Chapter Thirteen #2
“The way the points are broken down, the only thing we have to win is the projects piece,” Bodhi reminds her as he takes a seat opposite her at the table. “The rest is just for fun. Or academic enrichment or whatever these fellowship people want to call it.”
The truth of his words rings loud in my ears. In the end, it all comes down to our projects, and in my case, I still have nothing but blank pages and whistling emptiness in my brain.
“All the same,” Amalia says, primly rearranging the notebooks in front of her, “I’d like to win.”
I tear myself away from the window and join them at the table. At the very least, this is my chance to prove that I can hang with the upperclassmen. Be their academic equal.
Of course, the next few hours prove the exact opposite.
Amalia, the undisputed group leader, assigns us all reading.
Bodhi and Amalia soon have pages of notes filled with meticulous points about how heroic Odysseus is.
I have half a page, most of it phrased somewhat sarcastically.
I belong on the other team, where they’re no doubt roasting him for how much he cheats on his wife over the course of his journey or how he is the only one of his crew who survives.
Go down with the ship, Odysseus does not.
“But he also does more to save them than anyone else,” I add when Amalia vocalizes this same thought. “Takes more risks, comes up with more escape ideas.”
“That’s a good point.” Amalia nods. “Okay, you’re in charge of rebuttals.”
The responsibility of this sends the brain gremlin ablaze, but I do my best to breathe through its tap dance and focus on how I can shoot down any point the opposition might bring to the table.
The three of us barely notice when the sunset turns the world gold or when the light outside recedes entirely into a summer night, until Ms. Barlowe taps on our conference-room door.
“We’re ready for you,” she calls.
Bodhi and I exchange nervous looks as Amalia bounces out the door. It’s a relief to know he’s as trepidatious about this as I am. Not that I’d wish anxiety on anyone, but knowing I’m not alone makes following him back to the lobby a little easier.
Ms. Barlowe gathers us all in another conference room.
This one has a tourist-oriented ocean theme, complete with blue-striped walls and large curled seashells glued down to the thick wooden shelves nailed in floating patterns to the wall.
The other team is already gathered on one side of the table, so I slide into a seat next to Bodhi on the other side.
I fiddle with my pages of notes, hoping to possess some of the quiet self-assuredness Amalia is projecting right now.
I’m sure I look more like a nervous third grader playing with the class fidget box.
Ms. Galanis and Ms. Barlowe settle in the front of the room, their now-familiar clipboards propped in front of them, thin wooden reminders that we’re being judged on our performance here.
That the fellowship will hear about how we do.
That, even in a small way, five thousand dollars of life-changing money hang in the balance.
Amalia delivers our opening statement, and I’m impressed with her improv skills.
Part of the challenge is that we weren’t given much time to prepare, but she delivers our hastily scrawled statement with all the poise and grace of someone who’s had weeks to rehearse.
Bodhi and I applaud when she finishes, and she shoots us a quick smile that eases the usually tight lines of her face.
George introduces the other team’s arguments, and he and Amalia exchange tense looks as they trade places at the front of the room, behind the chair that’s serving as our podium.
As George talks, I try to catch Liam’s eye, but he’s focused on the papers in front of him, mouthing the words he’ll soon be reciting for the group.
Even though he’s sitting opposite me, I quietly wish him good luck when it’s his turn to stand.
But then he starts talking, and my heart sinks.
The focus of his speech is on the fate of the crew, and he talks at length about how Odysseus let the members of his team down—literally to the underworld.
Amalia elbows me in the arm, shooting me a sly grin. I give her a panicked look back.
“You got this,” she mouths, the corners of her lips curved into a killer smile.
And under her supportive but watchful gaze, I have no choice but to stand up with my rebuttal statement neatly handwritten in front of me.
“It’s easy to judge the outcomes without considering the weight of the danger that all these men knowingly signed up for,” I begin, my voice shaky as Liam returns to his seat.
“But even with that danger, Odysseus took on more than any other in his efforts to keep not just himself but the group alive and well on their journey home.”
I keep talking, my voice ramping up in speed and pitch as my nerves get the better of me.
I’m not winning any points for presentation, but I catch Ms. Barlowe smiling and nodding as she scribbles onto her clipboard, and Ms. Galanis eyes me with admiration as I careen into my closing arguments.
When I finish, I don’t dare meet Liam’s eye.
“That was very well-done from all of you,” Ms. Barlowe says, rising when Lucy finishes her team’s closing arguments. “We’re very impressed with how well you did, especially given the short prep time you had. Congratulations to all. Our winners are Amalia, Bodhi, and Natalie.”
I can’t help the sharp intake of breath that gasps through my lips. I won something?
Granted, this was a team event, so the credit can’t fall squarely on my shoulders, but I can’t deny, as Amalia wraps her arms around my shoulders in a celebratory hug, that it feels good to be acknowledged for something.
Until I turn to the opposite side of the table and catch the disappointment in Liam’s eyes. I know it’s ridiculous to feel guilty for winning, but today was supposed to be about making things right with him.
Instead, I’ve managed to dig the hole a little deeper.