Page 23 of TJ Powar Has Something to Prove

TJ sneers at him. “Kind of like how no one realized your parents were related, Charlie.”

Nate guffaws and Charlie laughs, too, which makes it far less satisfying. Simran presses her lips together. TJ can’t tell if she’s suppressing amusement or disapproval.

Mrs. Scott finally slams down the phone. “Good grief, admin is irritating me and it’s not even an hour into the first workday. Are you all here? Good. Who has speeches for Provincials ready?”

Awkward. TJ’s only made a half-assed start on those, despitethe promises she’d made herself at the beginning of Break. No one else raises their hand, either. Mrs. Scott arches an eyebrow.

“That’s what I thought. You all could stand to learn something from the novice debaters. I’m toldfourof the six of them already have rough speeches written out.”

“Because they’re scared shitless,” Nate mutters, and everyone grins. Mrs. Scott hears him, though.

“Pride goeth before the fall, Nathaniel. Now, let’s do some impromptu practice. Three of you per side.” She strides to the board and writesTHBT traditional universities will be replaced with online learning. “You have twenty minutes to prepare. And split up from your partners. Might give you some perspective.” She marks an imaginary line down the middle of the room, effectively making TJ, Saad, and Charlie into one group and Simran, Ameera, and Nate the other.

“Which side are we arguing for?” Saad asks. Mrs. Scott waves a dismissive hand.

“Rock-paper-scissors for it.”

Saad and Ameera eye each other like it’s a Western movie showdown. Ameera puts down her Cheetos. Saad cracks his knuckles. TJ has no intention of getting in between this sibling rivalry, so she goes to find an empty classroom to take over for brainstorming. Charlie follows.

The neighbouring classroom is empty, so she dumps her bag on the floor and drops into a chair. Charlie does the same. Through the wall she hears Ameera complaining in muffled tones that Saad cheated.

TJ and Charlie stare at each other for a long moment.Charlie’s “debate practice at seven, executive meeting at eight” look is in full swing today, with a navy crew neck sweater, the pale-pink collar of a dress shirt peeking from beneath it. Nerd.

She can’t help but think about the last time she saw him—when he threw away that slip of paper. TJ gets why; he and Simran are friends. But would he have done TJ the same courtesy?

Without breaking her stare, Charlie plucks a pen from his pocket and clicks it. It reminds TJ of someone flipping the safety off a gun. “Well? What do you think?”

Right. They’re on the same side. In previous interschool debate practices, she’s never been teammates with him. This will probably be a disaster. She tries for civility anyway. “We might as well brainstorm for both sides while we’re waiting for Saad. Any ideas?”

He crosses one corduroy-pant-clad leg over his knee. TJ feels like he’s just trying to show off his suede shoes. “What, does Simran usually write your speeches, too?”

Great. That civility lasted about two seconds. TJ smiles sweetly. “Jealous? We all know Nate doesn’t bother. He just feeds you lines.”

“You don’t mess with what works.”

Saad walks in at that moment, looking smug. “We got Side Opposition. Screw online learning, status quo for the win.”

Charlie glances at the clock and seems to sober up. “All right. Stakeholders.” He flips his legal notepad to a fresh page. TJ nods. Figuring out who’s affected in any resolution is always a good starting place.

The three of them brainstorm stakeholders quickly—students, professors, researchers who get university funding, taxpayers... the list goes on. Over the next fifteen minutes, they split their contentions. TJ will handle the economic effects and quality of education for students. Charlie will do the philosophical pondering about the significance of the institution and the loss of research opportunities. Saad will wrap up with the rebuttal speech.

By the time Mrs. Scott pops her head into the classroom to bring them back, they’ve got a fairly solid case. As they stand, Charlie grabs TJ’s hand. “You’re bleeding.”

She looks down. There’s a paper cut on her first knuckle, welling with blood. It must have happened while flipping pages back and forth in her notebook.

“You should get a Band-Aid.” His thumb swipes over her unscathed knuckles, almost thoughtlessly. The tickling sensation of it makes her breath catch.

There’shairon her knuckles.

Mortified, she yanks her hand out of his grasp. She waits with dread. The comment, or the smirk. Either one will make her die a fiery death.

But Charlie doesn’t seem to notice. He picks up his notepad, now speckled with a few spots of red. “Your blood is all over my speech. Symbolism?”

“Definitely not.” She brings her knuckle to her mouth and sucks on the cut, relieved he didn’t notice. Just as she’s thinking that, his eyes drop to her mouth. She lowers her hand quickly.

He gives her an indecipherable look and follows Saad outof the room. She wants to smack herself. Twenty minutes into the first day of school since making her resolution, and she’s already wavering. But did Charlie Rosencrantzhaveto be her first test? That’s just unfair.

Yet, despite his talent for weaponizing her weaknesses, he hasn’t noticed her hair. She’s certain he would’ve said something, or implied it, if he had. He’s never held back before.