Jessica vs. The Jerk

29. Three men and a baby

The adrenalin of public speaking gets me through most of the next day. To my utter surprise, I make it to the finals, beating our own senior speaker, who graciously congratulates me even though he looks a little heartbroken.

I'm the only junior in the finals, and for the first time today, I feel the nerves kick in. I deliver my prepared speech pretty well, I think, but I speak second, which isn't my favorite position in the draw. Still, I feel incredibly lucky to have made it this far, and when I smile at my Mom in the audience after my eight minutes are up, the pride I see in her eyes is everything to me.

I have a three-minute impromptu speech to go, and after that it's all up to the adjudicators.

'The impromptu topic,' the first adjudicator announces, 'is The Privilege of Youth. Each contestant will have three minutes to speak. There will be a warning bell at two minutes, and at the end of three minutes the bell will be rung continuously. The contestants now have five minutes to prepare their speeches.'

I already have five speeches semi-prepared for the impromptu round. They're generic by necessity, so I spend the first minute sifting through them in my mind to decide which one would suit the topic best. I spend the next minute jotting notes on my speech cards to make sure I don't miss any key points. The third minute I use to nail down my introduction; the fourth my conclusion. I panic for most of the fifth minute, until I remember that I have at least three more minutes while the first speaker is doing her thing. That's just enough time for me to say one decade of the Rosary in my head. Just in case it helps.

Then it's my turn.

'Samuel Johnson,' I begin, meeting each of the adjudicators' eyes one at a time as I gather calm from the now-silent room, 'wrote that love is the privilege of youth.'

*

I come second, and I can't help it; I cry. I keep it together on stage, of course. But when Mom hugs me with pride, I can't help the tear that leaks out, and I swear it's impossible to wipe the smile off my face.

Papa doesn't approach us, so I go to him, and buoyed by my victory, I give him a hug, too. I know he's surprised -- I feel the slight hesitation before he returns the gesture.

'I'm very proud of you, Jessie.' His voice is gruff, like he hasn't had much practice complimenting people. Because, let's face it, he probably hasn't.

But I just grin like a maniac. 'I'm glad you were here, Papa.' For the first time, he smiles back at me without any strain.

I chat with my dad for a few minutes, and it's the best conversation we've had in five years. I guess I'm in a very good mood. I'm not even uncomfortable that my parents are in the same room. It helps that Mom is at the other end of the room speaking with Ms. Fortunado.

When I excuse myself and head back to Mom, I remove my phone from DND mode and send a quick text to my friends to let them know I came second. Mila is also competing in the dance finals, and she won't be finished for another hour or so. Renie is helping with the rugby games, and she won't be done until the end of the day.

Mom wants to take me out to dinner, but I insist on supporting my friends, so we agree that I can stay until the games are finished, and then she's taking me to Greenbelt for a fancy meal.

I rush to the auditorium to catch Mila's final solo, and I'm glad I did when they announce her as the winner. Over the years, I've heard a lot of whispers about Mila being favoured over other students because of who her mother is, but anyone who has seen her dance would know that she's amazing. Obviously, her mother pays for lessons, but Mila is one of those dancers who is absolutely transformed on stage. I think dancing is in her blood, although come to think of it, I'm not sure it's something she plans to pursue after high school.