Before the Boys Say No Page 7

  Tony winked at me when we came in. I gave him a wink, too--only it was an exaggerated wink. His eyebrows furrowed. He wasn’t sure how to take my response.

  The judge was a professor of the college. In a quiet voice, he relayed a few rules and expectations he held for the debate. Standard stuff. No rudeness, no interruptions, speak clearly. He had his notebook ready; I hoped he could take good notes.

  Tony started out the debate round. He was great--charming, well-spoken. But as I listened to his case, he had so many holes, it might as well be swiss cheese. I would have said that in my opening, too, but the judge didn’t want any rudeness.

  Jared sat very still while I took all the notes. That wouldn’t look good to a judge. When Tony finished speaking, I leaned over and whispered to him to pick up a pen and pretend he was taking notes.

  I stood with my notepad and started exposing the holes with questions. Tony got visibly flustered and finally shook his head. His partner hit him in the leg, but Tony shrugged. He was trapped with no place to hide.

  I finished my questions and sat down. Jared was silently going over the pronunciation of several words he still struggled with. I pulled out a couple of index cards and tape. Carefully, I replaced a couple of index cards with the new ones and scratched some new notes.

  Jared was confused with the new information. He scratched his head with a blank stare when I tried to explain it to him. It didn’t help that Leslie and the Blimp were laughing right in our faces.

  “Don’t look at them,” I ordered Jared. “Just read this in the exact order that I have it. Don’t worry about trying to understand it.”

  Jared nodded and rose to his feet. Some of the safety pins had come loose from the jacket, so one shoulder had started sagging. I had to hide a smile at the pathetic sight beside me.

  Jared’s voice was barely audible as he read the information I had prepared. The judge had a frown on his face the whole time he spoke. Tony and his partner leaned in, desperate to hear clearly. They didn’t want to have to ask for Jared’s notes, I could tell.

  Tony stood up when Jared finished. He looked at his partner, who nodded. “Can we take a look at your arguments?” he asked.

  “No,” Jared said simply.

  Tony didn’t know how to respond. No one ever refused the request for the other team’s notes. “Well, uh, the rules are clear that you have to share--”

  “Well, I don’t know about any rules,” Jared said loudly, “but it seems pretty chicken belly for you to have to look at them. Weren’t you listening? I mean, I wasn’t reading that fast.”

  The room full of kids broke into laughter. The judge looked around the room, unsure of how to proceed. Tony was so embarrassed that he sat down. I hit Jared’s arm and indicated he should give the notes to Tony.

  “My partner says I should help you out,” Jared said and walked over to Tony to hand him the paper.

  Tony’s partner snatched it out of his hands. He was angry. He threw me a dirty look. I smiled sweetly. They had just made themselves look weak and he knew it. They had also lost the time they had to cross examine Jared.

  Tony’s partner stood up to deliver the closing arguments. He deliberately spoke in a very low voice so we couldn’t hear. I scooted my chair closer, all the time taking notes. By the time he finished, his voice was just above a whisper. I’d been forced to move my chair where I was sitting right next to them.

  The judge had just about given up. I stood up and delivered our closing arguments, speaking rapidly to refute every point I could in the allotted time. When the judge called time, I sank into my chair. The room erupted in applause. I looked around to see why they were clapping and realized it was for me.

  Embarrassed, I pushed my chair back to Jared and started gathering up our papers. Jared had a big grin on his face the whole time. As the kids filed out, Tony and his partner came up to congratulate us.

  “You pretty much slaughtered us--single handed,” Tony said with a laugh. He grabbed my hand to shake it, holding it for a long moment. I felt a tingling sensation run up my arm.

  “You were great,” I murmured, pulling my hand from his.

  “Give me your number,” Tony insisted. “I want to keep in touch.”

  “I don’t know,” I stammered. “I really don’t--you know--hang with debaters.”

  “How about I give you my number if you change your mind?”

  Inside, I was screaming. My mom would be screaming. This guy--this cute guy--was interested in a big girl like me. I tried to act cool when he scribbled his number on a piece of paper and handed it to me. I stuck it in one of the file folders and closed the cabinet with a snap.

  We walked together to the large room. Tony talked the whole way. It didn’t seem to matter that I was quiet. Jared kept throwing me glances and raising his eyebrows suggestively. He was such a dork.

  Our team was waiting just inside the door. Mr. Robarb had a big grin on his face. Jared and I were competing in the final round. We had beat out Tony and his partner. The rest of our debate squad just glared at us. Disgruntled, they followed Mr. Robarb into the classroom for the debate. He was forcing them to watch us.

  I told Jared to focus on me. His hands were trembling so bad because the rest of the debate squad was watching us. He stood to grab a file from me when we both heard a rip. The safety pins that held the shoulders in place had been ripped out by his motion. He looked at me with a panic-stricken face. The jacket was ruined. What could we do?

  Then I had a thought. I stood up, fanning myself. “It’s so hot in here. Anyone else hot?”

  “Probably all these bodies crammed in here,” one of the three judges said.

  I pulled off my jacket and motioned for Jared to do the same. “You don’t mind if we debate with our sleeves rolled up, so to speak, do you?”

  The three judges chuckled and nodded. The other team--a guy and a girl--immediately took off their jackets. That put us all on even ground.

  “You’re a genius,” Jared whispered to me when I sat down.

  I had tweaked our argument for the proposition during lunch. It was always good to do that since debaters shared information with each other about the different arguments. I had seen Tony’s partner talking to the girl we were about to debate; giving her the inside scoop on us, no doubt.

  I stood up, cleared my throat, and made sure I had the judges’ attention. Then I started. A full ten minutes of nonstop, fast talking as I laid out my arguments. I stopped only when time was called.

  The guy stood up. He was a little overweight, so his shirt had gotten untucked from his pants near his protruding stomach. He was adept at asking questions. He was also adept at trying to make his opponents look like idiots. I would answer his question and he would screw up his face like I had given the most preposterous response he had ever heard. I kept my cool and even smiled as I answered.

  Then it was the girl’s turn to talk. She must have been given advice from Tony’s partner to speak softly. I strained to hear, but it was impossible.

  “Stop,” one of the judges ordered. “Is it me, or is anyone else having a problem hearing?”

  The girl blushed as everyone nodded in agreement. She was forced to speak louder. They had some solid points, but she didn’t refute all my arguments. I scribbled a couple of questions for Jared to ask.

  He stood up and read the questions. He had no idea what information I was looking for, so he sounded unsure. That was okay. I had the answers from her I needed. Jared had a lot of ground to cover in his speech. I was worried. A lull in the debate brought me the opportunity to talk with him.

  “Jared, you need to speak loud and clear. Got that?”

  He licked his lips nervously. He still had dried mustard in the corner of his mouth. It didn’t look cute.

  “I don’t understand why everyone has to watch us,” he complained.

  “Eyes on the debate, Jared, not on the crowd.”

  He adjusted his silver belt buckle. I gave him a look to stop drawi
ng attention to the thing. He winced. “The buckle’s digging into my skin.”

  “Why did you wear it then?” I whispered.

  “Thought it would be bring me good luck. It’s only rubbing my skin raw.”

  “Listen, Jared. You know how you have to stay on the bull for just a little bit of time before you can jump off?”

  He looked at me and snorted. “Yeah?”

  “Think of the rest of this debate like riding a bull. You just have to hang on, get through the bumps, and then your time is up. The only thing is, I need you to read loud and as fast as you can. You’ve got to ride the fast bull here, Jared.”

  My words seemed to ignite a fire in Jared. He nodded slowly, and for the first time, I saw a look of determination enter his eyes. He stood up and straightened his shoulders. With one hand, he grabbed the paper and held it clenched in front of him like he was hanging on a bull. Then he let loose, reading loud and as fast as he could. He started bouncing up and down as though he was truly riding a bull, twisting and turning as he read. Remarkably, it worked. He covered all the information I had given him to read just in the nick of time.

  The girl stood up to question him. She was shaking her head like she wasn’t sure what had just happened. When she straightened her shoulders, I knew she was getting ready to lay into poor Jared.

  “You’re still on the bull,” I whispered to him.

  Jared gritted his teeth and lowered his head defensively. She fired questions at him and he answered. Oh, he didn’t know what he was saying. He would just grab a section of the argument I had given him and respond. She got really frustrated really fast.

  “Just answer the question,” she insisted after one too many of those responses from Jared.

  “Well,” he drawled, “you’re just not asking the right questions.”

  “And just what are the right questions?” she asked snidely.

  That stumped Jared. He looked over at me. I couldn’t help him. He was on his own. He turned back to the girl and ducked his head for a second before looking up.

  “You’re not asking the right questions for you to win,” he replied. “Beatrice has pretty much demolished you with all her information. No big surprise there. I don’t think anyone spent more time getting ready for this debate tournament than her. Maybe you can ask her for some advice for next time.”

  I didn’t know if I should crawl under the desk or applaud him. The girl wasn’t sure how to respond. She looked back down at her notes and read off another question. Before Jared could answer, the judge called time.

  Jared sat down and let out a long pent-up breath. “That was the longest bull riding I’ve ever done,” he whispered.

  I looked at him with the dried mustard in the corner of his mouth and his hair sticking up from running his fingers through it nervously. Suddenly, I felt really proud of this Aggie who had come into this crazy debate tournament with zero knowledge of it. He had ridden the bull and hadn’t fallen off. Win or lose, Jared was my partner.

  I raised my hand and gave him a high five with a grin. The other team was already there to shake our hands. We politely told them it was a good debate and they sat back down to gather their files.

  I just crammed the information into one of the filing cabinets. I was so tired that I’d have to spend time at home to reorganize everything. Mr. Robarb came up with the rest of the team to check on us. It was standard policy that we didn’t discuss the debate rounds with each other till we were back at school.

  We all walked back to the large room and took seats. Trophies were lined up on a table at the front. It would be a while before the results would be posted. Mr. Robarb made small talk with us as we waited. I was used to the other debaters on my team ignoring me and whispering among themselves. Jared fidgeted next to me. I had to threaten to elbow him again if he didn’t stop.

  Finally, a man appeared at the front of the room. After congratulating each school that participated, the man started calling out teams for the novice division. Three trophies were given for the top three debate teams in that division. The team that won it started jumping up and down. Amateurs. They needed to be coached on keeping their cool.

  I leaned over and whispered strict instructions to Jared to keep calm if we won. He nodded like he understood. I just hoped he didn’t embarrass me.

  The top four teams from the varsity division were called to the front. Jared and I made our way to stand at the end. My heart was beating fast in my chest, but I had practiced how to react to winning so many times in my mirror at home. I stood perfectly still while they called third place. Jared was rubbing his hands together nervously. I wanted to tell him to stop but all eyes were on us.

  There was a dramatic pause as the man was about to announce the winning team in the varsity division. I heard Jared and my name called and smiled. First place. We had really pulled it off. Jared let out a shriek, which made the room erupt in laughter. So much for keeping his cool.

  I accepted the trophy with a gracious thank you and we took our seats. Mr. Robarb was beaming. The other kids--not so much. They cooly congratulated us as the man continued to give out awards for individual debaters. Not surprisingly, my name was called for varsity division, as was Leslie.

  She made it a point to stand away from me at the front of the room. There were about ten of us from different schools who were called to come forward. I usually won, especially if my team won the tournament.

  For third place, Leslie’s name was called. She smiled really big and took her trophy. The guy we had competed against in the final round took second place. And, no big surprise, my name was called for winning the individual debater for the tournament.

  I accepted my trophy and held it up. The other teams were happy for me, even if my own wasn’t. Mr. Robarb stood up to give Leslie and me a standing ovation. Jared joined him, clapping enthusiastically with a silly grin on his face.

  First debate tournament down, but I had my sights set on state at the end of the year. I don’t know how I pulled it off with Jared, but I knew we would have some serious work to do if we expected to win any more tournaments.

  CHAPTER 6

  Debate suits one day and a dirty apron the next. It’s weird feeling like a bit of a celebrity in the high school debate circuit and then facing the reality of work in the restaurant. I had won debate tournaments so many times that it just wasn’t a point of interest for my family any more. Mom just patted me on the back and told me to get salad out to table four.

  I especially disliked dealing with customers after I won. My mind is on cloud nine and then I get an overweight woman complaining about the food. That’s exactly what happened the day after the debate. I stood at the register staring at her tonsils while her big mouth complained loud and clear that her food wasn’t warm when she got it. I definitely wasn’t the person to complain to. Remember, customer service isn’t my thing.

  “Where’s your food?” I asked the woman in the middle of her tirade.

  She stopped and looked at me in surprise. “What do you mean? It’s on the table.”

  “Nope,” I said. “It’s been eaten. By you. If you had a problem with how hot your food was, you should have told Aunt Roma. We would have fixed it for you. Now that you’ve eaten it, you want to complain. Are you trying to get a free meal?”

  The woman’s mouth dropped and her face got red. We’re talking, almost purple. She opened her mouth to go off on me, but just then, Dad came quickly out of the kitchen wearing a face of great sympathy.

  “Mrs. Hodgins,” he intervened. “Did I hear right? Your food wan’t warm enough?”

  “No, it wasn’t and this smart-mouthed girl just insulted me.”

  “Teenagers,” he shrugged. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll tell you what I’d do. Slap that rude attitude right out of her.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but my father threw me the warning look. He never wanted me to try to take care of customer complaints, but Aunt Roma was busy. I tur
ned and was about to go into the kitchen when in walked Brody and a bunch of the popular kids. The guys looked like they had just finished football practice. The girls, well, let’s just say they looked as skinny and beautiful as ever. Lanie, of course, led them into the restaurant.

  It was too late for me to hide in the kitchen. Not that I could anyway. The restaurant was too busy. Aunt Roma needed my help on the floor. I looked helplessly at the group as my father drew Mrs. Hodgins out of the way to smooth her ruffled feathers.

  Brody bounded up to me with a grin. “Hey, Bea. How’s it going?”

  I smiled stiffly and mumbled, “Hi.”

  He could instantly tell that I felt uncomfortable. We hadn’t spent any time together since we had shared pizza that night. He worked a few hours at the restaurant each week, but never during my shift.

  The other guys pushed around the register, yelling out pizza orders. I wrote them down on a pad, scribbling and crossing out as they changed their minds. I looked at Brody with frustration. He whistled and got their attention.

  “Come on guys. Give Bea a break.”

  “Who’s Bea?” one of the football players asked.

  “This is Bea,” Brody said, coming around behind the register to stand next to me. “Let me help out.” He took the pad from me and looked it over. “Let’s do five pizzas with the works. That should cover it.”

  He had solved the pizza dilemma. The jocks turned their attention back on themselves. Brody nudged me softly.

  “You doing okay?” he asked softly.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I had my first debate tournament yesterday.”

  “How’d it go?”

  Before I could answer, Lanie yelled Brody’s name. He sighed and turned toward her. I slipped past him into the kitchen to give Dean the pizza order. My heart was fluttering from standing so close to Brody.

  “Did I hear Brody?” Dean asked me.

  “Yeah. He’s with his popular friends,” I said sarcastically.