A/N: Reviewers rock!
Disclaimer: Same as always.
Chapter: 2 Tryouts
"You ready yet?" Maria called out to Liz who was getting dressed in the tiny bathroom inside their dorm room.
"Just about," Liz shouted from behind the closed door. She had changed her clothes several times before finally deciding on a pair of blue jeans and grey Kenmont sweatshirt. She was now in the process of pulling her long dark hair back into a ponytail. Dabbing on peach colored lip gloss, Liz took one more look into the mirror. She'd achieved the look she was aiming for, understated college student.
Liz exited the bathroom and stepped into the bedroom. She noticed that Maria was wearing another one of her flowing skirts. This one was in red. "I'm ready," Liz said grabbing her backpack off the bed.
"You nervous?" Maria asked.
"Not really. You?"
"A little," Maria shrugged, her expression saying the opposite.
"I'm sure it will go fine," Liz reassured her. She'd been ecstatic to find out Maria was a debater too. Not only had she acquired a cool roommate, but one she shared a common interest with.
"You're probably right," Maria agreed with a bright smile. "But we should get a move on. I heard Professor Nichols has a thing about punctuality." She grimaced.
-&-
Ten minutes later Liz and Maria entered Hurston hall. It was huge. It kinda reminded Liz of a thrust stage auditorium. The podium was dead center while the seats were divided by one middle row with adjacent rows on the left and right with aisles separating them.
"Let's get seats near the front," Maria suggested. "I want to make sure I don't miss a word. I've heard these tryouts are legendary." What she didn't was: So I won't have to walk too far to reach the podium.
None the less, Liz understood and agreed. "Sure. Why not."
They quickly took seats in the fourth row and watched a tall, willowy, sharp faced, salt and pepper haired man, take the stage.
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen," he said. "I welcome you all to Kenmont College. My name is Professor Charles Nichols," he smiled briefly causing tiny lines to bracket deep blue eyes. "For those of you who are unfamiliar with me, I am an exacting taskmaster."
Several murmurs of agreement could be heard from the peanut gallery.
"I expect you're A game at all times," he continued once the murmurs died down. "That said, when I call your name come up here and pick a topic from the bowl that Max here is holding," he indicated the dark haired guy seated at the end of the first row.
"Be prepared to speak for five minutes. And remember ladies and gentlemen, he said to the forty or so students within the hall. "There are only twenty slots on this debate team. Several have already been filled with previous members. So if you want to make the team this year…"
Bring it! Was what Nichols didn't say. Instead, he hoped down from the stage and took a seat next to the dark haired guy holding the bowl. Glancing over the list of potential names, Nichols called out, "Miss Parker you're up."
What rotten luck, Liz thought as she made her way down the aisle. Not that her debate skills were in question, that wasn't even an issue. Liz just didn't want to go first. Oh well, she sighed inwardly, beggars can't be choosers.
Liz reached the front row quickly. Too quickly in her estimation. Pausing to look at the guy who held the infamous bowl, she blushed when he winked at her. Brimming with irritation and embarrassment, Liz grabbed a folded sheet of paper from the bowl and made her way to the stage. She didn't unfold it until she stood behind the podium.
"Should Criminal Lawyers be allowed to defend clients they know are guilty," she read from the paper.
"Absolutely not!" She stared into the crowd her voice ringing with conviction. "It is this kind of personal dishonesty that is destroying the very fabric of our legal system. It puts dangerous criminals back on the street where they can steal, and rape, and kill again. But worst of all," she said passionately, "It erodes our faith in justice."
"Now take the other side," said Professor Nichols.
"It doesn't matter if you're guilty or innocent. You have an inalienable right to legal counsel and you're lawyer has a duty to provide it. To take away a person's right to be defended because some lawyer has judged them guilty, is to deny this person due process of law." Liz finished strongly.
Thunderous applause as well as several whistles followed. Liz knew she had nailed it. However, she did not allow herself to rejoice until she received a slight nod of approval from Professor Nichols. Liz was walking on air as she exited the stage.
"Oh my God Liz! You were so great," Maria said sincerely as she reclaimed her seat next to the blonde.
Liz shrugged modestly. "I just did the best I could." But deep inside she knew she was good.
-&-
Max couldn't get the petite debater out of his head. Not only was she a great debater, she was awfully cute too. Could be hot even, if she applied herself. He kept trying to catch a glimpse of her but stopped when Nichols frowned. As captain of the debate team it was Max's job to help with selecting team members. In other words, he really needed to pay attention to the other debaters.
Too bad he's tuned out at around the tenth one. However, their voices droned on like worker bees distracting him from his objective. Glancing back again, he noticed Michael enter the hall and take a seat in the back row. Max shook his head. Must be skipping Political Science again, he thought. Professor Nichols cleared his throat, and Max tried to refocus his attention on the debaters. It was going to be a long day.
-&-
Michael slid into the back row virtually unnoticed. God, he hated Political Science! They were only a week into the school semester and he'd cut twice already. Michael didn't hate the class per say, but he did hate the Professor. Finch was a little know-it-all with a Hitler complex. In short, the guy was an Asshole.
Michael had little patients for Assholes.
He knew he would eventually have to drop the class. But for now, he chose to seek out the debate team for comic relief. There was nothing funnier than watching kiss-ass debate groupies follow Max around like he was God. Michael settled back into his seat and waited for the entertainment to begin.
-&-
Maria mentally braced herself as Professor Nichols called her name. You can do this, she silently chanted. Taking a deep breath, she slid passed Liz and made her way to the front row. She quickly grabbed a sheet of paper and limped on stage with her bad leg dragging behind her.
Glancing down at the paper and back up again, she launched humorously into her topic.
"I'm here my friends to urge you all to bring back public hanging," she said and paused as the audience tittered in bemusement. "No I'm serious," she said, her smile belying her words. "How else are we going to convince criminals we are playing for keeps?"
"I can just picture it as the newest 'Reality Show'. Stay tuned for this Friday Night's hanging of the week, on Who Wants to Be a Criminal," she said in mocking voice-over. "I mean come on guys, who wouldn't watch it?" Maria arched a blonde brow. "Certainly the people who watch Who Wants To Marry a Midget, Who Wants To Marry My Dad, and last but not least the Bachelor."
This garnered several genuine laughs and smiles.
"They'll even have a celebrity judge present each week to inform the audience when the criminal is dead. As if it were not already apparent from the drool running out of the side of his mouth," she said drolly.
"That's quite enough, Miss DeLuca," the Professor said interrupting her. "I see by your transcripts you had some success as a public speaker in high school. Unfortunately, we don't grant points for sympathy at Kenmont."
The room was instantly blanketed by an uncomfortable silence.
"I don't expect any sympathy," Maria said calmly.
"No? What makes you so special? All the handicapped I know thrive on sympathy," Nichols eyed her challengingly.
"I don't consider myself handicapped," Maria said angrily. "This happened when I was ten," she indicated her leg. "A drunk driver hit our car and shattered my left hip bone."
"Miss DeLuca," Professor Nichols put up his hand to stop her. Sometimes he liked to provoke new students into speaking their mind. But he'd never meant for it to go this far.
"No. You will listen to me," Maria continued. "The doctors told my parents I would never sit up again let alone walk. But I ignored them all. I worked eight hours a day in rehab for over two years before sensation came back to my leg," she slammed her fist on the podium and it caused her to stumble.
"Be careful Miss DeLuca," Nichols cautioned.
"No you be careful. Be careful who you label a cripple. Because I will walk normal again someday. I'll even dance again someday. So don't' any of you DARE feel sorry for me," she addressed this to the entire audience. "Cause I won't fucking stand for it."
Maria limped off the stage to a standing ovation. She's also unknowingly caught the attention of one Michael Guerin.
-&-
Nearly an hour later tryouts were over. The hall was quickly clearing out as the last of the stragglers made their way out the door. The names of those chosen for the team would be posted outside Nichols door the next day. Max handed the professor his choices and jumped up to follow the intriguing Miss Parker.
"Stay a minute Max," Nichols said.
Max cursed silently before asking distractedly, "What's up Charlie?" Max was one a select few allowed to call the Professor by his given name. Max had known him since he was a child. In fact, Max's father and Charlie were old college friends. The same friendship was later extended to Max when he entered Kenmont.
Charlie glared at Max's question. "That's what I want to know. Since when don't you pay attention at tryouts?"
"I've got a few things on my mind," Max excused.
"I bet," Charlie said as he followed Max's gaze.
"It's more than that," Max turned to look at Charlie with a serious expression. "I was hoping to stop by your house later so we could discuss it."
"That's not a problem Max. You know we can talk about anything."
"Good. Because I really need your support on this one. We'll talk about it later though," he said before racing towards the exit.
Charlie watched him leave with a worried expression on his face.
"Hey," Max said to Liz catching up with her just outside the exit.
Liz was turned to face him cautiously. Due to Maria's disability, she had suggested they wait to exit after everyone else. However, Maria had left ten minutes earlier so she could make her next class. Neither of them had expected tryouts to last so long.
"Max Evans." He stuck his hand out with a breezy confident smile.
"Liz Parker," she said reservedly and avoided shaking his hand.
Who am I Typhoid Mary? Max barely managed to keep his smile. "So I was heading to lunch," he said charmingly, "how about joining me? My treat."
Liz rolled her eyes and said, "Not interested."
Max's smile dimmed slightly. "Not interested in what?" he drawled.
Liz looked him up and down. "Whatever you're selling, offering, or trying to give away."
Max returned her perusal with a smirk. "Someone has a high opinion of herself and she shouldn't. As captain of the debate team, I merely wanted a chance to talk with you before helping Nichols make his final selections.
"Is that right?" Liz raised her eyebrow. "Well fortunately I don't need that type of help. I have no doubt I'll make the cut. My talent speaks for itself. So thanks but no thanks," Liz said before striding down the hall.
Max watched her go with a tiny smile on his face. He'd never been shot down before. It was strangely liberating. Exciting too. Let the games begin.
A/N: In the honestly of not being sued, a few lines were taken straight from the movie. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter.