Page 83 of Love is a Game

Pen shoots me a confused look, but can hardly refuse Mom’s brisk, authoritative instructions.

The debate room is eerily familiar, like time stood still. Same wooden desks. Same old podium. Same quote still clinging to the patchy white wall: “It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.”

A handful of students are already inside, talking in small groups, curiously glancing up as we enter.

“Hey! What’s up Pen, Tuck?” Finn grins from his seat in the corner.

Molly’s beside him, along with a bespeckled girl blatantly filing her nails like she’sthatbored. Three other kids lounge around in that slouchy way teenagers have—like their bodies are way too heavy to keep upright for very long.

Mom claps her hands.

“Alright, everyone, listen up—er, Finn, feet off the desk, please. Tracy, can you pause the manicure a moment and engage? Thank you. Okay—since we’re heading into the championship round against Stratton High next week, I thought it would be valuable to hear from two of Blue Mountain Lake’s finest former debaters.”

Mom turns to us.

“Welcome our special guests, Penelope Miller and my son, Tuck. They were an unstoppable debating force back in their day.”

Pen tilts her head at me. “‘Unstoppable force’?” she murmurs. “Is that what we were?”

I smirk. Guess Mom’s using some poetic liberties. Because if I remember right, my teachers had a much more colorful vocabulary for me that they liked to mutter under their breath.

Mom goes on to split the kids into two teams, indicating for Finn and Molly’s group to take the affirmative of the topic, the others, against.

Then, she goes to the whiteboard and writes the topic in neat capitals:

“DIFFERENCE ISN’T DIVISION—IT’S STRENGTH”

I flick a glance at Pen. She processes the words, shifting her weight slightly, but says nothing.

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes to strategize and research,” Mom explains. “Use Penelope and Tuck as sounding boards. They’ve been where you are. Tap into their experience.”

Molly smirks at us. “Guess we’ll see if the old legends still have it.”

Pen finally cracks a grin. “Molly, I’ll take ‘legend’ anytime, but I’d reconsider the ‘old’ if you want the full benefit of our expertise. Wouldn’t want any unfortunate favoritism influencing our judgment when we pick a winner.”

Molly lifts a brow. “Oh, shit—I mean, gosh, you guys definitely aren’told!I totally meant, like,accomplished.”

Mom claps her hands again.

“Each team has three members. One will deliver the opening argument, one will handle rebuttals, and the last will wrap it up with a strong closing statement.”

She turns to Pen and me. “You two can help coach them as they prepare.”

As the groups split off, conversation fills the room. Finn flips open his laptop as he, Molly, and Tracy get down to trading ideas.

I listen in on their brainstorming session as Pen chats with the opposing team.

Finn leans back in his chair. “It’s well evidenced that diversity makes us stronger. Different skills, perspectives, experiences—it’s how innovation happens, how societies thrive.”

“Good foundation,” I say. “But you need a strong opening statement. Something irrefutable. Who’s leading?”

“Me,” Tracy pipes up. “I was thinking of starting with an example—maybe sports? How teams need different players with unique skills?”

I nod. “That works, but make it personal. People engage more when they can relate. Ever played on a team where someone’s unexpected skill saved the game?”

Tracy’s eyes light up. “Oh!Bugsy, our star basketball player. Everyone underestimated him because he’s pretty short. He doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the team. But he worked with our coach and turned it into a strength.”

“How so?” I ask.

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