Page 36 of TJ Powar Has Something to Prove

Her mouth goes dry. The clock ticks loudly behind her.

There’s a cough from the other side of the floor. She immediately puts her cue cards back on the desk and turns to flip through her notebook with shaking fingers. Where did the cards for her Side Opposition speech go? They’re not here. Normally, she’d be able to recite her speech by heart, but her mind is blank right now.

A painful ten seconds tick by before she gives up and turns back around. The judges’ faces are masks, but she already knows she’s screwed up this debate beyond redemption.

She takes a deep breath. Behind her, Simran is sorting through her bag as if TJ’s cards might’ve accidentally fallen in there. Determination fills her. She can at least try to give Simran something to work with for her own scores.

So she just starts talking again. “I’ll begin with a rebuttal of the flaws in the Proposition’s case,” she says, like nothing happened, and launches into it.

Once she gets into the rhythm of talking, parts of her speech come back to her. She has to leave out plenty of statistics and evidence because she can’t remember the source or exact numbers, which the Turners might pounce on. But the more she talks, the more confident she gets, and the more of her power returns, her ability to transfix a room, an ability that’s gotten her through so many debates.

Jenna stands for a question midway through. TJ waves her down, as she’s in the middle of a lengthy anecdote. From the corner of her eye, she watches Jenna scribble her question down for her brother instead. Isaac stands a minute later.

There’s a gleam in his eye. TJ sighs inwardly. If she ignores them, she’ll be docked points for not allowing questions. “Yes?”

“Honourable Speaker, we’re just a little confused by Side Opposition’s case,” Isaac tells the Speaker in a puzzled voice. “Right now, she’s talking about the potential for the bill to pave the way for ‘designer babies.’ But at the beginning of her speech, she herself said it’s just fearmongering blocking progress. She herself said that other countries are already doing genome editing, so we should, too, or we risk falling behind and letting other countries form the ethical standards. So which is it?”

TJ gapes. That was from her Side Proposition speech—or at least, the bit of it that she said before realizing.

This is a low blow—everyone alreadyknowsTJ messed up at the start. Any classy debater would’ve ignored the mishap and let the judges dock the points for themselves. But Isaac went there anyway.

This just got personal.

And how can she possibly respond? She can’t just say,Sorry, folks, I accidentally started on the wrong speech, ha ha, funny, right? That’s like breaking the fourth wall of debating.

“Honourable Speaker,” she begins, then pauses to think. “Clearly Side Proposition misunderstood. As my partner and I have emphasized throughout this debate, this isn’t fearmongering, it’s a real concern. As I was saying...”

It’s a pitiful sidestep, but it’s enough to let her jump right back into her speech. She finishes with fifteen seconds left on the clock and sits. It’s totally silent as the Speaker announces the end of the debate. The judges scribble away on their scorecards. TJ stares at her hands, replaying the last seven minutes in her head.

All in all, it was a respectable comeback. But she could’ve delivered the best speech in the world after what just happened, and it wouldn’t matter. She made too big of a mistake. Her shot at Nationals is gone.

The thought slams into her chest and sinks lower, dragging her down. She could kick herself. And Simran—did TJ hurt her chances, too? Technically, they’re marked individually, but a poor performance from your partner can definitely affect your scores.

TJ glances at Simran for the first time since her mistake. Her gut twists. Simran’s staring off into space with a stormy expression. She’smad? TJ’s never seen her mad. But she can’t blame her. Simran has the right to be furious. TJ just lost them this debate and made them both look like amateurs. And to the Turners, no less.

She scribbles in her open notebook:I’m sorry.Then pushes it over to Simran.

Simran glances at the note and her expression clears. She pulls the notebook towards herself.

Don’t worry. It’s OK.

Somehow that just makes TJ feel worse. And confused. At least until Simran keeps writing.

That was SUCH a cheap shot from Isaac. The judges have GOT to dock them for that.

Simran underlines the last bit several times, leaving no uncertainty about who she’s really mad at. Then she draws a smiley face, as if to give her hope. TJ smiles weakly. Even if the judges agree with Simran, they’re still not winning this one.

And sure enough, when the Speaker collects the scoresheets, he glances down and then in TJ’s direction with something of a pitying look before announcing, “The judges wish to award this debate to Side Proposition. At this time, if any debaters have complaints regarding rule violations...”

∗

It’s close to seven in the evening by the time they get back to the busy front foyer of the school, where swarms of debaters have gathered to debrief. Relief and exhilaration mixed with nervousness for tomorrow is nearly palpable in the air. TJ is numb to it, even as they join a group of Southern Interior debaters. Yara’s partner is grinning ear to ear because, as she tells Charlie, their team won their debate by a landslide. Ameera and Saad are laughing their asses off about their loss at the hands of one of the best teams in the country. TJ would bet neither of them started with the wrong speech, though.

“Okay, but how did it go for you two?” Ameera says once she’s done wheezing, wiping a tear from her eye. “Won? Lost?”

A long beat. TJ pretends to be absorbed in her phone. Simran glances at her before replying. “Lost.”

Ameera looks between them, but shrugs. “Oh well. Individual scores are all that matter for Nationals anyway.”