by Kellie Bean
I look out over the crowd to see a few hands have already shot into the air, begging for a chance to grab the attention of the room.
Soon, any sense of order is gone. Both the principal and the mayor try to explain themselves, emphasizing that they didn't want this anymore than anyone else did every few sentences.
"How come none of the arts were affected?" A voice shouts out from the back of the room. A few more people jump in, seconding the question.
Mr. Pratt holds up a hand. "We did our best to distribute the remaining funds between different extracurricular areas. A variety of clubs have been affected, but as our sports teams were the only ones to have officially started before the school year, they were the ones that needed to be immediately addressed."
The murmur of the crowd dies down a little as if for some of these parents, hearing that the arts have been affected as well actually makes them feel better about any of this. It only pisses me off more. I really have zero interest in taking pictures after school, or sketching landscapes, or whatever it is art clubs do. I should still have the option!
Would more people have shown up tonight if they'd known exactly how much these budget cuts are going to change the options their kids have this year?
Soon, evidently sick of fielding questions, Mr. Pratt calls up a man I quickly recognize as the new coach of the guys team, introducing him as Mr. Thomas. Apparently, he's also an algebra teacher. He talks enthusiastically about his plans for both the guy’s soccer team and the basketball team. Many of the teachers and parents nod along, but the town's officials don't seem to be at all moved by his words.
"Next up, we have a student representative who has requested to speak. Reece Donovan?”
Wait. That's me!
Frantically, I look over at my mom. I was supposed to speak last! They told me there would be at least three people talking before I would.
I hadn't even started to worry about my turn yet, let alone read back over the cards I have in my hand.
Mom gives me an encouraging nod, but it doesn't get me any more excited about the speech I'm about to make.
"Hi. My name is Reece Donovan," I start as soon as I reach the podium at the front of the room. Ugh. They already know my name. Already, my cheeks are flush with embarrassment as words stumble out of my mouth, barely caught by the microphone sitting right in front of me. I surge onward, reading off the cue cards in front of me.
“We can’t hear you!” someone shouts from the back of the room.
Painfully aware of all of the eyes on me, I fumble with the dial on the device, hoping for a little more volume. "Any better?"
I can hear the difference in volume right away, a few people in the audience nod their approval. No one else is speaking now. Instead, everyone is waiting to hear what I have to say. Part of me hopes they lose interest quickly and get distracted by their phones or their neighbors, but the attention of the people in this room is the whole reason I’m here.
This is my chance to make a difference.
Immediately, my eyes find Noah's then Vice Principal Singh's.
No. Don't look at the crowd. I lock my gaze onto the wall at the back of the room.
I am so going to screw this up.
I take a deep breath and start over, still refusing to look at anyone directly, or to even turn my head enough to confirm if it really is Mindy Harris, a reporter for the town newspaper, I see sitting in the front row.
"I've played soccer for as long as I can remember. There are pictures of me, barely old enough to walk, toddling around in the grass after a ball." All three of my sisters, plus my mom, plus Coach Wasserman have looked over this speech to help me polish it. If they hadn't, I'm sure this whole thing would have been kind of a mess. "Last year when we moved to Fairview, too late for me to join the team, was the first time I didn't play for my school since I was eight years old. When I made the team this year, I was excited for the chance to get to know my new team here, and determined to give my new school the very best of my abilities."
I pause for effect, forcing myself to lower my gaze long enough to make eye contact with a handful of people. I'm so focused on not screwing up the speech that the people I look at barely register in my mind.
"My story is not unique. Every grade at Fairview High School is filled with kids." I had wanted to call us people, but my Mom had insisted that calling ourselves kids would help pull at the heartstrings of my audience, "They look forward to the opportunity to play the sport they love with their classmates, every year. When we learned that this year would be different, we were crushed, confused and more than a little heart broken."
From there, the rest of the lines come pouring out of me so easily that I barely have to look down at my notes. I even improvise in a few places, reading the room and trying to guess at what I can say that might have the greatest impact.
As soon as my nerves have settled a little, I can remember just how much I like standing in the spotlight, having a crowd hang on my every word. It's actually kind of fun, and the importance of the moment only propels me higher.
I can do this.
All too soon, I reach the last of my cards, say my last line and thank my audience for their time. The crowd in front of me starts clapping immediately. I can't help but smile.
However, it's not them I needed to convince. I don't have a chance to look back at those on the city council before I'm ushered back to my Mom.
She gives my shoulder a quick squeeze, which I hope means I did good. Already, someone else is standing and speaking where I was a second ago. My whole speech probably lasted less than five minutes.
The next goes just as quickly, and the next one after that.
I have no idea if any of this is working or not.
It's the thought that all of this will have been for nothing that sends a bead of sweat running down my back, leaving my throat so dry I'm half-tempted to take a break at the water fountain in the hall.
Mr. Pratt returns to the microphone and everyone in the room takes a collective breath.
"Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to address the town this evening, and to all of those who have written letters and phoned in over the past few days. Please know that your voices have been heard."
A few people start talking among themselves. They're quickly shushed by the people around them.
Mr. Pratt continues. "Unfortunately, our budget is what it is. At this point in time, we can't reinstate any of the programs mentioned here tonight without risking cutting off funding the more integral parts of our school; substitute teachers, janitorial and tutoring. Our hands our tied."
Now everyone is talking over each other, even though the head of the PTA is still trying to control the room.
"Please, everyone. Please, just give me a moment. We do understand that many of you feel sports are as integral to the running of a high school as anything else, and that some of your children may have been counting on these teams in order to help them in their post-secondary aspirations. So that being said, we invite all of you to help."
Oh.
Mr. Pratt has my full attention.
"This town has a vibrant community who cares about one another, should community fundraising efforts raise enough money to contribute to things like uniforms, equipment and transportation to games, both Principal Holter and Vice Principal Singh are prepared to pay for the remaining costs by taking from their own salaries."
No way! I look over at the leaders of the school, more than a little surprised.
I'm also a little impressed.
Everyone around me looks excited now. The whispers have already begun again as people start to plan. Fundraising. Sure, I don't love the idea of asking other people to pay so that I get to play soccer, but I'm totally willing to do it.
"One more thing before we go." Mayor Samuelson speaks up, not even needing the mic in order to have her voice carry across the room. "We have a limited time to make this happen. We start our fall teams in the summer b
ecause their games start so early in the school year so that they're able to fit a full season in before the colder weather comes. Our first game is scheduled not next week, but the one following. We'll need to have this decided by then, one way or the other."
Mayor Samuelson has little chance to formally close out the meeting as the room around me takes on a life of its own. Some people seem determined that they can use this opening to get the results they want, others still seem angry. I'm not even sure what to feel.
I'm stuck hovering around in the background while Mom talks to a few different people I don't know, leaving me to realize I'm not all that certain of who my friend's parents are here in Fairview. Back in Richmond, Mom and Dad mostly spent time with other parents from our high school whose kids we'd known since we were in elementary school.
Here, there are people my mom has known her whole life.
A few people approach me and quickly mention that they think I did well, or that they're rooting for us. Thankfully, no one stops to chat. It looks like most of the other kids my age are already gone and I'm anxious to get outside to see if there's anything else I should be doing, now that we're through this part and the team is going to live to fight another day. Sort of.
At least, we've still got a shot, which honestly is more than I thought we'd have.
By the time Mom and I make it outside, it looks like most of the team has already gathered at the far end of the parking lot. Coach Wasserman's tight ponytail is easy to spot since she's practically in the middle of the group.
"Five minutes?" I ask since my mom is still walking toward the car.
As soon as she sees what I'm looking at, she nods. "Take all the time you need. I've got some work emails to answer anyway."
By the time I reach everyone else, it seems like I've missed most of whatever was being discussed. Coach Wasserman is already talking to Emma, their heads bowed together conspiratorially. The rest of the group is already dispersing and returning to their parents.
I find Jamie easily enough, her head bobbing up and down in the crowd as she bounces in place.
"What did I miss?" I ask, as soon as I reach my friend.
"Nothing really. We're just supposed to come up with fundraising ideas tonight, then we'll figure out a plan tomorrow after school. They need to be ideas that don't require a lot of planning."
I nod, already brainstorming while simultaneously feeling guilty for not having gotten outside fast enough to catch the game plan first hand.
"Reece?" I turn to see Noah striding toward me, scrubbing a hand through his dark hair. He's grinning at me. Even though I don't know why, I can't help but smile back.
What? The guy is cute.
"What's up?" I ask as soon as he stops to stand beside me.
"I just wanted to uh...tell you that you were awesome up there tonight. Pretty much everyone on the team wanted a chance to get up there and plead their case and honestly, some of them were pretty pissed that only one student would get the chance was going to be…"
"A girl?" I guess for him.
"Heh...yeah. They're idiots. But, you did great."
For a second, the two of us just stare at one another, both with dopey smiles on our faces, before I realize it's probably my turn to speak. "Well...thanks. I'm not sure it helped at all though."
"Yeah, I don't know either. I hope so though."
"Me too."
It's then that I remember my mom is waiting for me in the car. I glance up to see her looking right at me.
At me and Noah.
Noah–who is clearly a very dateable guy, and very much off limits.
"Sorry." I say, already moving away from Noah and kind of hating myself for it. "My mom's waiting. I should go."
"Umm, sure. See you at school tomorrow?"
"I'll be there."
When I open the passenger side door and sit back down beside my mom, I know I'm still grinning like an idiot, but I can't seem to make myself stop.
Chapter 12
Sitting alone at the dining room table, my elbow propped against the smooth wood surface, I type the phrase ‘How to fundraise’ into my phone, waiting impatiently for the next screen to load. The results I get back are varied and overwhelming, so I add in the phrase high school to my search.
There's still more options than I can ever possibly get through, so I click on the first article I find and start reading. Rummage sale. Okay, that's an option. I go back and click through to the next piece, and the next, and the next.
My phone beeps out an alarm after what feels like only a few minutes, looking down at the screen proves just how thoroughly I've lost track of time.
There are only fifteen minutes left until midnight. Fifteen minutes left until our sixteenth birthday.
My body aches a little as I stand up, angry with me for having sat in the same position for well over an hour. I'm not even sure I have anything to show for it yet.
All of that will have to wait. First, I need to find my sisters.
For as long as I can remember, each year on our birthday, the four of us have made a point of being together. Reagan and Reilly are usually the ones taking charge, making sure we never miss a year. Honestly, I love our routine just as much as they do. I haven't really had a chance to look forward to it this year, but knowing I'm about to ring in my sixteenth year right alongside my three favorite people is comforting in a way I've never been able to explain to my friends.
There have been a few years where some of my sisters or I have had friends sleepover on the night leading into our birthday, and for the first few years back in Richmond, we'd always get a few raised eyebrows when we'd all disappear right around midnight. Eventually, it just became a part of who we were, something that all of our friends knew to expect.
I hear someone else's alarm go off as I reach the second floor of the house, following the noise into Reagan and Rhiannon's bedroom. Reilly is already squashed in at the base of Rhi's bed, so I pull Reagan's blanket up, eliciting a hiss from my sister while climbing inside. In return, she immediately slips her ice-cold feet up the bottom of my pajama pants in retaliation. Molly is sleeping on the floor in the middle of the room, half on top of an open book. She already looks so much bigger.
"Reagan, why don't you start?” Reilly says from across the room, taking control of our birthday ritual like she always does. "How was fifteen?"
"Busy." Rea answers immediately from beside me. "It was our first year living here again. It feels like we all did a lot, just by trying to figure this place out."
"Oh, come on. Don't be modest.” Rhiannon says with a muffled snort, an uncomfortable sounding laugh that fortunately none of the rest of us share. "You can say it."
"What?" Rea asks in mock innocence.
"You got a boyfriend."
"Kept the boyfriend too." Reagan adds, no longer playing coy.
Reilly, Rhi and I burst into a quick round of applause. I had a few boyfriends last year as well, but since there's no one recent, I don't bother pointing it out.
I'm the first person to admit that Reagan getting a boyfriend is way bigger news. This time last year, I hadn't thought there was any chance at all of it happening. Technically, Reagan is the oldest of us, but she's also usually the least sure of herself too. Or at least she used to be.
It's probably fair to say that Fairview has changed my sister. She's no better or worse, she's definitely different and for the better. She probably took the distance from her friends in Richmond even harder than I did at first, but she's made an awesome group of new friends and she's stepped out of her comfort zone. She even fell in love!
It's all pretty unbelievable.
No, I don’t mean that. It's just… surprising.
It's officially a strange year in the Donovan household when Reagan's love life is the most interesting.
The reality is, that might not actually be true. I found out about halfway through last year that Rhiannon had a secret, older boyfriend back in Richmond that she'd stayed
in touch with after moving, even though she really didn't talk about him to anyone. It was only once she'd sort of run away that we'd realize just how serious she'd been about him, and why she'd been extra miserable ever since we’d moved.
"Well, it's safe to say that I liked Fairview last year.” Reagan says. "I know it was harder for you guys to move away than it was for me, but after a year… what do you think?"
Reilly answers first. "I like it. The people are nice. I kind of like the whole knowing your neighbor rather than ignoring them thing."
"If you'd asked me last week, I would have said I was a fan.” I say, thinking out loud. "What kind of school doesn't have sports?"
"They have sports." Rhiannon points out, "Just not as many of them."
"Not helping.” I grumble.
As always, Reilly has to jump in and point out the bright side. "Mom says you guys will have the chance to raise some money and support the team yourselves."
Yeah, not much of a bright side.
"I don't really want to talk about this right now." Looking down at my phone, we only have two minutes left before our birthday officially starts. "I know another good thing that happened in the last year though."
"Molly.” the four of us say as one. At first I think maybe my sisters are teasing me, but by the sound of it, they're already as in love with our family dog as I was from the first second I saw her.
"Seriously!" Regan adds, "I can't believe we got a dog!”
"I think Dad wanted her." Reilly says, speaking a little more quietly now. "He's here by himself during the day more often than not. So now he has Molly to keep him company. You can tell how much he's loving having her around."
"She's been good for Mom too." I hear Rhiannon sit up in bed a little as she speaks. "They've been walking together every day. Not long distances or anything, but I think as Molly gets bigger, the two of them will keep pushing farther. At least that's what I'm hoping for."
