Page 73 of Demon Kissed
I glance down at my topics, which are all incredibly personal and uncomfortable. “Rigged!” I want to shout, but I can’t.
My topics?
Is love real or an illusion?
Is true love the outcome of fate or choice?
If fate determines love, then can you forgive your love if they betray you? Or is betrayal simply a part of that fate?
Shit.
I close my eyes and point, letting my finger control my destiny. And I land on the last damn topic. Fuck my life.
I quickly try to organize my thoughts, gather them up.
All too soon, it’s my turn to speak. With sweaty palms, I clutch my index card like it’s a lifeline. I make my way to the front of the room. I try to do the smile thing like William did, but I’m pretty sure that it looks more like a grimace.
I read my topic aloud and then start.
“This topic operates on a lot of assumptions that are counterintuitive to most Americans. We tend to believe in free will and forging our own destiny. But if some outside force has predetermined whom we love, then why wouldn’t they also predetermine our pain? If they have control over one emotion, why not both? If our lives are actually predetermined, I’d argue that fury or forgiveness are also predetermined. Maybe we aren’t in control of anything at all.” My eyes scan the room and lock onto William’s. He’s sitting there, slack-jawed, as if…he’s in awe. Of me.
Suddenly, my feet aren’t sure they’re touching the floor. I feel so light, I’m sure I must be floating. I continue, “It’s rather boring to think that everything is known, though, isn’t it? Where’s the fun in that? If everything is predetermined and there’s no free will, then there’s also no real surprises or excitement for God or the supernatural being doing all the choosing. And isn’t surprise one of the best parts of existence? I hope that fate isn’t in charge of love, because I think if it is, it loses a lot of its value.” My eyes skip hesitantly over to Kastros to see how I’m doing.
His deep brown eyes drill right into mine. I keep our connection as I say, “Personally, I want love to be a choice.”
Kastros holds up a fist to signal that my time has ended. I nod at him and then take my seat. My cheeks flame up as soon as I sit down, even though Tim pats me on the back.
“Dude, great job,” he compliments.
“You were okay.” Wade can never truly say anything nice; he doesn’t have it in him. But the grumpy man does give me a smile. “Not as good as I’m gonna be though.”
I sigh, just glad the spotlight is off of me.
The rest of the speeches, sans those by Janie’s crew, are pretty smooth sailing. We are all pretty evenly matched. Of course, most of us have been practicing all year.
Janie has to go last. And when she stands up, all of her earlier swagger is lost. She practically hisses when she tells us her topic—why intellect is more important than beauty.
I have to use my hand to cover the snicker that comes over me. Oh, shit. I thought Kastros rigged my speech, but this,thisis perfection.
Watching Janie struggle to justify the antithesis of her very existence is like getting a free pass at a bakery to eat anything you want. It’s goddamned decadent.
High-fiving Kastros would be inappropriate, but I do send him an appreciative smile. To my surprise, I get one in return.
Once her stumbling speech is over and Janie has flounced back to her seat, Kastros walks to the board. He writes,5 minute break. Then we will start the super quiz.
I go get water at the fountain in the hall, because if round one was that intense, I can only imagine what two is gonna look like.
When I get back, William and Janie are gone. But so is half the room. Tim and Wade aren’t in their seats either.
I sit down and roll my neck, ready to dish out some factoids.
Kastros slides a scantron onto each desk. Most of them are empty, but when he slides mine toward me, his fingers brush over the back of my hand. I glance up sharply, then to the side, to see if anyone else has noticed. He can’t be doing that! He’s my teacher, or so they think anyway.
But everyone is just snagging pencils from their bags or slowly trailing in. I grab my own pencil and then hunch over my scantron, ready to earn my spot. But I notice a small note at the top, just above the bubbles.
I liked your speech. I, too, would rather think love is a choice, not a curse.
For some reason, reading that makes me smile. Inside, it feels like I’ve just watched half an hour ofFunniest Home Videosand am sagging in contentment on the couch, ribs sore from laughter, but completely at peace.
