a happy face even though I’m not feeling so happy. Okay, I guess he doesn’t know.
He glances up to make sure Ms. Yoon is not looking, and then writes, You’ll be Awesome.
I give a wavery smile and try to listen to the debate. Risa speaks emphatically and slowly. I hear phrases like “Why spend money?” and “Fashion is expensive,” but I’m not exactly following her.
I try to focus for just long enough to write down my two required questions to turn in to Ms. Yoon. When I’m done with that, the rest of debate just sounds like “blah blah blah” punctuated by the occasional polite stomping of feet by the audience and banging on desks by the debate team. I can’t concentrate. I can only feel Jana’s burning stare.
Plus, I’m sitting right next to Jacob.
This is only the second time I’ve sat next to him.
Normally during Social Studies our desks have been pushed together so that we face each other, like at a dinner table. In the caf, Jana always made sure to sit next to him.
I’m so hyperaware of Jacob’s nearness. His leg is only inches from my leg. Even his breathing is distracting.
He starts to tap my clog with the front of his running shoe.
I stiffen. Any other time, I’d be thrilled, but I can feel Jana’s eyes on me. She whispers to Fiona, who seems to have been fully restored to the number-one best-friend position.
Ms. Yoon announces that the year-round school debate group is now up.
That means in about ten minutes it will be our turn. I try to take deep, calming breaths. It doesn’t help.
There’s lot of fidgeting in the classroom. Paper rustles. Chairs scrape on the floor. The thumping of feet on the floor during exciting points gets a little louder. It’s not because the arguments aren’t that interesting, it’s just that everyone’s getting a little bored. By the time it’s our turn to go up, everyone will be dying for class to be over.
I once again focus on the debate long enough to write out two questions. Max Fisker is saying something about how having school during the summer would be awesome since “nobody would forget everything they learned during long vacations.”
While he’s finishing up his argument, Fiona brushes her hair. Jana applies lip gloss.
I press my fingers to my own lips. They’re paper dry. I could use some lip gloss myself. But there’s no way I’m putting on makeup in front of Jacob.
A few minutes later, Jana and Fiona are writing furious notes to each other. They pass them back and forth whenever Ms. Yoon turns her head. I’m sure they are writing all about me.
“Just three more minutes,” whispers Jacob. “They’re going down.” He nods at Jana and Fiona.
I give him a thumbs-up.
My ears burn. My throat constricts.
All I know is I didn’t intentionally betray anyone. The opposite, actually. Even though I had a crush on Jacob first, I went along with Jana and the BFF Code and tried to support her crush. But who really decorated Jacob’s locker for his birthday? Why did Jacob really want to sit with us at lunch? Because of me—that’s why. Did I say anything about it? Nooooooo.
Someone is shaking me, and I startle. “It’s our turn,” Jacob says gently. “We’re up.”
“Oh, right,” I manage, jumping up and forgetting about the stack of note cards on my lap. They spill to the floor. As I pick them up, Jana and Fiona cover their mouths to contain their laughter.
Ms. Yoon holds up her timer. “Are we ready to start our last debate?”
Not really.
We all si
t down in the desks in front of the whiteboard. Jana knows how much I hate public speaking. She and Fiona probably think I’m going to be really bad.
“Ready to fight?” asks Jacob, his blue eyes intense.
“You bet I am.” And this time I’m not telling a lie. This time I mean it.
Jacob’s opening argument goes really well. During the body of his argument, he gives the example of a middle school that had cameras installed in the boys’ and girls’ locker rooms. The cameras filmed girls changing and then unauthorized people downloaded those images, he explained. Hundreds of them.
People bang their feet on the floor and shake their heads, disgusted. Score for Jacob. Meanwhile, Jana is busy writing down notes for her rebuttal. Whatever she’s writing down pleases her, because she has this smug look on her face.
Jacob ends with, “The real question is what is better—security or freedom? I’m always going to go for freedom.” He sits back down and there’s more stamping of feet. I pound on my desk.
Fiona is, unfortunately, really good. As she speaks, I’m furiously scribbling down what she says so I can make my counterarguments. It all feels like a game of soccer. Someone attacks and then someone else blocks. The other team takes possession and the pattern begins again.
Before I know it, it’s rebuttal time.
It will just be Jana and me for the final showdown.
Jana goes first. She throws back her shoulders and stands up extra straight. “My opponent said that schools without cameras are places of freedom. But you can’t be free where there is crime. Knowing that the school has surveillance cameras will allow students, parents, teachers—everybody in a school—a sense of security and safety. They will always know what’s really going on.”
Lots of kids nod. Fiona swells with pride and bangs on her desk in approval. Ms. Yoon writes something down on that spreadsheet of hers.
“My opponent also said that cameras couldn’t catch everything,” continues Jana. “However, that’s not true! There are many tools for capturing criminals and unwanted and disgusting behavior.” Jana’s eyes graze a note card on her desk. She talks about fisheye cameras that give 360-degree views and night vision cameras. She explains how cameras send a strong message to criminals that they are unwanted. That video footage will provide proof of wrongdoing.
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