Page 12 of All Signs Point to Malibu

The crowd acknowledges the sick burn and as much as I’d like to revel in the win, something in her expression makes me feel a tad guilty for calling her out like that. Just a tad. Or maybe it was the burrito I ate late last night after dropping Sasha at home, making my insides churn. Either way, my sympathy capacity for Hailey Harris is not enough to give it another thought.

Hailey checks her bajillion pages, skips a dozen or so, composes herself and continues. “Excellence is something we can all achieve. It just takes hard work, commitment, dedication, and perseverance.”

I should let it go. I’ve got one win. Still, my mouth is on autopilot. “Today’s society is putting so much pressure on people. This hustle culture isn’t healthy or sustainable.”

Hailey turns to face me again, her cool dissipating quickly. The front of my dress pants pulsates when her laser beam gaze tries to pin me in place. Riled-up Hailey is kinda a turn-on.

“Says the man who doesn’t get out of bed until noon.”

Oh, now it’s getting personal.

“I’m just saying failure is not a fatal flaw. If it takes a little longer to achieve one’s goals, that’s okay. Life is not a race.”

“You also can’t stand still. There is nothing worse than having a great idea or product and failing to bring it to market before someone else,” she says pointedly—to the crowd this time.

Damn, I cued her up for that one.

“We all know posting online is solely for praise and recognition,” I say, running out of fuel.

“Successful people post to inspire and encourage others,” she says turning to look at me again. “There’s no shame in bragging about personal achievements and I think we need to normalize being proud of ourselves and whatI’veachieved.”

And there it is.

Hailey realizes what she’s said and coughs. “Whata personachieves...”

Every argumentative fiber in my being wants to keep this debate going. I’m getting more turned on as we go. By the fight, not Hailey Harris—just to be clear, but I notice that the teachers and students are staring at us and I don’t need a boner to fuel Hailey’s ego.

I clear my throat and address the students. “I’ll just say that sports are hugely important and not just for those of you hoping to go into professional athletic careers. Sports teach life skills and discipline. But it’s also meant to be fun. If you’re not enjoying it, what’s the point?”

“What’s the point?” Hailey scoffs. “Success, financial security... Some of us weren’t born into luxury.”

“Says the woman who lives in a multimillion-dollar mansion.”

Somehow, we’ve moved closer to one another as we’ve been speaking and Mrs. Miller quickly stands and moves us back toward our respective podiums before things turn physical.

Kinda a shame. I’d like to see what she’s got.

“Well, that was great,” the teacher says. “Really...insightful and informative. Right, students?”

Pretty sure this speech was scheduled for an hour. I check my watch. Hailey and I have failed at the task epically enough to be cut short by forty-six minutes. I lower my head and stare at the gymnasium floor.

A low rumble through the crowd and half-hearted applause confirm the kids thought the whole thing was complete bullshit. Not a token of wisdom to be had between us.

Hailey and I have the decency to at least look suitably embarrassed.

I can’t let things end this way. I lean toward the mic. “I’d like to conclude by offering a donation of five thousand dollars to the sports program.”

Now the crowd cheers for real.

Hailey rises to the challenge. “I’ll match that donation for the social and technology clubs.”

More applause.

“Did I say five? I meant ten.”

Hailey stammers slightly but, chin raised, she nods. “I’ll match that amount.”

Behind us, the teachers look flabbergasted by our generosity. Mrs. Miller steps forward, but Coach Green stops her.

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