Drawn

  Erik whispered in my ear. “It was Mandy and Joseph.”

  “Huh?”

  “Last night. In the pool. All over each other.”

  Joseph. One of the Ballard guys. I’m such an idiot.

  “Man, J.B.,” Erik said. “If looks could kill, Damon would be a smoking grease spot on the floor right now.”

  I looked up at Erik.

  “I hope you never get that mad at me.”

  Big breath. Blow it out. Find some courage.

  I turned to Damon and focused on his chin.

  He turned his palms up. “What did I do?”

  Inhale. Exhale. Look at his nose.

  “I thought you and Mandy…”

  “What? Mandy? Why?”

  “She had your shirt this morning.” I twisted my fingers. “I just figured.”

  He looked away and shook his head. Then he turned in his seat and stared down at me. “Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why would you think that about me?”

  I wanted to slide under my chair and slink away.

  “Really, Julie. Don’t you know me better than that yet?”

  “I’m sorry.” My throat started to squeeze shut and my vision went glassy.

  He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

  I blew it. This amazing guy, for some incomprehensible reason, liked me. And I ruined it.

  Of course I did. That’s me.

  Damon’s leg bounced up and down like someone stuffed it with Mexican jumping beans. “And I was going to apologize to you this morning.”

  I blinked several times to use up the tears. “For what?”

  “For telling everyone you were my girlfriend last night,” he muttered.

  My heart thudded into my stomach and a new kind of sick swirled up. He changed his mind.

  Of course he did.

  He’s never going to kiss me. Not now, not ever.

  I’ll probably never get kissed, for my entire life, and I will die a lonely, dried-up old hag whose lips never touched anything but the side of her own stupid fist.

  He scratched his nose. “I never actually asked you if that was okay.”

  If that was okay?

  “I should’ve asked you first.”

  “Asked me what?”

  He looked over at me like I’d grown an extra head or something. “If it’s okay to say you’re my girlfriend.”

  I looked away, then back at him. Then down at my hands.

  “So.” He shrugged and shook his head. “Is it okay?”

  “This is very weird.”

  “Yeah. This is going really well.”

  Is he asking me if it’s okay to ask me to go with him?

  I always thought this would be more like getting proposed to. Him down on one knee in a rowboat under a canopy of wisteria, professing eternal love, with flowers and a ring. Me with long, wavy hair and wearing something gauzy and pink, ribbons fluttering in the breeze. And on the shore a single violinist would play Pachelbel’s Canon in D.

  But here we sat in the front row of the Academic Olympics finals in our goofy, matching team shirts, sleep-deprived and still kind of mad at each other.

  And he wants to know if it’s okay to call me his girlfriend?

  “Yeah, it’s okay.” My armpits started to drip and I coughed to get this mass of warm mucus out of my throat. “It’s very okay.”

  He turned on one of his Damon dimple smiles. “So if anyone asks, you’re going to call me your boyfriend?”

  “Maybe.” I couldn’t look any higher than his chin again, and I bit in the insides of both my upper and lower lips. “If you quit being so cheesy.”

  “What’s wrong with cheesy?”

  I turned away before I said something stupid and ruined it again.

  “Hey!” Kim squealed. “Damon and Juliet are going together!”

  “Woot! Woot!” Erik hooted.

  Mia gave me a thumb’s up.

  Lucas’s cheeks dropped.

  “Eavesdropper,” I said to Kim.

  “Hey. You guys are better than a soap opera.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Five judges sat behind the long table on stage. One read the rules of the finals tournament.

  Each of the four regional winners would compete against each other, for a total of six matches. The two schools with the most cumulative points from those matches would face off in the championship after lunch.

  The head judge called the first two schools to the table: us and Winger Middle School.

  I hadn’t tried another piece of Kitty’s gum. But with all the morning’s drama I’d skipped breakfast and now a tight ache pounded the base of my skull. I grabbed my bag and reached into the zippered compartment. Then Hirsch yelled at me, and I dropped the bag upside down.

  “Leave your things,” he whispered. “Get up there.”

  Stuff scattered everywhere. I scooped everything back in, relieved I’d forgotten to restock the girls-only stuff, and stashed my bag under my chair again.

  We followed Erik onto the stage. My knees shook.

  “Don’t pass out on me,” Damon whispered.

  I looked out at the auditorium. The spots and footlights blinded me.

  He squeezed my hand. “There’s nobody out there.”

  Besides our buzzers, we also had microphones in front of us this time. We barely sat down and greeted the other team before the questions started.

  “At greater than six miles to the bottom, this is the deepest known area of the ocean.”

  “The Marianas Trench.”

  “Name three territories of the United States.”

  “Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, Guam.”

  “Neil Armstrong was the first man to set foot on the moon. Who was the second?”

  “Buzz Aldrin.”

  Before anyone from our team had even touched a buzzer, Winger scored eight points. I glanced over toward Hirsch, but couldn’t see him because of all the lights.

  I reached up to push a loose lock of hair off my forehead. A bead of sweat welled up in my hairline.

  “This fish was thought to have been extinct since the cretaceous period, until a fisherman in South Africa caught one in 1938.”

  “The coelacanth.”

  “On what continent is the country of Tajikistan?”

  “Europe.”

  “I’m sorry, that is incorrect. Does Parnell have an answer?”

  Finally, after twelve points, Winger missed one.

  Lucas slapped his buzzer. “Asia.”

  “Point to Parnell.”

  Finally, we got one. I leaned forward and flexed my hand.

  “This animal is the only marsupial indigenous to North America.”

  I smacked my buzzer and almost yelled, “Kangaroo!” Instead, I froze.

  “Parnell?”

  I know this. What is it?

  “Parnell, you have five seconds to give an answer or you forfeit the point to Winger.”

  What is it called? My brain felt like a dusty attic no one had visited in a hundred years.

  “…three, two…”

  “An opossum.”

  “That is correct.”

  Damon and Mia both buzzed in on several questions, but Winger beat them to it almost every time. I scored three more, then Erik got a couple.

  By the end of the match we’d lost twenty to thirty.

  * * * * *

  Prairie Hill and Northgate went up against each other next. Both tough teams, they grappled for every point. After a long match Northgate won thirty to twenty-eight and I bit several of my fingernails to the quick.

  I looked over at Damon. He leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out. Asleep.

  On the other side of him, Kim slumped onto Lucas’s shoulder. Lucas’s head hung over the back of his seat. Mia’s chin tucked into her chest.

  I checked Erik. Same thing.

  As the applause for Northgate died down Lucas snorted so loud that even the judge
s looked over at us.

  One leaned into the microphone. “I have never before seen a team of finalists looking so relaxed.”

  Hirsch smacked the backs of everyone’s heads. “Get up there! You’ve got Prairie Hill next.”

  Down by sixteen overall, we had to make up the points we’d lost against Winger.

  “Doric, Ionic and Corinthian describe different types of what architectural feature?”

  I banged my palm on my buzzer. “Columns.”

  The audience cheered, and I heard Hirsch whoop. We got the first point of the game.

  “What word describes the two days of the year when day and night are of nearly equal length?”

  Mia buzzed. “Solstice.”

  “I’m sorry, that is incorrect.”

  A Prairie Hill boy buzzed in. “Equinox.”

  “Point to Prairie Hill.”

  I glared at Mia.

  “Sorry,” she mouthed and rolled her eyes.

  “In what year did the Normans invade and conquer England?”

  “1066.” Prairie Hill took another one.

  Lucas yawned. Big and loud, full of throat. All five of the judges looked at him, then at each other.

  “Name the first three countries to comprise the so-called Axis powers of World War II.”

  Two people on the other team buzzed in. Not one on ours. Mrs. Larch taught us this, and I knew I copied it off the blackboard sometime last year. But I couldn’t remember even one country.

  “Germany, Japan and Italy.”

  “These types of trees lose their leaves each winter and grow new ones in the spring.”

  I know this. What is the word?

  “Deciduous.” Prairie Hill got it.

  We’re going to lose if we don’t start getting some of these!

  “This is the pollen-producing reproductive organ of a flower.”

  Mia hit her buzzer just ahead of a girl from the other team. “The stamen.”

  Yes! We got one!

  “In art as well as other fields, this term describes the apparent line that separates the earth from the sky.”

  I got it first. “The horizon.”

  “Point to Parnell. Next question. This phrase describes the collective name of the first ten amendments to the United States Constitution.”

  Erik beat Prairie Hill to the buzzer. “The Bill of Rights.”

  “Atomic number 18, this colorless, odorless and inert Noble gas is used in light bulbs and insulation.”

  Damon got to his buzzer faster than two of the Prairie Hill team. “Argon.”

  Before I could stop myself I squeezed his leg under the table. He looked over at me, eyes wide.

  Maybe that woke him up.

  “This Renaissance astronomer first proposed a heliocentric, or sun-centered, model of the solar system.”

  “Copernicus.” We lost it to Prairie Hill.

  “Les Misérables, a musical based on a book of the same name, portrays the struggles of French working-class citizens who struggle for redemption and revolution in 19th-century France. Who authored the novel Les Misérables?”

  “Victor Hugo.” Kim finally scored one.

  We struggled back and forth with Prairie Hill for the next twenty minutes or so, as the rest of our team finally woke up and got in the game. Then a run of questions suddenly stumped Prairie Hill and favored us.

  “Name the fifteenth president of the United States.”

  “James Buchanan.”

  “What does caveat emptor mean?”

  “Let the buyer beware.”

  “Name one of the main languages used by people of the Philippines.”

  “Tagalog.”

  We got to twenty-nine points, just one question away from a win, when Prairie Hill came back and took two more. Then Lucas buzzed in on a computer question and we finally took the match, thirty to eighteen.

  The judges announced a thirty-minute break and we returned to our prep room down the hall in the back of the auditorium.

  “More coffee!” Hirsch ordered and Mrs. Teele scuttled off. Hirsch folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. “Sleeping? Don’t you dare let me catch you sleeping through a match!”

  “We won the last one,” Erik said, barely louder than a whimper.

  Hirsch glared down at him. “By pure luck. And it’s not just about winning matches. It’s about amassing points. You’ve got fifty, up just two from Prairie Hill.”

  “But we’re really beating the others, right?” I asked.

  “Winger and Northgate have only competed once. They’ve got two more rounds to rack up points. You have one.” Hirsch drummed his fingers on his upper arm. “It’s time for some strategy, people.”

  “Strategy?” I asked. “We either know the answers or we don’t.”

  “Not entirely, Miss Brynn.”

  Lucas leaned forward at the edge of the couch. “It’s also about being fast.”

  Hirsch nodded. “And sometimes it’s also about attitude.”

  I looked around at my teammates. “What’s wrong with our attitudes?”

  “You look weak. Tired.” He leaned toward me. “Afraid. Intimidation starts by portraying confidence.”

  “Intimidation?” Kim asked.

  Erik nodded. “Looking like you know you’re going to win. Like you’re the best.”

  “Why does it matter how we look?” I asked.

  Hirsch pointed at me. “Because it undermines the other team’s confidence. It makes them scared. It can cost them that split second it takes for one of you to hit the buzzer first. Now everybody stand up,” Hirsch commanded. “Spread out. I want fifty jumping jacks. Go!”

  Seriously?

  “If we had time I’d take you outside and make you run wind sprints. Let’s get that blood moving!”

  Erik roared, shoved his fist in the air, and did ten jumping jacks before the rest of us even started.

  When we finished, Hirsch pointed to the floor. “Drop and give me fifteen, Mr. Athaca!”

  Erik plopped down and pumped out his push-ups.

  “Your turn, Miss Brynn,” Hirsch pointed.

  “I can’t do fifteen push-ups!”

  Erik jumped up and started to clap. “Go! Go! Go!” The others joined in. Mia rolled her eyes, but then even she started to clap.

  “Fine.” I got down on the floor and braced myself. Damon cheered and whistled. They all counted as I struggled through fifteen real push-ups.

  “Mr. Emberry, if you please,” Hirsch ordered.

  After everyone did their push-ups, we all sat down. We panted, we laughed, we shook. And Mrs. Teele arrived with another tray of coffee. She gave me black this time, too.

  Hirsch held his coffee up and said, “To victory!”

  “To victory,” we yelled and toasted.

  Damon touched the rim of his cup to mine. “Glad you came now?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. I leaned back and took a drink. “Wish I had another chance to get you back for the pool, though.”

  He scowled and looked away. “I swear, nothing happened!”

  “I know. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  He looked confused for a second, then grinned. “You mean you getting dunked.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “The Y has a pool.” He shrugged. “You score ten points in our next match, and I’ll let you try again.”

  “Ten points? One-third of the game’s points?”

  “See. You are good at math.”

  “All right. What if you score ten points?”

  He looked at me for a long time, as he took another drink of his coffee.

  I shivered. “Behave.”

  “I’m thinking.”

  I wanted him to ask for a kiss. Desperately, wildly. But then part of me would’ve been really disappointed in him if he did.

  “If I score ten points, you take a ride with me on the dirt bike.”

  “The dirt bike’s broken, isn’t it?”

  He shook his hea
d. “Adam fixed it. Just needed shocks and a new rim.”

  “Anyway, I’ve already ridden with you.”

  “Not on the track.”

  I choked on my coffee.

  On the track? I saw myself launched off the back of the bike, hurled hundreds of feet into the air as we flew over that enormous ramp.

  He grinned, that maddeningly handsome Damon grin. “I thought you weren’t scared of me.”

  I put on my game face and looked at him. Neither of us could possibly get ten points in the next match, anyway.

  Could we?

  “Deal.”

  * * * * *

  Winger and Northgate went next. The Northgate team rocked, and whipped Winger thirty to sixteen. Then we went up against them.

  Those kids had game faces. They stared us down, each one of them focused on one of us.

  Damon leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Look at them like you looked at me this morning.”

  I pictured Mandy in Damon’s shirt again. My temperature dropped several degrees and I became the Doberman. I even growled.

  Ten points. I want ten points.

  “What is the significance of December 7, 1941?”

  “The Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, bringing the U.S. into World War II.” Damon turned to me and held up one finger.

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Who painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chap…”

  I hit the buzzer before the judge even finished the question. Are you serious? Everyone knows this. “Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni.”

  “Point to Parnell. If I could, I’d give you two points for that answer.”

  I looked at Damon over my shoulder and mouthed, “One.”

  “From what animal do we obtain the fiber called Mohair?”

  Northgate buzzed. “Goats. Specifically, the Angora goat.”

  “The phrases à la carte, je ne sais quoi, and faux pas were borrowed into English from what language?”

  Damon and Kim both buzzed for our team, but Northgate got it first. “French.”

  “What does A.D., as an indicator of the year, stand for?”

  Mia took it. “Anno Domini. Year of Our Lord.”

  The match proved to be our toughest yet. We scored, then Northgate scored, then we scored again. Damon and I each got a couple of more points, but both he and I, as well as us and Northgate, stayed neck-and-neck.

  “What is the capital city of Greece?”

  “Athens,” Damon answered. He looked straight across the table but held up five fingers at me.

  “This is an oven used for firing clay, especially for sculptures and ceramics.”

  I hit my buzzer, then wondered if I’d misunderstood the question.

  “Parnell has five seconds to provide a response.”

  An oven used for firing clay. “A kiln?” A second-grader could’ve answered that.