Page 87 of TJ Powar Has Something to Prove

A beat. Then he takes it. Accepting the truce.

“I was thinking,” he says, peeling the muffin liner away, “about our plan for this side. There’s a hole in it.”

TJ blinks at that, and listens while tapping her pen againsther lips, growing more and more glad she offered him the muffin. She’s first speaker and was going to present the plan. He could’ve held on to this mistake. Could’ve let the other team—two girls from Alberta—poke holes in it, then swoop in as second speaker to clarify everything, making himself look good. And he was going to do it. Right until she extended the olive branch.

A dick move, really. But one she would probably make herself. “So,” she says casually, scratching things out of her speech, “we agree that Mrs. Scott was right yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Charlie shrugs, voice even. “There’s only one way to win. Together.”

The idea chafes against her instincts. Normally, for her to win, Charlie has to lose. That’s been the nature of their relationship for years. But not anymore. She nods, just as the Speaker calls the debate to order.

TJ stands to present. She delivers her speech without a hitch, revising where Charlie suggested, and easily fields a few questions. Then the first speaker from Side Opposition starts, and another point occurs to TJ that she wishes she’d brought up. She scribbles it on a cue card and pushes it to Charlie.

He reads it. Raises his eyes to hers. She meets his gaze squarely, knowing he’s trying to figure out her motive. It’s a good contention—she can’t use it, since her speech is over. He can, though. It’ll give him more points, but it’ll strengthen their team standing.

Finally, he nods. And something between them clicks into place.

It’s the first of many notes they slip each other. Questions,last-minute ideas, and changes to their arguments as their opponents shift the ground under their feet. Half the time, when they stand in unison to ask a question and Charlie gets chosen to speak, he asks the same thing she was thinking. The other half, he asks something that never crossed her mind.

And so, they add another win to their record. And then, in the next round, another.

In their last round of the day, Charlie’s pen runs out of ink; TJ puts hers on the table, and they share that one pen between them, writing notes on the same piece of paper, thoughts running together, for the rest of the debate. They still win it. In fact—TJ suspects it was their strongest showing yet.

∗

Mrs. Scott finds her after lunch, in the quiet lull of the aftermath. Everyone’s still waiting for results, and TJ’s sitting on the stairs with Ameera, who’s telling her some of the drama she overheard from other debaters while volunteering in the break room. Mrs. Scott stops in front of them. “TJ, a word?”

A second word in twenty-four hours? TJ exchanges a look with Ameera and gets up to follow her teacher. “What’s up?”

“Good job,” Mrs. Scott says. Whoa.

“Uh... thanks.”

“Don’t tell anyone this, but I have it on good authority you and Charlie made it into finals.”

TJ stares. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all.” Mrs. Scott seems to enjoy her shock. “We’re not talking bronze here—we’re talking first place.”

TJ leans against the wall, dazed. Mrs. Scott adds, “Thethird-place round will be in an hour. It might be fun to watch. Or rest, if you need to. Yours will be at the banquet.”

“Thebanquet?”

“It’s entertainment for everyone while certificates are printed.” Mrs. Scott’s phone buzzes. She looks down at it and frowns. “Saad’s got a spreadsheet crisis going on in the results room. You’ll have to excuse me.”

As Mrs. Scott starts to walk away, another thought occurs to TJ. She calls after her. “Wait. Who are we up against?”

“Oh, right.” Mrs. Scott half turns around, an afterthought. “A pair from Vancouver, who used to live here. You probably remember them: Jenna and Isaac Turner?”

TWENTY-FOUR

***

“Are you worried?” Yara asks at the banquet. TJ pauses in reapplying her lipstick to shrug.

“No, actually. I’m good.”

“Really?” Yara sits back, doubt lacing her voice. The third-place debate finished two hours ago; the last event of the weekend is taking place here, at a local hotel. TJ, Yara, and a few other Northridgers have taken a table together, waiting for the final resolution to be announced. “Well, good luck anyway.”