45. Chapter 45
Chapter 45
Washington, D.C.
April 2009
E mily had assumed what would happen at the competition: her future self would come back with the answers and save the show. Well, she’d let the others contribute, too—no need to go all in—but she had a way to get herself, or the team, out of a corner.
But when she sat on the stage, the buzzer in front of her on the table, and stared into the darkened auditorium beyond, nothing happened.
Her future self didn’t come back.
At least for now, her teammates were good enough. For the first two rounds, they just had to hit the buzzer before the other team and give the correct answer. Mrs. Spencer congratulated them after each round, and even though the wasp-like buzzing of ‘Miss Willburne’ was absent, Emily’s stomach still clenched. Hopefully, they ascribed that to nerves.
Then came the semi-finals. To the left and right of Emily, and across the stage, swift hands of her teammates and competitors scrambled for the buzzers. “Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, Honduras!” “Nineteen forty-seven!” “Vermont!” In the neck-to-neck match, the answers whizzed past Emily, making her feel like a helpless crawling toddler in the company of professional runners.
“Last question. What is the exact date of the worst space disaster in the previous century?”
“Challenger, in the eighties,” Dani whispered.
“Yeah, but what’s the date?”
“Uh—‘87, no, ‘86?”
“There were a bunch of eights, I know—”
Suddenly, all eyes turned to Emily. She stuttered. The current result flickered on the board. Only one point ahead. Come on, come on, come back! “I—I—”
Buzz. “January 28, 1986!”
“Co-rrect,” the judge proclaimed. “Pittsburgh is awarded one point. At the end of the round, the result is a draw. Reconvene in five minutes for the decider.”
“I told you it was ‘86,” Michael said as the sound of screeching chairs filled the room. They headed for the exit.
Mrs. Spencer waited for them. “We don’t have much time. You’ve done well. Does anyone have a wish for the Sudden Death?”
Emily gulped. Between the rest, glances were exchanged. Michael looked slightly green, but Debbie had that eager-but-don’t-want-to-expose-myself look on her face.
“Emily should go,” Lilianne said. “She was the best at it when we practiced.”
“She hasn’t answered a single question today,” Michael said.
“No, no, I couldn’t,” Emily said. “I’m too nervous, with all these people…”
“But this will be just you and a member of the opposite team. And it doesn’t matter if they’re faster, as long as your answer is also correct.”
Emily wrung her fingers. It couldn’t work. For some reason, she wasn’t coming back, and all the hopes they’d laid into her…
“You should go,” Debbie said, giving her a small smile. “You were the best at practice.”
“No.” Emily shook her head.
“And with you, we’ll win.” Debbie shrugged.
No. They won’t. “You should go. Please,” Emily said to her sister.
“But you—“
The coordinator waved to Mrs. Spencer from the stage. “One minute,” the teacher said. “Miss Willburne, you’re going?”
“Yes,” Lilianne and Debbie said in unison. “You can do it,” Lilianne added.
Debbie reached for her arm, her big brown eyes full of confidence and trust. She’d wanted this, needed this, put everything into this—and now she was going to let Emily—
“No.” Emily jumped away. “I can’t. I…” She took in the faces of her teammates and Mrs. Spencer. “I won’t know the answers. I cheated to get here.”
The chatting in the background quieted, the people blurred. It was only her and the team, and the absolute shock. Michael dropped his jaw. Lilianne slowly shook her head.
“I didn’t pass the test. Not on my own.” Every word felt like she had to force it out through gurgling water.
They all looked so disappointed. And worst of all, Debbie, with her mouth frozen in an ‘O’, and a tear glistening at the corner of her eye.
“I’m sorry,” Emily said. “But I couldn’t let you…”
“Miss Willburne.” Mrs. Spencer shook her head and turned to Debbie. “The other Miss Willburne. Please go and take your place for Sudden Death. Ortillo, Guynes, check the brochures over there and get yourselves a snack, would you?”
She turned back to Emily as the others scattered. “Miss Willburne.” The all-familiar ‘z’ crept back into those syllables. “You are aware cheating, especially on this scale, is a serious offense.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Emily’s throat constricted.
“I…” The teacher pushed up her glasses and blinked rapidly.
She’s disappointed in me. Emily would’ve never thought she’d be sad about that.
“I will not disclose your behavior to the Competition Committee,” Mrs. Spencer finally said. “Since the other three had done nothing wrong and so far, you hadn’t contributed to our results here. However, there will be reprimands.”
“I understand.” And as she caught sight of Debbie, partially hidden from her with the curtain, rapidly scribbling as the Sudden Death began, Emily really did understand.
Will was scheduled to come around later that day, as the others would be outside, in a museum, and they’d run through the plan one last time. At least with what she’d done, Emily didn’t need an excuse to stay at the hotel; Mrs. Spencer grounded her as the first phase of her punishment.
She was sitting by the window in the room she shared with Debbie, leaning her chin on the window shelf, when the door opened.
“Thought I’d find you here,” Debbie said.
Emily didn’t bother to move, only looked sideways. “You’re surprisingly non-hostile. Did you—”
“I lost.” Debbie plopped on the bed. “Genghis Khan got me. But then, so did most of Asia, right?”
Emily stayed silent.
“Yeah… I forgot you didn’t really know anything all this time.” Debbie’s tone grew sharper. “What I don’t get—well, there’s a lot I don’t get—but mostly, why? Why would you do it?”
How could she ever explain that? Only Dad could come close to understanding, and even he probably wouldn’t be happy with her plans.
“Well?” Debbie prompted.
She didn’t want to lie. But she also owed her something. “I wanted to come to DC. It was because of a boy.”
“A boy?” Debbie repeated, as if she didn’t know what that was. Then her eyes widened. “Michael? Did you get on the team because of Michael?”
No lying… but then, Debbie did come to that conclusion herself. “Just don’t say any of this to anyone, okay?”
Debbie tugged on the bedsheet. “I guess we all got our priorities.”
“I’m sorry I ruined yours.”
“What, the competition?” Debbie waved her hand. “So I lost. But at least I got to participate, right? And if I repeat it the next year, that will go a long way toward commitment. And college applications—”
“Do love a commitment,” Emily finished.
Debbie smiled, then reached down for her bag to start packing it. “Besides…” She flipped through a brochure. “I can’t blame you for wanting to appear as cool as we nerds are.” She waited for a few seconds, and both of them burst into a laugh.
“What did Mrs. Spencer do?” Debbie asked.
“I’ll fail History this year. It’s going to be one fun summer to make it up.”
“Sorry.”
“I’ll be fine.” Emily crossed over to her bed. “But… could I ask you for one last favor?”
“Theoretically, there were no favors prior to this one, but go ahead.”
“Mrs. Spencer won’t allow me to do any sightseeing with you. So tomorrow, I’ll have to stay in the hotel until we leave. But I really wanted to see the Petersen House. You know, where Lincoln died?”
“Of course I know.” Debbie tossed her hair over her shoulder. “The question is, why do you suddenly care about history?”
Remember, no lying. “History or not, I’m a big fan of Lincoln. I feel like we’re… connected.”
“It’s a popular destination. There’ll be lines, so if you want to get in and back here before we return, you’ll have to go pretty early,” Debbie said. She dug through her bag and spread out a map of the subway. “But I’m sure we can figure it out. I can cover for you if Mrs. Spencer checks on you before we leave. Then you’ll just have to make sure you catch the train no later as—”
Emily jumped off the bed and hugged her. “Thanks. You know you’re awesome, right?”
“Well…” Debbie blushed a little. “Let me get back to planning, yeah? This is sightseeing we’re talking about. It’s important.”