The Scholarship

MEET THE JUDGES-Chapter Two

"I'm just not sure if he should be a finalist." Cynthia feels the familiar tension headache coming on as the same volunteer delays yet another vote. It's been three weeks, and they're still not done narrowing down the finalists. The distractions of the camera crews are gone, but the group is still moving slowly in their decisions. Julie, the production assistant, leans over to Cynthia.

"I don't think we're ever going to get done on time, Dr. Plath," she whispers urgently. "Maybe we should shake things up a bit." Cynthia gives Julie a grateful look.

"Any suggestions?" Cynthia asks.

"Well," Julie pauses to think. "You are one of the judges. You should be able to bend the rules. It's in your contract, right?" Cynthia tries to think of a way to finally end the debate that's been going on.

"Okay, let's take a ten minute break," she says to the group. Most of them look relieved. Cynthia grabs her purse and heads outside for a quick smoke break.

The large man in the tight t-shirt opens the door for her. "Thanks, Duke," Cynthia says before she steps out into the bright sunlight. Duke quickly glances around trying to see if there are any reporters lingering in the lot. He gives Cynthia a thumbs-up. Thankfully, after three weeks, the paparazzi seem to have lost all interest.

Cynthia lights her Parliament cigarette with her Tiffany's lighter she got as a gift from an Oscar-winning director three Christmases ago. They'd had a short fling, but afterward Cynthia swore off Hollywood men. They were just too much drama.

Her mind drifts to the phone conversation she had several weeks back with Dr. Jones. His deep, husky voice had sent shivers through her body. She's been looking forward to meeting him in person at the press interview ever since. If only her group could pick a finalist! The press interview is right around the corner, and they're expected to have a name by then.

Cynthia smashes her cigarette on the ground, but then picks it up and throws it in the nearest trash bin. She returns to the windowless room where she has spent the majority of her time for too many days. Thankfully, the volunteers have gotten used to her and no longer seem as awkward around her or the cameras.

"Okay, everyone," she says with confidence she doesn't quite feel. "This is the day. We are going to pick our finalist."

Everyone sits back down, and Cynthia pulls up the list of remaining possibilities. She looks it over for a few minutes and gets an idea.

"I would like to add someone to the list," she says. The quiet chatter stops, and everyone stares at her.

"How is that possibly going to help up make a decision?" Frank, the high school English teacher from Beverly Hills, asks.

"Well, Frank," Cynthia says, "it's obvious we're getting nowhere with this list, so as one of the judges, I'm going to shake things up a bit." She glances at Julie as she says it, and Julie lets out a little laugh. Cynthia takes a deep breath. "I'm nominating Naomi King." Everyone immediately responds at once.

"Yes! That's what I've been trying to say!"

"No way! She didn't even meet the criteria!"

"You mean that Amish girl?"

Cynthia pulls up Naomi's application and quickly scans it for the hundredth time. "I know she doesn't technically meet all the rubric requirements, but she shouldn't be punished because the Amish only school their children through the eighth grade."

Everyone sits in silence until Marge, one of the older volunteers, speaks up. "I agree with Cynthia, " she says. "Naomi's story is compelling, her essay is exceptionally well written, and she seems to be risking a lot just by applying."