And round after round, she rallied with killer rebuttals and more composure than I’d ever seen from her. I was glad I didn’t have to compete against her. Gigi was a force.
Gigi organized the notes she’d been taking that highlighted the other team’s last rebuttal points. I handed her my counterarguments for review and she scanned through them quickly, starring the ones she felt were the strongest. This was our last chance to make an impression on the judges.
As we’d planned, she opened with a systematic dismantling of the argument our opponents had just made.
“The decriminalization of marijuana at a federal level should be a national priority, despite what our esteemed opponents have stated. The numbers don’t lie. The majority of those incarcerated on drug offenses are persons of color from a lower socioeconomic background. Keeping laws in place that are known to adversely affect specific minorities at a higher ratio is wrong.
“According to a study cited in an article from HuffPost last July, the number of persons detained pretrial for small drug offenses at any given time in the United States is in the tens of thousands. Pretrial means that these people do not have the means to post bail, compounding the economic imbalance and putting additional strain on the households who rely on the financial support of these family members.”
Gigi turned to me, eyes wide with surprise at her own performance. She’d just handed the two guys across the stage their asses, and from their shocked expressions, they knew it. I couldn’t help the smile that stretched the limits of my face. I recovered quickly, glanced at my notes, and picked up where Gigi left off.
“In Colorado, we’ve seen the marijuana industry flourish under decriminalization. The funds raised from taxes on recreational marijuana have gone to support substance-abuse programs and to provide more affordable housing. Other countries have also decriminalized low-level possession of illegal drugs, such as Portugal, which made the move in 2001. Together with learnings at the local level from states like Colorado, and opportunities to leverage practices from the international community, we feel that the US could successfully decriminalize within three years and instead focus on providing more accessible treatment options for those struggling with addiction.”
I sat back, taking a deep breath as our opponents fumbled through their stack of notes. I slyly held my hand out to Gigi under the table and she slapped her palm into mine. The adrenaline firing through me was a different sort of thrill from my Red Court work, but seeing Gigi’s confidence grow with every round was a reward itself.
It occurred to me that Gigi would make one hell of a Red Court member. The thought put a knot in my stomach, and not just because I hoped Gigi would never get involved in the kind of work we did. She could easily be the next Queen of Hearts, too. I needed to stop thinking in terms of who the next leader of the Red Court would be. If all went as planned, there’d never be another Queen of Hearts again.
* * *
I fought my way through the main hall the following Monday in an attempt to make it to the third floor for Lit on time. Unless the crowd magically disappeared, I was going to be late.
“Hey, Ember!”
I turned to see Chase lope toward me, long legs striding easily. It was stunning to watch the sea of students part before him like he was freaking Moses. Popularity probably had other perks, but what I wouldn’t give to be able to move so effortlessly between classes. Being a petite underclassman made getting swept away like a twig caught in the current all too easy.
“Hi!” I worked to keep the wary edge from my voice. I’d already been busted with Chase twice before. There were a lot of eyes trailing him, making another scolding from Haley almost inevitable. Plus, my put-up-with-Chase’s-nonsense meter hadn’t climbed back down from nuclear threat levels after he struck with his origami heart.
Chase arrived at my side with a wide, easy grin. “How are you?”
“Good. How are you?”
See? I could be normal and polite, unaffected even.
But when Chase looked at me, it was like his whole self was attuned to my every move. His gaze wove invisible threads binding us together, if only for the moment. My theoretical pacemaker was probably firing up in preparation for cardiac arrest. Being with Chase was a sharp, exquisite exercise in being alive.
“I bet you’re better than good. I heard that you took first at your last debate meet. Congrats!”
Despite my best effort to quell it, a blush crept up my neck and flushed my cheeks. Gigi and I took first; our impromptu duo shredded the competition in the finals. I’d never been more proud to share the stage with anyone.
“Thank you. People think debate is all BS, but there is a lot of work that goes into it.”
Chase smiled. “I don’t think you’re even capable of BS. When would you find the time?”
A barking laugh escaped my mouth, something between a laugh and a cough. In other words, not cute. My blush deepened, and I thought I might as well go ahead and die here. No time like the present.
“How about you? Do anything interesting this weekend?” I surprised myself with genuine curiosity. What did Chase fill his hours with when he wasn’t plotting against me as my nemesis?
My shoulder collided with his as we bobbed along the corridor. The brief contact sent a jolting thrill through me. I quickly dismissed it as the temptation of forbidden fruit. Chase was off-limits; therefore, it was only natural to be curious about what I couldn’t have. Could I have him? He’d asked me out, but who knew what might have come from that. Probably nothing. For sure nothing.
“I’ve been really busy. My mom’s been traveling for work, so I’ve been on babysitter duty with my sisters.”
Chase grinned self-consciously. Any boy who went through the trouble to win six teddy bears for his sisters had to be the best manny. My own bear held a spot of honor on my nightstand. I could just picture him at high tea with a flower hat. Chase’s sweet sincerity was a departure from our normal games, and it knocked me off my axis. No one was who I expected them to be anymore.
The warning bell rang, reminding me that we had to hustle up to the third floor for class.
“We better get moving. Can’t risk my perfect attendance record.”
Chase stopped me at the base of the stairs, kids parting around us like we were boulders in a stream, and looked at me. “Can I ask you something?”
I looked up the staircase, knowing we were going to have to sprint to make it in time. “Umm, yeah?”
When I turned back to him, I noticed the soft look in his eyes. No one had ever looked at me like that. Nerves struck me like the caffeine aftershocks of a double espresso, leaving me jittery.
Why did this handsome, funny guy make me feel like this? Oh, right. He was handsome and funny. Duh, Ember.