The Duke of Bannerman Prep by Katie A. Nelson

Author:Katie A. Nelson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sky Pony
Published: 2017-08-21T00:00:00+00:00

By the time we arrived, the dance had been going for at least half an hour. It was one of the perks of this invitational—kind of an afterparty, where competitors could blow off steam while we waited for the tournament officials to tabulate the results and hold the awards ceremony. Of course, after the parties at the Duke’s house, this was just a discount DJ and a bunch of sweaty high school kids crammed into a hotel ballroom. In spite of that, everyone seemed to be having a good time.

The Duke and I had been in the last round to finish. We’d made it to finals, easily defeating the team from Vegas, whose case the Duke had stolen, and barely beating a team from Portland in a split decision. Our final round could have gone either way. Instead of my usual end-of-tournament feeling of release and excitement, I just felt tired.

We’d only cheated in the one round, but it had tainted everything that followed. I loved the rush of debate. As soon as the round started, that fight-or-flight reflex would kick in, and it was as intense as any football game or track meet or wrestling match could ever be. Standing in front of a judge, listening to the other team ask questions, trying to figure out in the briefest moment not only what the answer to their question was, but how they would use that answer against me, had always made my heart race. And then in rebuttals, after only a minute or two to prepare, that moment when I could read a quote or cite a study that proved my analysis was correct. It was impossible not to get caught up in that. To feel the strength of the words I spoke, to know that these ideas that we were arguing about—that they could work, that we could come up with better solutions, that somehow we could make the world a better place. It was power. A feeling like nothing else in the world.

Tonight, I hadn’t felt any of that. And I wondered if I ever would again.

I hadn’t wanted to come to the dance. But Watterson hadn’t cared what I wanted.

The Duke and I had shared a cab, changing out of our dress clothes in the bathroom. We entered the ballroom to find the music pumping and a mob of bodies pressed against each other, awkward and nervous and alive with anticipation.

Tran was the first to see us come in. Standing next to a table with sodas and water bottles, he waved and motioned us over. As we crossed the room, the Duke took stock of the space, nodding to people, smiling at some of the girls. I pushed ahead, meeting Tran first.

“So?” he asked. “How did it go?”

I picked up a bottle of water. Twisting the cap off, I shrugged. “Hard to say. It will probably be a split decision.”

“What case were they running?”

“Entitlement reform. Mostly food stamps.”

He nodded.

“You’re not dancing?”

“No way,” Tran shook his head. “This music sucks.

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