Adam

I was leaning against my car, looking at the clouds in the sky, when I spied Miranda’s old Mustang pulling into the parking lot. I stood up straight, staring out at the car to confirm that it was actually her and I wasn’t just making it up.

But if there was one thing I’d learned about Miranda, it was that she was hard to mistake for someone else. She had always been entirely her own.

She had her sunglasses on and was blasting music—absolutely fearless as always. It was just one of the many things I loved about her and one of the biggest reasons we were friends. We’d immediately hit it off and had just never really stopped hanging out since then.

“Hey!” I called out to her, crossing the parking lot to meet her car. She pulled into a parking spot, and I met her near the driver’s side door. “What are you doing here?”

Miranda shut off her car, cutting her music instantly, and then hopped out. “Slumming, what else?” She looked around at the cars in the parking lot, her nose visibly upturned. Just amongst the cars, she managed to stand out as unique, unpolished. Her car was a much better fit for her than any of the fancy cars in the lot. “Please tell me the kids here have more character than their choice of cars.”

My lips turned up in a small, amused smile. “Some.”

“Sooo,” she said, dragging the word out almost into a song. She looked at me teasingly. “How was your first day with the fancy kids?”

“Not too bad actually,” I said, and Miranda looked almost disappointed. “I wish I had something more juicy to share, but it’s kind of just the usual mix in a high school. Some kids are assholes, some don’t care. There are the artsy kids, the athletes. Blah, blah, blah. You know what I mean.”

“Sure, okay,” she said and lifted her sunglasses up to her hair, pushing it back out of her face. She leaned coolly against her car. “But you, my friend, are not the usual mix. Where do you fit in?”

I let out a small sigh. “I’m not sure yet. Debate tryouts are in a half hour.”

“You have to try out? You?” Miranda asked dryly. She shook her head slightly. Miranda had always been one of my biggest cheerleaders, always looking out for me and supporting me.

“It’s a new kid thing,” I said.

“That’ll take about ten minutes,” she said and then gasped, standing up straight as if remembering something. “Will that hot guy Max Rhodes be there?”

“He is the captain,” I said slowly with a slight smile, and Miranda’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, good—someone tasty to stare at while you slaughter them,” she said. She pressed a hand to her chest. “There’s nothing I love more than some eye candy.”

I grinned. “The vision of very handsome, hot-guy Max Rhodes has been the highlight of my day,” I admitted.

***

Max

From next to me, Devon stretched, rolling his shoulders. He and a couple of the debate team members were lined up in desks, staring down a potential team member. I was feeling more apathetic toward him—if not maybe sympathetic. The kid looked like he was about to vomit all over his shoes.

Devon had been playing softball, but I could tell he was gearing up to start grilling. I hated this part of the process—Devon could be such a power player. He always wanted the upper hand. I could see him easily sliding into the role of someone who hazed people in a fraternity in a few years.

I zoned out, knowing it was no use arguing with Devon in front of the kid he was laying into. I didn’t agree with his approach, but I wasn’t going to undermine my teammates in front of someone else.

As he went in for the kill, the kid suddenly burst into tears and left in a hurry. Silence settled over the room for a beat in his place.

“That wasn’t necessary,” I said, sitting up.

“It’s our senior year, our last chance to win the state championship. We can’t afford to have anyone who can’t take the heat,” Devon said. He leaned forward over his paper on his desk, writing no in giant letters across the selection sheet for the student. He then rated him a zero out of five and then put the paper to the side, in the do not consider pile.

Our consider pile was looking very slim compared to our do not consider pile.

I let out a small sigh, trying to not let it discourage me. We’d have to find someone eventually. “Who’s next?” I asked.

Adam stepped into the room. “I am,” he said, a girl I didn’t recognize at his side.

“Auditions are private,” Devon said, but she ignored him and went to the back to go sit.

“Just act like I’m not here,” she said.

I turned to Devon, giving him a silent warning to just let it go. I then placed three note cards upside down in front of Adam. “Each card has a different subject. You’ll be debating each of these lovely team members, one team member to a subject. Standard debate rules apply.”

Adam squared his shoulders and nodded once. “Got it,” he said.

I flipped the first card over for Adam to read. “You’ll start with Delia and then when time is up with her, you’ll debate Devon,” I said. “You’re going to argue the pro side for all of the cards. Your time starts now.”

Adam and Delia started, Adam going first with the pro side and Delia then stepping in with the con side of AI in the workplace. We weren’t so much testing knowledge—statistics and sources could be totally false for the tryout. We were just testing their ability to articulate their thoughts.

But it didn’t hurt when a debater clearly knew a lot of different subjects already even without research. And Adam definitely fell into that category.

He effortlessly breezed through his debate with Delia and then shifted gears to debating Devon on book banning.

As I watched them debate, I kept my eyes carefully on Adam. I wanted to study every single part of his face; I already knew the tells of my debate team members, but I didn’t know any of Adam’s—yet, at least.

The debate with Devon closed out, Adam effortlessly taking him down just like he did Delia.

I stood up next to debate him, our topic being net neutrality. We launched right into it. I was focused on my words, but I was more focused on Adam’s face. I memorized every detail, catching every movement of his lips, gesture of his hands.

Finally, I caught it—a twitch in his cheek that appeared when he was being challenged. I dug my heels in, pushing the point further, knowing that it was a weak spot for him. It quickly became obvious to both of us—and everyone else in the room—that I had won.

Adam’s friend suddenly rose from her seat in the back, clapping loudly.

“I lost, Miranda,” he said.

“Oh, I know. But Max was brilliant!”

I flushed. “It wasn’t an easy win,” I said and then turned to Adam. “Welcome to the team.”

***

Adam

After the debate tryouts, Miranda and I headed back out to our cars.

Miranda looked over at me. “You’re being quieter than usual,” she said, bumping her shoulder into me. “You’ve done a million debates. You can’t possibly be upset about losing this one. It didn’t even mean anything. You’re still on the team.”

I weighed if I really wanted to get into it, then sighed. “I wanted to join the team in victory. I’d been looking forward to beating Max.”

Miranda linked my arm through hers. “You will—next time. Think of it this way, you get to practice with yummy Max five days a week. I definitely wouldn’t mind being around Max that often,” she said. “Actually, do you think you guys need a debate team mascot?”

I laughed. “I don’t think so, but we can always pitch it.”

“What’s the deal with him, anyway? Do I stand a chance? Do you? Could both of us?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. He’s hard to read. Other than debates, this is the most time I’ve spent with the guy. He’s a tough opponent—very hard to read in and out of competition. I don’t know much else about him besides that he’s the captain.”

“And that he’s hot.”

“And that he’s hot,” I said with a chuckle.

“Now what I need to find out is if he’s single,” she said. “I can’t imagine it’ll be that hard to figure out with you here.”

I felt a strange flash of jealousy at the mention of Miranda wanting to dig into Max’s dating life. She was clearly enthusiastic about getting to know him.

And the truth was, I was too. I wouldn’t mind figuring out more about what was going on with Max, either.