Page 30 of The Academy
October
9. Friday Night Lights
Audre would never say so out loud for fear of sounding both cringey and immodest, but Friday night’s game against Northmeadow offersimmaculate fall football vibes.All of Tiffin’s sugar maples are aflame with color, and the brilliance of the leaves is enhanced by the sun setting over the Pasture; the evening air is just crisp enough for Audre to wear her green-and-gold Thoroughbreds sweatshirt (available from the school store for $34.95). Royce Stringfellow, in addition to being one of the top students in the fifth-form, is a gifted sports announcer; he’s up in the booth with Tilly Benbow, who’s in charge of the pregame pump-up songs. Three food trucks—tacos, fried chicken, and frozen custard—are set up on the far side of the home stands to feed the masses so Chef can have a well-deserved night off.
Tiffin students stomp on the metal treads of the bleachers when Tilly plays “We Will Rock You.”Is Tiffin about to make school history,Audre wonders,with its winningest season ever?
She takes a sustaining breath—she can do this, shemustdo this—and strolls over to the visitors’ side to greet Northmeadow’s Head of School, Douglas Worth. Northmeadow students call him “Worthless”—and not without reason, Audre thinks. A caricature artist would have a field day with Doug: His abnormally large head is set on a long, slender stalk of a body. (Whenever Audre looks at Doug, she gets an involuntary vision of what his penis must looklike.) Doug always wears a bow tie, even to football games. This is a sartorial affectation that Doug plagiarized from his father, George Worth, who served as Northmeadow’s Head for a whopping forty-two years. There’s a way in which Doug’s earnest imitation of his father is both endearing and pathetic.
“Audre,” Doug says, offering a long, limp hand, which Audre shakes a bit more aggressively than she needs to. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”
If her years at Tiffin have taught Audre anything, it’s how to offer a convincing smile. “The game hasn’t even begun.”
“I meant because of your number two ranking inAmerica Today,” Doug says. “I’ve been puzzling over it since the list came out, trying to figure out how Tiffin managed such a coup.”
“No one was more surprised than me,” Audre says. “I wish I could explain it, but as you know, the algorithm is a mystery.”
“I’m not sure it’sexactlya mystery,” Doug says. “I’ve put a good deal of thought into why Tiffin jumped from nineteen to number two, while Northmeadowdroppedfrom two to three…”
Should Audre remind Doug that Heads are supposed to be indifferent to the rankings? Though naturally theyaren’tindifferent, and especially not Doug, and especially not this year.
“… and I came up with three possible explanations.”
Audre can’t help but take the bait: She wants to hear these so-called explanations, but Tilly chooses that moment to blast DJ Khaled’s “All I Do Is Win.” Audre motions for Doug to move behind the visitors’ side bleachers where it’s slightly quieter.
“Oh, have you?” She looks up to see a couple members of the Northmeadow marching band peering down at them, and she realizes how unusual it must look—two Heads sneaking behind the bleachers to conduct a tête-à-tête. Audre gives the kid holding a French horn a wave, letting him know this is all on the up-and-up.“I love that you bring the marching band. I love that youhavea marching band. We never have enough musicians to field one.”
“I suppose Tiffin students are too cool for that sort of thing,” Doug says.
There’s probably some truth to that statement, Audre thinks; “marching band” has a stigma that most Tiffin students would want to avoid. Audre then recalls that Doug plays the trombone; he’s been known to whip it out at the Independent Schools of New England Coalition’s social gatherings. “You were saying? The three ‘explanations’?”
Doug squints at the players who are stretching on the field.Oh no you don’t,Audre thinks. “You brought it up, Doug. You can’t just leave me in suspense.”
“Well… one explanation is that theAmerica Todayeditors wanted to show support for diversity.”
“Tiffin is no more or less diverse than other top schools…”
“I’m talking about leadership,” Doug says.
Audre’s cheeks burn like she’s been slapped. “Me, you mean? You think our ranking rose because I’m a person ofcolor?” Isn’t it just like Doug to assume Audre has been rewarded solely because of her race. God, he’s reprehensible.
As he sputters something along the lines of that’s not, of course, what hemeant,Audre says, “I’m in my sixth year, Doug. I hardly think that had anything to do with it.” She turns away from Worthless and looks across the football field at her student body. Tiffin doesn’t have a marching band, nor do they have cheerleaders, but they don’t lack for school spirit: Davi and her friends are leading the crowd in some kind of chant.
Doug follows her gaze. “Then, of course, there’s your TikTok phenom. She has one point three million followers. Can you imagine a sixteen-year-old girl wielding that kind of influence?”
What Audre thinks but does not say is:You’ve checked Davi’s following?
“You thinkAmerica Todayranked us above you”—Audre pauses to emphasize that she knows it’sthisfact that chafes him; if Northmeadow had been number one and Tiffin number two, Worthless would have sent Audre flowers—“because of Davi Banerjee?”
“She’s very charismatic,” Doug says.
Audre barks out a laugh. Has Douglas Worth watched Davi’s TikTok content? Her OOTDs? Her makeup tutorials? “She’s one of the most dynamic students at this school,” Audre says. “However, I highly doubt that’s why…”
“There’s only one other explanation,” Doug says. “Which is that the president of your board, Jesse Eastman, bribed somebody.”
Just when Audre thinks the man can’t dig a deeper hole, he reaches for a bigger shovel. Audre spins on Douglas Worth and affixes him with a death stare—even though she has also wondered if this was the case. Jesse Eastman wields all kinds of power. Hecouldhave bribed the people who create the rankings atAmerica Today.Everyone has a price, especially underpaid journalists covering the education beat. But Audre recalls how on edge Jesse was the day the rankings came out; he had sounded as shocked and incredulous as Audre herself.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Audre says.
