"The scores are in and, while the vote was very close, I think we have a winner. Congratulations to the opposition, Lucas Wilson, for winning this debate."
I swear I hear her wrong, but Lucas's no-so-modest victory dance kills that theory quickly. He's already walking towards the judges to shake their hands before he pivots towards me and grasps my hand in his. His skin is dry against mine, and I let go of his hand as soon as he's shaken my wrist.
I lost.
I fucking lost.
I never considered myself a sore loser. Well, maybe when it comes to Carter. But, right now, I'm feeling like a real loser. Like a fucking embarrassment. Carter was literally hungover and managed to win his debate with me, but I can't even beat this asshole who literally wasted a POI to say my point was "idiotic."
I was so sure we would get through this competition with a seven day win streak and that we'd be accepting metals and certificates on Wednesday. And now, I may have just fucked all of that up. I didn't think I did a bad job. Sure, some of Lucas's untraditional critiques threw me off a bit, but my points were strong, my structure was perfect, and I practically disproved every one of his claims.
What am I going to tell Carter?
The last thing I need is for him to gloat about how much better of a debater he is and how I completely screwed up our chances of winning. Just thinking about it makes my stomach curl. Carter has won all of his debates, we've won all of the partner ones, and now I've contaminated our performance with a loss to someone who takes up three minutes of his time to go on a tangent on how my tone weakens my point.
I stumble out of the office room, dripping in disappointment and guilt. I screwed up. I fucking messed up and ruined everything we've worked for. One loss is fine on any other day, but there's no room for losers at JW Debate. I didn't even shake the judges' hands. Fuck.
I'm supposed to meet Carter in the conference hall, but I can't. I know what the first question he's going to ask will be, and I can't bring to myself to watch as his usual dimpled smile drops when I tell him that I lost, followed by the inevitable slew of "I'm better than you" comments that I just can't take right now.
I take the back hallways to try and find an emergency exit to escape by. I can already feel tears pricking my eyes, but I blink them back and continue to walk past rows of doors and windows. I swear I see Felix coming out of a small grey room, so I disappear behind a sharp corner. His optimism is not needed right now. Shit. I left my jacket in the conference hall. There's no way I can go get it now, so I just pray that nobody takes it before I return tomorrow. Tomorrow. The last full day of debates that I have to get through with Carter. Carter who's going to know that I'm a loser. A fucking loser.
I locate the exit door and push it open, my hair blowing in all directions from the cool wind. The hotel is a short walk away, but with every step I feel my disappointment in myself grow deeper, like a stone plummeting to the bottom of my stomach. I'm not one to wallow in self pity, but I feel myself shrinking into the worst version of myself. One that deserves nothing, and finally got what she deserves.
"You dropped your heart, dear."
I twirl around to see a lady standing behind me. Her blue eyes, a kind type of blue, like gentle waves, are staring straight at me.
"I don't think so, madame." I pat my chest where my heart is, "It's right here."
She smiles, her eyes creasing slightly at the corners. "Not that heart. You never want to drop that one. I meant the white one on the ground."
I stare at the ground. Just as the lady pointed out, there's a white heart made of lined paper on the sidewalk. It must have fallen out of my bag, but I don't remember ever putting it in there. Deciding not to explain that I have no idea what this paper heart is, I just pick it up, mumble "thank you" to the lady, and continue walking down the sidewalk.
Unfolding the paper, I see that it's a page of notes from Carter and I's debate this morning. But on the bottom of the page is something I don't remember being there.
Written in Carter's faded cursive print, it says: Carter Conners + Sadie Jones = Badass Debate Partners.
I stare at the seven words for what feels like forever. And then the flood gates open, and I don't know if it's because of how fucking nice that stupid paper heart is or how guilty I feel for proving my half of the message to not be true.
My phone has been buzzing nonstop with texts from Carter. They started off like: Hey, are we still meeting in the conference hall? And have quickly escalated to: Where the fuck are you? I don't move to answer them, and, instead, slump down further onto the floor, pushing my wet eyes into my kneecaps. When I feel the wet fabric of my pants sticking to my skin, I rest my forehead in my hands.
I hear the twist of a doorknob and the sound of the door being pushed open. Keeping my head down, I see bottom of Carter's pant legs as he cross the room, stoping a few feet away from me. He clears his throat, but I don't acknowledge his presence. I feel him sink down onto his knees and guide my hands away from my face, tilting my chin up so I'm looking into his eyes, worry swarming behind his pupils. He drops something beside me, and I feel the waterproof material of my jacket.
"Thanks," I breathe, fiddling with the jacket sleeve.
"Jones," he whispers. "What's wrong?"
I just shake my head and train my eyes back on the ground, as if that will hide how red they are. I don't even know why I'm crying. I'm pathetic. A logical person would just accept the loss and move on.
"C'mon," he urges, quietly. "What's going on?"
I consider not telling him. The list of reasons for why I could be crying is infinite. I could pick any one. But, instead, I mumble, "I lost."
His face contorts in confusion. "What?"
I sigh, sucking in a breath that still doesn't seem to fill my lungs with air. "I lost. My debate. I, um, didn't win."
I wait for the retort: "Ha, you're such a loser, Jones." But it doesn't come. Instead his eyes darken and he grips the bottom of my chin again, inching my face up and closer to his. He almost looks... angry?
"Who beat you?" He all but growls.
Now it's my turn to be confused. "What?"
"Who. Fucking. Beat. You." His voice is harsh, each word sharper than a knife.
"Just this asshole, Lucas Wilson," I mumble.
"Those judges are fucking idiots," he grumbles.
I don't understand what's going on. "You're not going to tell me that I'm an awful debater and that it was high-time that someone finally proved it?"
"You think I'd say that?" Hurt rolls off his words
"I don't know," I murmur.
Suddenly, he stands up and backs away from me, walking over to the door and unlocking it. I jump up after him and put a hand on his arm, causing him to spin around. The look on his face is nothing but determined.
"Where are you going?" I ask, surprised at how quiet my voice comes out.
He steps toward me, his heaving chest hitting mine. My eyes are level with his chin, so I tilt my head up so I can't see anything other than green irises lined with gold. For a while, we both don't say anything, our heavy breathing synchronizing as we simply stare at each other.
"Let's get one thing straight," he says, his voice low, traveling in through my ears and filling my body with warmth. "The only person who bests you is me. First place belongs to you and me and everybody else can go to hell. I don't give a damn about Lucas Wilson. You. Are. A. Fucking. Winner."
And, with that, he steps away from me, opens the door, and walks out of the room.
I pick up the paper heart off of the bed and read the words over and over again, hoping they'll help give me some sense of what the hell just happened. They don't, so, instead, I climb under the covers, hold the paper to my chest, and try to figure it out myself.
...
A/N
I couldn't resist taking the "Who did this to you?" trope and making it academic rivals to lovers with "Who beat you?"
And I'm sorry for the short chapter, but the last one was pretty long so we're going to let it slide.
More excitement to come as Sadie and Carter embark of the last two days of their debate competition.
Thx for reading!