Page 96 of TJ Powar Has Something to Prove

She sits down just as Rajan slams his hand on the desk. “That’s time.”

TWENTY-SIX

***

The ballroom is breathlessly silent. The Turners, staring.

TJ’s sweating like she just ran a marathon. She shucks off her blazer and dares to look at Charlie. After all, near the end of that debate, she basically went on a rant. Far from irritation or even surprise, though, his expression is similar to when they first kissed: enraptured, lips parted, and his eyes nearly black.

The Speaker announces the end of the debate, and TJ looks away. It takes ages for the judges to finish their scoring, but eventually, one by one, they hand in their scoresheets to the Speaker. The Speaker takes his time reading them over.

TJ realizes she’s leaning forward in her seat and forces herself to relax. It doesn’t matter if they win, not really. She knows that.

But damn if the competitive streak in her isn’t absolutelykillingher with curiosity.

Finally, the Speaker leans in to his microphone. Pauses. “The judges wish to award this debate to Side Opposition. At this time, if any debaters have complaints regarding rule violations...”

They won.

Her mind goes blank. All eyes are on her and Charlie, looking for a reaction. Neither of them moves a muscle.

“The debaters may cross the floor,” the Speaker says, andright, that’s a thing. TJ reaches for her blazer. It’s chilly now, and her sleeveless blouse has left her arms with goose bumps.

Her veryhairyarms.

She stares at them for a moment, then retracts her hand. She leaves her blazer behind and follows Charlie.

As usual, the Turners remain in their places, waiting for them to cross the floor. This time, TJ doesn’t care. She grasps Jenna’s hand firmly.

Jenna’s eyes flicker down to TJ’s arm and then up. “Congratulations,” she says, voice not quite as peppy as usual. She barely shakes her hand, but TJ finds that she doesn’t care.

Meanwhile, Isaac is talking to Charlie. “Great debate, Charlie. You’ve come a long way. I’m glad they didn’t dock points for your stuttering.”

Charlie gives him a bored look and walks away. TJ grins. Charlie is done giving Isaac any of his energy. She loves that for him.

TJ, however, has plenty of energy to give. She grabs Isaac’s hand and pumps it up and down. “My favourite part of your speech was when you shut up,” she tells him with a smile. “I think you should’ve gotten extra points for that.”

Without waiting for a response, she turns and goes back to where Charlie’s waiting. The two finals teams are directed off the stage, through opposite doors. She and Charlie calmly walk out into the hallway. As soon as they’re out of sight, TJ begins jumping up and down. “Oh my god! Charlie!”

She’s too hyped to care that she’s in his space, hopping around like a little kid. Charlie laughs, a real endeared laugh,like she’s funny; then he catches her mid-jump to hug her, lifting her clean off her feet. She flings her arms around his neck and inhales his Sunday-morning smell, hardly noticing that one of her heels is dangling off her foot.

“I’ve never seen you this happy to win a debate before,” he says against her shoulder.

“It’s not even the debate.” She sighs contentedly and leans back to look at him, nose to nose. He’s a reflection of her joy, for once an open book. “It’s... what I felt, back there.”

“A healthy sense of revenge?”

She snickers. “That’s part of it.” But it was more, too. On that stage, everything had come out, all those conflicting feelings she’s had this year about her appearance. She went from wanting to believe she could still be beautiful this way, to wanting to believe her looks didn’t matter at all. But they do. Of course they do. And it’s strangely freeing to be able to admit that, and still do her own thing.

As Charlie gently sets her back on the floor, she says, “You were right. The fact that I deserve respect isn’t a debate. I don’t have to justify my existence. To anyone.”

Charlie’s eyebrows draw together. “I hope you didn’t take that conversation to heart. I called you pathetic.”

“It’s okay.” She half laughs. “I kind of am.”

“No, you’re not,” he says so strongly that her laughter dies and she has to look at him seriously. “What you went through this year... it would’ve been so easy to give up. But you set out with a goal in mind, and nothing could shake you from it. That’s the furthest thing from pathetic.”

Her cheeks warm at his praise. But she didn’t earn it; hedoesn’t have the whole story. “Plenty of things shook me from it.” She looks away. “You don’t know how many moments of weakness I had.”