Alex wasn’t in the breakfast room, but Rick was. I was surprised to feel my stomach jump when I saw him.
“Saved ya a seat,” he said, gesturing beside him.
“Really?” I said. “Are you sure there’s room for me?”
“I think you can squeeze in.” He laughed and so did I. We were the only two from our whole group in the room again. But it felt so different this time. I wanted to be with him.
“I’m surprised you’re here so early,” he said. “It’s so unlike you.”
“Ha, Ha. Someone even kept me up last night. But, as you know, today is our last real day here. I want to enjoy every minute.”
“Ditto.”
We laughed about last night and continued our conversation until more of our group joined us. Alex still hadn’t showed. Why couldn’t I just forget about Alex and give my full attention to Rick? Mrs. J. told us to head for the bus, and Rick took Marybeth’s, Kira’s and my trash to the garbage. I stood up, watching Rick walk away, when I felt a hand grab mine. Alex’s.
I grinned playfully, my body tingling, making me feel silly. “Hey,” I said. “We missed ya at breakfast.” My voice didn’t sound like me. It was too perky.
“Yeah, I was so tired, if Josh hadn’t woken me, I’d still be sleeping.”
“Sorry,” I said, wondering why he looked so tired and wishing I’d thought to go knock on his door to see where he was.
He raised my chin up and said, “Hey, why don’t we
forget about this thing today and just go roam D.C. together?” His fingers traced my jawbone.
My heart flipped. How I wanted to. “I would love to do that, but I’d lose my scholarship if I did, and I don’t know where I would come up with ten grand to pay it back.” No fun for me. I guess adventure is hard to come by when you’re always trying to do the right thing.
His head dropped slightly to the side. “I’ll pay it. Come on, let’s go.” He motioned with his head toward the exit.
I’ll pay it? Did he really just say he would pay it? Good grief, ten thousand dollars down the drain. Just like that. Was ten grand really nothing to him? “That’s really tempting, but that would be silly.” Oh, how I wanted to go. Why couldn’t I say yes?
“I want to spend some time with you. Christy, come on.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Fire seared through me.
“Today’s the last day.” He sighed and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer.
“I know. So let’s make the best of it.” I turned out of his arm, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door. Rick came into view as I turned. He stood, frozen by the garbage can, staring at us. This morning had been so nice with Rick, why was it so easy to leave him for Alex, now?
Alex saw me look past him at Rick and looked too. I stopped pulling, a feeling of desperation ate at me, only to have Alex turn and pull me out the door.
“Do I need to be worried?” Alex asked, as we boarded the bus.
“Worried?” I asked.
“Yeah, worried.”
“About what?” I said, plopping onto an empty seat near the back and sliding toward the window.
“About Rick,” he hissed, his face so close to my ear that I felt his breath.
Before I could answer, Rick said, “Hey guys.” interrupting us and sitting in the seat just in front of ours as the bus started to move. His breathing was heavy. He must have run. He really didn’t want Alex to have me.
Alex turned to face Rick, so slowly that it seemed to take forever. My heart was being squashed, and I held my breath. Rick had known about Alex from the start, but Alex had no clue about Rick. My face burned, and all I could do was stare at Rick. Did I want Rick or Alex? I wanted both.
“Hmm,” Alex managed.
I wondered what more Rick wanted to say. He grinned from ear to ear, looking at me. I hoped he would be kind enough not to bring up our meeting last night.
“Our last day here. Can you believe it?” Rick asked.
“Can’t,” Alex answered in a short burst. The bus moved into traffic.
I tried to answer, but could only shake my head. I looked at Alex, his jaw tight. He stared at Rick with hard eyes. Rick’s eyes, on the other hand, were on fire. He was on the attack. Please, please don’t mention last night, I thought. Rick started to open his mouth to speak again, but I jumped in, unwilling to let Alex know about last night—if that’s what he was going to talk about.
“Is the debate going to last the whole day?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
The fire in Rick’s eyes seemed to ebb a bit when he looked back at me.
“I think it gets over at five, but then there’s the gala after that,” Rick said.
Hmm. The gala. I conveniently pushed it out of my mind.
“I hope they keep us all together,” I said. “I can’t imagine spending the whole day listening to the unprepared and uninspired.”
Alex chuckled and then whispered, “Let’s not then.”
I’m sure my face was fire engine red at that moment. Did Rick hear? His smoldering voice sent a shock through my body, and I sighed, wishing I could go with him.
Rick’s eyes fired up again, he must have heard, but before he could speak, I jumped up, noticing that the bus had stopped.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, pushing Alex into the aisle. Rick let us pass and then followed. I smiled at him feeling stupid, ashamed.
Once inside, everyone split up, heading for their registration table that sat under the letter corresponding with their last names. Much to my horror, Senator Randolph was assigned to me. It was too much. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Most students would be given names of congressmen, but there were over five hundred students involved in this little experiment and so senators would also have to be used. We were given a little packet that showed where our seat was and what to expect throughout the day. It included a small list of Senate bills and causes that Senator Randolph’s campaign was for or against.
I paused as I looked at the list, unable to avoid wondering if the bill the robed man in the ballroom had said must pass was included in the list. Maybe being assigned to Senator Randolph was a blessing after all. Maybe I could figure out what he was up to.
I walked into the huge room. The conference center had been made into a makeshift congressional meeting room—pretty accurately laid out—only on a larger scale. As I looked for my seat, I smiled. I couldn’t help it when I saw that it was ten rows from the very back on the aisle. Extra space was always a plus to me, but I knew no one around me. I couldn’t even see anyone in my mini-group or tour group of fifty. This place was huge.
I thought about what the four bills on Senator Randolph’s list involved: immigration, livestock identification, farmers’ aid, and energy solutions. I knew the immigration bill forwards and backwards, and in that bill, I couldn’t make any connections with the Middle East. That bill had everything to do with border immigration from Mexico and Canada. I knew nothing about the other three bills. Then I noticed that Senator Randolph was only sponsoring two of them: immigration and farmers’ aid.
I wished I had a computer at that moment; I wanted to research this farmers’ aid bill. Looking around, I noticed a lot of students had brought laptops today. A guy three seats down from me had one sitting closed on his desk.
Did I dare ask him to use it? He’d probably think I was a kook, but I really wanted it. I took a deep breath, deciding the information about farmers’ aid was more important than my discomfort. I stood up, put my hands together and walked towards this guy, telling myself I could do it. His eyes were closed, head tilted slightly back, hands folded in his lap. He looked harmless enough, so I reached out and tapped his shoulder. He peeked out of one eye, then sat up straight, opening both eyes wide.
“Hi. I’m Christy. I was wondering, could I borrow your laptop for a few minutes, just until we start, I mean?”
“Sure,” he blurted, pushing the laptop toward me. It almost fell to the
floor, but I caught it. His face was crimson and his eyes almost bugged out of his head.
“Great,” I said. “I’m only three seats this way, on the aisle.” I gestured with the laptop in the direction I was already walking. He nodded his head but said nothing.
“Twenty minutes to find what I needed,” I thought. “Plenty of time.”
I was wrong. There was a ton of gibberish on this bill: companies I’d never heard of and couldn’t find information on, funding from unspecified sources; lots of nonsense woven into some real stuff.
When the bell chimed, alerting everyone that we would begin in five minutes, I’d barely scraped the surface. I forged on, trying to skim through the slush and find the meat. I looked up and noticed the young man who’d loaned me the laptop looking at me nervously. I gave up and took it to him.
“Thank you so much,” I said. “Too bad I didn’t have another two hours.” I grinned. He kind of lifted his chin a bit, but said nothing.
I wondered if that mess of a bill could possibly have something to do with the Middle East. Then I remembered what Marybeth had said about Senator Randolph. “He’s going to save the farmers. He’s heaven sent.” I tossed around the information I’d seen on the computer for the next three hours of debate—a good distraction until lunch time.
Lunch was à la carte, so I grabbed a sandwich and looked for anyone in our group. I would’ve loved to have found Eugene. He was sure to have his laptop with him, but he was nowhere to be found. There were too many people in too large a space. I would even have settled for some kind of internet phone at the moment.
I sat on a ledge in the corner of the massive room and ate, while cursing the fact that I needed more information and didn’t know how I would get it.
A shadow fell over me and I tried not to look up, but the suspense was killing me. After about ten seconds, I did look up. The guy I’d borrowed the laptop from earlier stood in front of me. I gave him a smile and waited for him to speak.
“You could laptop use again?” he stuttered.
“Huh?” I said, trying to focus on him.
He held out the laptop in front of me, paler than before.
“Oh,” I said, figuring out what he’d try to say. “I’d love to use the laptop again. Thanks!”
He managed a grin this time as he handed it over to me.
He reminded me of myself at home. I could never talk to anyone my age one-on-one without sounding like an idiot. This guy was just nervous. I wanted to make him feel comfortable, and so I patted the ledge beside me, and he sat down.
“I’m researching Senator Randolph’s farmers’ aid bill. Do you know anything about it?” I asked without looking at him, trying to make it easier for him to talk to me.
“Nothing,” he squeaked.
“Darn,” I said. “There’s all this crazy wording in this bill and lots of different companies involved that have no web presence. The bill appears to be a good thing on the surface, but as you dig deeper, more questions appear than answers.”
“Humpf,” he said. “Sounds like politics to me.”
“Does this say that these companies mentioned here,” I said, pointing at the screen, “will own the land in Iowa, with opportunity to own land in all other states?”
The shy boy, still nameless, looked at the screen with interest.
I read further, trying to disprove my ideas, but they were only strengthened.
“Looks like it to me,” the boy said. I was careful not to look at him.
“How could that benefit the farmers?” I said, half to myself.
“That’s easy,” he said. My looking away seemed to pull him out of his shell. I hoped it would. It would have for me. “If someone else owns the land, there’s less risk to the farmers in case of disasters.”
I was already four pages further, listening to him, but concentrating on my reading. I had to gasp at what I was reading. Then I remembered I’d been talking to him and needed to comment on what he had said.
“That seems logical,” I said. “But what if the land owner owned the crops, too, and the farmers only work for these companies?”
“That sounds great,” he said. “Then the farmer has no risk and no loss. Only gain.”
“But, they also would get none of the benefits of outright ownership. It would be a job, nothing more. Who are these companies that would have all the power to decide what and when to plant?” I mused.
“There you are,” a voice said, interrupting us.
I knew the voice immediately. Alex’s. I had to smile. I looked up, and sure enough, he smiled down at me.
“What could be so important on that computer,” Alex said, “that would keep you from finding me during lunch?”
“I looked all over for you guys,” I protested. “I couldn’t find you. I was all alone until,” I looked toward the unnamed guy and asked, “I never caught your name, I’m sorry.”
He dropped his head and said, “Thomas.”
“Well, Thomas here, was nice enough to let me use his laptop to do some research to figure out this bill I’m supposed to defend today.”
“Someone helped you?” he said, sarcasm lining his words. “I didn’t know anyone knew enough to help you.”
“Ha, Ha,” I said. “Have you ever heard of any of these companies?” I asked, pointing to the screen again.
“Never heard of any of them,” he answered after looking them over.
“Don’t you think that’s odd?” I asked. “You know, this bill is sponsored by Senator Randolph.” I gave him a knowing look.
“Hmm.” Alex said. He looked harder at the screen.
The five minute bell rang, and I felt Thomas, my laptop provider, stand up. He was ready to go back to his seat. I shut the laptop, wishing I could keep it, and handed it over to him.
“Thanks again,” I said. “You were really helpful.”
He grabbed the laptop and hurried away, head down.
“Alex, I think these terrorists have plans to take over our farmlands, but why? They already control the oil, do they want to control our food supplies, too? It would be impossible. Do you know how many farms fill this country? I can’t imagine how they could get control of all of them in less than…. a hundred years.”
“Yeah, doesn’t seem like a smart move.”
I looked up at Alex’s too perfect face and had to smile again, my body buzzing. For a moment, Senator Randolph didn’t exist and I found myself in shock thinking that Alex might really like me. He had searched for me all during lunch, and he held his sack lunch, still full, his face glowing. Butterflies took over my stomach. I liked this feeling.
He sat down next to me and said, “Let’s ditch this place, please.”
The force of his eyes melted my heart. I wanted to ditch.
“We’ve already been over this,” I said, smiling.
“Really, Christy,” he said. “There are over five hundred kids in there. No one will miss us…. No one will know.”
“I’ll know,” I said. I felt uneasy, unsure about how he would feel about this declaration. Maybe now he would see that I really was a goody-two-shoes.
His head dropped and rolled to the side. He looked at me with only his left eye and clicked his tongue while sighing. His eyes closed and his head hung again. The silence seemed thick as the moments pressed on. I knew he was planning his “farewell to Christy” speech. After all, he could only put up with so much, for so long. I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to prepare for the rejection. I didn’t know if I could.
Alex made me feel so good, but I had to let him go. I already knew this but had been putting off the inevitable. Couldn’t I bend my own rules to accommodate him, just this once? Just this once? Who was I kidding? I had already bent the rules with him several times and it had only led to heartache. Maybe now he would be saying goodbye, not me. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes.
He looked at me, lips pressed together but slightly up in the corners. He pushed air through his nose as
he gave in to a stifled laugh.
“Only you, Christy,” he said. “Only you would think like that. Maybe that’s why I like you so much. I’ve never met anyone who had such strong convictions. I surrender.”
My eyebrows rose involuntarily, and I gave a big smile—I couldn’t help it. He had said it again. He liked me. My insides were all a buzz, and I felt like jumping up and down. It was good, once more, that I didn’t. Taking my hand, he pulled me up, all thoughts of telling him goodbye disappeared and we walked back into the debate arena.
Sitting back in my seat, something tugged at my gut. I felt the weight of the murder fall back onto my shoulders like a backpack full of stones. I slumped under the imagined weight of it. Feeling that the answers were just out of reach, made it even harder. I was missing something.
“We’ll start with Senator Randolph’s bill involving farmers’ aid,” the Emcee announced.
I sat upright and looked around to see if anyone had heard what I thought I’d heard. “Again, we will be starting with Senator Randolph’s bill involving farmers’ aid.”
All the documents I’d read about this bill sorted themselves automatically in my mind as they always did before a debate and only the important details popped off the page for me to organize into a five minute “rah rah” speech as I walked to the podium. I tried to pull out the points that would cause the most discussion and to voice them in a way that would rile even the softest of competitors. I wanted to hear what this group knew about this bill. Maybe the group could fill in some of the blanks.
Good thing I hadn’t skipped out of this place with Alex.
My delivery was flawless, as always, and it appeared to have excited a lot of conversation, especially the idea of letting other countries shoulder the risk for our farmers. The implication that they would also reap the rewards hung out there like a chandelier held up with a cotton thread.
A line of kids assigned to oppose the legislation formed at the bottom of the stage. I sat behind the podium in a seat provided for the people who introduced bills. I closed my eyes and listened intently, for anything I hadn’t thought of already. It seemed like forever had come and gone when I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. It had been forty minutes—only five more minutes until I had to stand and give my closing remarks. The ten students who had expressed their opposition had given me nothing. Nothing new that is. I watched a short boy with extremely blond hair and glasses walk up to the podium.
“Please, please, give me something, anything,” I said under my breath. I listened, staring at the back of his head. He did give me something. He talked about renewable resources and how our farmland was our only hope for our country’s future, especially when it came to energy. Oil wasn’t renewable, but things like bio-diesel and ethanol were. That was it. I felt all excited.
Energy—it all had to do with energy. The terrorists didn’t need bombs, swords and missiles to bring America to its knees, it only needed its resources. Right as it got interesting, the moderator interrupted him and sent him to his seat.
It was my turn again. I had to tout the bill and couldn’t blast it, so I decided to be sly in what I said. I would almost be sarcastic, pretending to sell the bill. Hopefully, the absurdity of what I would say would open the audience’s minds to the danger of it. Hopefully, they would go home and discuss what I had to say with their parents and friends and whomever would listen. Hopefully.
My mind finished spinning the tale I was about to put out to the five hundred plus people listening. For the first time in a debate, I had an aching desire to have people really hear what I had to say, and it was late in the day. How could I make them listen?
An amazing thing happened when I stood at the podium. Something incredible—It was like some powerful, unseen force gave me the words to say—like whatever or whoever guided me, didn’t want the terrorists to win either. The words flowed without effort from my mouth.
When I finished, I stepped away from the podium and left the stage. Descending the steps, voices rumbled all around me. It seemed everyone was talking to someone. I turned toward the audience and five hundred pairs of eyes stared at me. I smiled despite myself. They had understood. They must have. I murmured my thanks to my unseen helper. The audience’s eyes followed my every step, until the Emcee announced the next bill.
As I started up the aisle that led to my seat, I noticed a man by the doors, staring down at me. After what seemed a thousand steps, I could finally make out his face. Iceman. The terrorists were still out there. I guess the sting at the Pizzeria really didn’t have to do with them at all. I passed my seat and kept climbing. I zeroed in on his face and didn’t let my eyes wander. I sped up. His eyes locked on mine until I was only ten steps from him and he turned and ran.
Something broke inside me, fury took over. If what I suspected the whole bloody ballroom scene was about, was correct, not only would the Middle East continue to tie our hands with their control of most of the oil we used in the U.S., but they would also bring us to our knees with the control of our farmland and our renewable energy sources, even though I didn’t know exactly how.
Iceman rushed out the door of the auditorium. I wasn’t far behind.
He ran fast. I blasted down the stairs, skipping as many as I could and plowed out the doors to the sidewalk. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw his black jacket turn down an alley some way down the street. I ran flat out until I turned the corner. He wasn’t there. I walked full of purpose down the alley and found I could only turn left.
He stood, facing me at the far end of the alley. Had I trapped him? I hesitated, but only for a second. I refused to be a victim any longer. I had control of my reactions and I would no longer be afraid. My heart stampeded out of my chest, and I pulled hard for air. Fists balled, I flew toward him anyway.
At about the half-way mark, I started to shout at him.
“Why are you following me and my friends? Why? Stay away from us!”
He didn’t say anything, his face had a puzzled look on it—a curious look, and then he disappeared down another alley. He wasn’t trapped after all. I picked up the pace and tried to follow him. The alley led to another sidewalk and street. He was gone.
I screamed as loud as I could, head back and arms stiff at my sides. I heard doors and windows open and saw faces looking through them at me. I didn’t even care. I stood there in all my indignant anger. I let it wash over me and if people hadn’t been staring, I probably would have dropped to the ground and bawled. I didn’t know what I thought I’d do to him once I got to him, but I hated him for intruding on my last day in D.C. The reality that the FBI hadn’t picked up the terrorists, pressed on me like a thousand pound weight and I realized we were still in danger.
I walked slowly out of the maze I had blindly run into, surprised at the distance I’d gone. It hadn’t seemed so far moments ago. My pounding heart slowed as I got closer to the conference center I’d fled.
I saw my reflection in the glass doors of the building. Yikes! I needed some touch up. Bathroom, here I come.
I splashed water on my face and dabbed it dry, pulled at my hair and straightened it as much as I could. The hair next to my neck curled from the sweat that wetted it. I tried to dry it with paper towels and then fixed my clothes. My thoughts went wild.
I chased Iceman. He could’ve killed me. How could I have been so reckless? Why had he looked at me like that?
Walking out the door, a familiar face met mine. Nathan’s, one of the FBI guys. He swooshed his arms toward the boy’s bathroom.
“Do you want me to—.”
He nodded. I pushed the door open and went in. Jeremy stood there, shaking his head. He pushed a button on a little pen looking thing and then railed on me.
“What were you thinking just now? Running after a crazy man can’t lead to anything good. He could have killed you, you know.”
I did know.
“Sorry,” I said. “I just lost it. I thought you guys got
the bad guys last night at the Pizzeria and coming up those steps after discovering what the terrorists were really up to…. And I saw him looking at me and lost it—”
“Pizzeria? What are you talking about?” Jeremy interrupted.
Was he faking it or did he really not know what happened at the pizzeria?
“You know, the raid. The one you all dressed up like DEA agents to carry out.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? I thought for sure it was you guys.” I wasn’t sure what to believe. The terrorists had me so paranoid, I’d never have a moments peace.
“It wasn’t.”
“Huh… Well, figuring out why they killed that guy Jonathan made me so mad, something flipped and I had to go after him. I refuse to be afraid anymore and I wanted answers.” My words made me seem braver than I was.
“You figured it out, did you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Are you going to make me drag it out of you?”
“No. Sorry. This bill takes farmland and puts it into the hands of corporations, foreign corporations, instead of individuals. About ten companies are mentioned by name as the only possible purchasers of the land. It doesn’t seem so bad until you find out that they are companies whose owners are Middle Eastern with ties to their government. If they gain control of our lands, we would lose almost all control of our renewable resources.”
“Hmpf,” he said.
“It’s just a guess, but I bet I’m on the right track. Can you imagine what would happen?”
“Christy, please, don’t worry about it, and don’t you dare do anything so stupid again.”
“Okay. I’ll try, but it bugs me so much. We would be impoverished and starve. It would be like going back in time to before the industrial age. America would no longer be a superpower.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t have to worry about it, isn’t it? Leave this to us. Okay?”
“But ….”
“Okay?!”
“Whatever, but I know I’m onto….”
“Yes, but you are going to forget about that something and just enjoy your last day here—right? Right?”
“Fine.”
“Christy, we have it all under control. As soon as you guys are out of here, we’ll move on these guys and they’ll be gone for good. It’s not your problem anymore. Don’t make it one again. And it wasn’t our thing at the pizza place.”
I just looked at him. I didn’t know what to say.
He knocked on the door and waited. About a minute later, a knock came from the other side of the door, and Jeremy opened it for me. I walked out to find Nathan picking up a sign that said, Closed for cleaning. Smart move.
“Now,” Jeremy continued. “Go have some fun!” He pulled out the pen-looking thing and clicked it again. I wondered if it somehow disabled any bugs near us.
After finding my seat, the girl next to me handed me a note. It read:
Guess you figured it out. Way to go. Thomas.
I looked his way and he smiled at me. I nodded and smiled back. After folding the note, I shoved it into my pocket. As I did, I felt some paper in there and pulled it out.
Pink paper. Oh yeah, the dry-cleaning receipt. How much had it cost me to clean Marybeth’s clothes? I smoothed it out on my desk. Twenty bucks. Uggh! That was so much money. I had to lean back in my chair to digest the information. I guess it had been worth it. I wanted to check to make sure I hadn’t read it wrong and picked it up to examine it again. Yep, twenty dollars. Unbelievable. Then I noticed something scrawled in the middle of the receipt. I had to look closely to read it with all the wrinkles in the paper. It read:
Be careful what you say and who you say it to.
I gasped.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
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