“Anyone else?” the tall, blonde senior asked with a wicked smile. We all backed down, and wondered were the kid Josh had just debated had run off to. The poor kid didn’t stand a chance. He was a rabbit challenging a bobcat. The last time we saw him, he was running off the stage fighting back tears.
Just before the moderator was about to close the debate, my friend Beth Simmons grabbed my arm and raised it high in the air. She even added a short but loud, “Over here!”
I pulled my arm down and glared at her. I hoped the moderator hadn’t looked my way. Unfortunately, he did. His voice echoed and crackled as he said in the microphone, “Young lady in the green shirt, come on up!” I shook my head, but Beth pushed me foreword. I dug my gym shoes on the gymnasium floor, making that horrible screeching noise. Just before Beth kicked me on stage, she wished me good luck.
Josh smiled at me and ran his fingers through his shiny hair. He’s had a massive not-so-secret crush on me since freshman year of high school. To bad he’s a total jerk, who thinks he can get by on good looks and his CEO father.
I staggered to the opposite microphone, adjusted the height to my 5’5 size, and tried to ignore the 200 pairs of eyes staring at me.
The spotlight enlarged to swallow Josh and I. The bright lights made me sweat even more.
“Your debate topic today will be the war in Iraq. Josh, you will be against the war, and you, um, what’s your name?”
Embarrassed, I whispered, “Sophie.”
“Ok. You will be for the war.” I nodded my head. “Start whenever you like,” he said to Josh.
With a smirk, Josh began. “We went to Iraq in search of nuclear weapons, but there were none. But were still their. Everyday, soldiers are dying. That was my que to attack and fire back with facts and statistics. But I didn’t know any. I couldn’t even tell you where Iraq is on the map. I looked down at my dirty Pumas, and wished I could sink into the stage, out of existence. But somewhere, (I’m not sure where) I found the voice and the courage to say “Can’t we agree to disagree?”
Josh crinkled his almost to perfect (like they could possibly be plucked) eyebrows and declared, “Um, excuse me, but this is a debate. (As if this was news…) You volunteered to debate me about an issue.”
We locked eyes as I said, “Were all entitled to our own opinions. Who’s to say which is wrong and which is right?” Finally there was a question Josh couldn’t answer.
The audience stared wide eyed at both of us, wondering what would come next.
“This is totally unfair!” Josh burst. “We should be talking about the Iraq War,” he said a bit quieter. I said nothing. “I’m out of her!” he declared. He stomped off the stage as people cheered and whistled.
“We have a new champion!” the moderator stated.
I stepped off the stage feeling a new sense of pride and accomplishment. Someone finally won a debate against Josh—and that someone was me.