He nodded.
“In any given trial, there are at least six people. There are three witnesses and three lawyers. Others can be on the team for research and consultation. Or we can rotate people for various competitions until we make it to states. And we will make it to states. Any questions so far?”
They shook their heads.
“Mm-hmm,” murmured Jeffrey.
“Our season starts in about six weeks. We have one meet in February and one in March. Then districts are the week after that. Those are the three that we will focus on because we know for sure we’ll be competing. We win our district, we go to states. After states—nationals.”
“Thanks, Millie. Great summary. Everyone got it?”
More nodding.
Then Mr. Darr divided us into teams. Jeffrey, Brandon, two sophomores, and one freshman and I formed the first. There were two other teams of six as well.
“Three lawyers and three witnesses,” I said to Brandon. “This is great for the future of the program! We can rotate the sophomores and freshmen. And that one junior over there could be groomed for lawyer. Or, if you want to have a research team, those can be the guys who want lawyer next year.”
“Yeah,” said Brandon. He didn’t look up from doodling in his notebook.
His flippant attitude annoyed me. They supposedly led this team. I was just the secretary of the group. (I didn’t think the graduating seniors should have voted on the executive board officers of the club, since they wouldn’t even be here this year. Why did they get a say in secretary and treasurer, let alone president or vice president? But I didn’t have to be in charge. I’d learned freshman year that I could more effectively lead the team from behind the scenes, and Emilia Goodwin was nothing if not a team player.)
“Maybe we should swap out lawyers as well,” I said. “One per competition. Two of us with experience could be at each trial, right? We’d only miss one each. I think it’s important to get as many people participating as possible, because having this much interest in Mock Trial only bodes well for the future of government, don’t you—”
“Millie,” Jeffrey interrupted, “I’ve been meaning to address this issue.”
I blinked at him. Oh, had he now? He could have mentioned this months ago, when I’d first asked about recruitment. Or last week. But this is how Jeffrey operated.
Jeffrey cleared his throat. “Excuse me, everyone?” He stood up and clapped his hands. “I have an announcement.” Everyone turned to look at him. Mr. Darr glanced up from the papers he’d been grading.
“It’s amazing that there are so many of us on the team this year. But as you know, only six people can actually participate in a trial as a lawyer or a witness. So, we’ve decided to have a competition team, some understudies, and a research crew.”
“What?” I said. “Why can’t everyone get trial experience? We could make it work.”
“No, this is the way it should be. We are going to audition for spots on the trial team,” said Jeffrey.
“Audition?” Heat crept under my sweater and blouse to the buckles of the latest mom-guilt brand shoes. “How long did you know about this?” I looked up at Jeffrey, who was still standing over me.
He smiled. “We’ve been knocking around a few ideas.”
“And who is this ‘we,’ exactly? Last I knew, I was still the secretary and had a say in these kinds of things.”
“We didn’t want to stress you out,” said Brandon. “You have a lot going on.”
I did? All I had going on was Mock Trial. I barely even saw my best friend anymore, as she was busy trying to take over the Drama Club from the president.
A gross feeling clawed its way up from my stomach. I fought it down. This might not be the end of the world. It sucked for the freshmen who’d be saddled with research. I’d been in that position. But preparation never killed anyone.
“Fine,” I said. Best for a team player to keep the peace. “What are we having these guys do, exactly?”
“Oh. Well. We’ll all be auditioning. Each one of us. Only the best people should be on the team, don’t you agree?”
I frowned. Yes, I agreed. But I also knew that the chances of the Steelers winning the Super Bowl after an undefeated season were higher than Jeffrey’s definition of “best” matching mine.
“So, Mr. Darr has found a case for us to argue, with some witness statements to practice and such. We’ll audition Wednesday.”
“One day to prepare?” I said. “One. Day. What? Mr. Darr, you knew about this?”
“I’m sorry, Millie. I thought you had agreed to this,” he said. “I would say we could hold off a bit, but we really should have the team set. The first trial isn’t that far away.”
My mouth dropped open. Brandon didn’t look surprised. Most of the other guys in the room didn’t, either. Had they planned this? Why wouldn’t they include me? Especially Mr. Darr? I was the hardest worker on this team. I’d single-handedly brought down the toughest witness Fogton Creek had to offer last spring. Was this some sort of horrible joke?
“You can grab the audition materials on the way out,” said Brandon.
“Why don’t we just use the actual case?” I said.
“It’ll be fine,” said Jeffrey. “I’m sure everything will work out the way it is supposed to.”
The last time I’d heard that, Dad had been trying to talk us both into the fact that Mom didn’t really want the divorce, that she’d leave her new contractor boyfriend and come home within the month.
She married the contractor exactly seven months later.
After the bell rang, I gathered my stuff and ripped the stupid audition case file out of Brandon’s hand on my way out. I hoped I gave him a paper cut that would get infected and his arm would turn bright green or something. I glanced over the sheets.
“A death-penalty case? Are you serious? We would never see a death-penalty case in competition,” I said.
“Talking to yourself?” said a voice.
I realized I’d walked straight to Claire’s locker. “Get this. There was a boy coup d’état. I have to audition for the team.”
“Welcome to my world,” said Claire.
I glared at her.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just that ridiculous Raina is a mess. She isn’t even trying at all.”
“It was probably Brandon’s fault. The Mock Trial VP. Apparently, he likes ruining things.”
“Yeah,” said Claire, unable to hide her disgust. “Clearly.”
“I can help you run lines?” I said. That usually made her feel better.
“I don’t know if I can bring myself to speak this shit out loud.” She shook her script at the sky.
“Well, then maybe you can help me. Do you happen to know anything about lethal injection?”
Claire threw me a blank look.
“Yeah. Me either.”
A stone sank from my brain to my throat and settled somewhere behind my appendix. Several more rolled out of my brain and wedged themselves around internal organs until I felt like they filled my body from head to toe. I barely managed to lift my feet to get in the car and go home.