Knock Three Times

16. Innocence Lost

               DEBATE WAS THE FURTHEST thing from their young troubled minds when the final bell rang throughout the halls of Centennial Secondary School. Christine Davidson and James Rhoads said their goodbyes to their friends Hamish and Miranda, as they parted ways before the small yellow school bus, waiting just outside the side-entrance doors in the parking lot. They leaned against the bus side-by-side, watching their two friends part and begin their walk home in separate directions.

    'Think she'll be okay without you until we get back?' asked James, knowing that Miranda had never been alone in the Davidson house before, not without Christine.

    'She'll be fine. My parents just bought her a new bed and some furniture for her room. The police delivered her clothes yesterday morning. I guess it's no longer evidence.' she shrugged.

    James thought of the outfit Miranda had worn that day, mere jeans and a t-shirt.

    'Wait, so she had access to her regular clothes, yet she chose to wear yours? A bit odd, don't you think?'

    'Not at all.' the ginger teen shrugged. 'Miranda seems rather glad to be rid of them, actually. They just sat in the corner of her room, stuffed in black garbage bags. I think she's enjoying her new look on life. I'm quite proud of her actually.' she smiled, thinking of the extreme difference in such a short period of time.

    'I've never seen this side of her.' his thoughts ran ramped. Her pessimistic viewpoints and lack of personal drive was the only thing stopping James from taking a real interest in Miranda. The physical attraction had always been there, but now that she was taking herself seriously, he couldn't help but follow suit. 'Your parents must be some influence.'

    'Yeah, they're pretty great,' she beamed. 'But I think it's more than that. Having so much one-on-one time with her lately, I can't help but get the feeling she was sort of molded in such ways. Given her upbringing, I'd be shocked if she didn't turn out the way she did. I think our friend's finally seeing that she can be much more than what her environment intended.'

    'What sort of monkey suit are you wearing?' James suddenly noticed her official school attire, dark grey dress pants over an emerald vest. Beneath was a perfectly pressed white shirt with two buttons unlatched from the collar.

    'Don't get too comfortable, Mr. Rhoads,' stated Mr. Dixon appearing from behind the bus. 'We're expected at the theatre in half an hour and you have yet to change.'

    'Change?' he was taken aback. 'What's wrong with what I'm wearing?'

    'You represent our school, and today we will be debating against other schools in the district. Nothing too challenging, but the winner of this debate moves on to provincials, which will present a whole new level of difficulty. Then, the winner of that competition moves forward to National finals. This is where scholarships are born, Mr. Rhoads. So, I suggest you suit up.' he grinned, handing James a school blazer covered in thin plastic and dangling from his fingers by a coat hanger.

    'Perfect.' he grimaced, glaring at the unwanted attire. James snatched the blazer from his teacher's grasp in a manner displaying his obvious protest, and followed Christine onto the bus. Likewise, he flopped onto the rear passenger seat just behind her, tossing his book bag quite aggressively.

    'We aren't going, far, so I suggest you hurry.' Dixon warned. 'Keep that fire in your blood, James; you're going to need it once you take the stage.'

    'Just how many people will be at this thing?' Christine asked.

    'A hundred—maybe two. The municipal debate doesn't draw much of a crowd, mostly parents and friends in attendance, and a fair few more. I assume you're both comfortable with public speaking?'