The Silence of Six: Chapter 1

Mr. Kelley sighed and let them join their teammate. "Just get settled quickly, will you? And no more shouting, huh?"

They made their way down to the front. Max grabbed the seat on the aisle; he hated being boxed in.

Isaac gave Walt a fist bump. "Good looking out."

"This is great, Walt. Thanks," Max said.

They were close enough to the front to see everything, even the laptop screens on the moderator's table below the stage— all except for Courtney's. The privacy filter he'd bought her for their one-month anniversary blacked out the screen at this angle.

Max texted her. Look behind you.

Courtney picked up her phone from the table, read the message, and then turned around. She smiled and waved when she spotted him.

Isaac whistled. "That outfit really shows off her rack."

"Come on." Max forced a cheerful tone to hide how pissed off he was. But he had to admit: Courtney was stunning in a gray striped pantsuit. Her honey-brown hair was twisted into a business-like bun that made her look older.

"I still can't believe you scored Full Cort," Isaac said.

"Don't call her that," Max snapped.

Guys had started chanting "Full Cort!" at basketball games whenever Courtney appeared, because of the way she filled her cheerleading uniform.

"You used to call her that too," Isaac said quietly.

"Yeah, but—" I was just trying to fit in, Max wanted to say. He'd just been pretending to be one of the guys, because that's what you did to be popular. Just as Courtney had pretended the nickname didn't bother her.

Eventually she quit the squad and joined the school newspaper, where she quickly developed a reputation as a tough reporter. After a brutal interview with a teacher about the Common Core, a reader commented  that  she  had  given the interviewee "the Full Cort Press," and the less offensive meaning soon stuck. Courtney had even taken the name for her personal blog.

Max's cell phone vibrated with a text from Courtney: I'm so nervous!

Max typed back. You'll be great!

I've got butterflies in my stomach. Or maybe one giant butterfly.

If  it  escapes  your  chest  Aliens-style, you'll  steal  the  show, Max wrote.

Courtney laughed then covered her mouth. Ew, she wrote.

I thought you'd be in the gym, he typed. The gym had been designated the "Spin Room", as it was the only space large enough to accommodate all the reporters covering the debate. Max didn't see the point, considering the internet would decide the winner almost instantaneously.

I couldn't  turn  down  the  best  seat  in  the  house.  I'm  going to liveblog the whole night and record video for my blog post, Courtney typed.

Good luck! he wrote. He added: BTW, you look amazing. ;)

We're about to start!!! See you after? <3

Max started to put his phone away when it buzzed again. It wasn't from Courtney this time. The text message was encrypted, which meant it could only be from Evan.

Max scanned the crowded auditorium. He didn't see Evan's trademark red hoodie anywhere. A dress code wouldn't have prevented him from wearing it; he would happily play the autism card if someone raised a fuss.