“Actually,” I tell her once we’re face-to-face, “I want to talk to everyone about winning the Pandora’s box competition.”
Her brows shoot up. “Aphrodite Hall doesn’t really participate in the yearly hall competition. But that’s not to say we can’t. I have to admit, Ellie, I like your style. Please, take it away.” She sweeps her arm out in a “they’re all yours” kind of gesture.
I spent last night preparing—and memorizing—my speechabout this, but the second the eyes of over one hundred Aphrodites look at me, my entire mouth turns into the Sahara. Actually, no. It turns into the Atacama Desert, because everyone knows it’s even drier than the Sahara.
But my bizarre knowledge about deserts doesn’t matter here. What does matter is the fact that I forget every word of the speech I practiced no less than a hundred times yesterday.
Every single word.
And everyone is staring at me.
“Um…,” I start out, because who doesn’t love a bunch of verbal static at the beginning of a speech. “I was…um…”
My eyes meet Fifi’s in the crowd, and I must look really freaked out, because my roommate—who has fast become my best friend—jumps out of her seat, swan and all, and rushes to the front of the crowd to join me.
Once there, she links arms with me and says, “What Ellie is trying to say is that we think it would be a really good idea to win the Pandora’s box competition this year!”
Her statement is met with blank, unenthusiastic silence. But she wouldn’t be Fifi if she let a little resistance get her down. She just gives them the same look she gives me when she wants me to do something and says, “Come on! We all know the Zeus and Athena kids are the worst. They’re arrogant and egotistical and total know-it-alls who think they are so much smarter than the rest of us.”
That gets the attention of the crowd, most of whom start nodding along with her—or leaning over to their friends andapparently telling them about a time or, you know, ten, that they’ve had to deal with some Athena or Zeus kid who thinks they have all the answers.
And can I just say, ouch! I mean, I know I’m technically an Aphrodite at this moment, but I didn’t realize how many people at the campus think Athena kids are insufferable and stuck up. My mom always told me Athena girls do better at school and make better decisions than anyone else, and I believed her.
But now that I’m looking at that sentence from the point of view of a group that has absolutely no interest in Athena, I have to admit, I get it. Itispretty egotistical to go around thinking you’re the best all the time. And it’s even more egotistical to say it. Better to just do something the best that you can and not put anyone else down while you’re doing it.
Maybe my mom didn’t mean to put anyone down when she was saying all those things about Athena, but it’s kind of implied.
I can’t believe I never really thought of it like that before.
It’s kind of strange how much I’m learning from the members of Aphrodite Hall when I thought Athena was the only hall on campus that really had something to teach me—which just kind of makes their point for them.
Realizing she’s winning over the crowd, Fifi keeps talking. “Wouldn’t it be fun to find all the objects before they do and take the win? They think they’re the only two halls who can compete, but that’s not true. We can totally win if we want to.”
“Have you seen them during these competitions?” someone calls from the back row. “They’re vicious. Zeus Hall set the Athena owl on fire last year when Athena was leading the competition. Did you forget that?”
Fifi and I must look horrified, because Levi steps in to clarify, “The owl outside their hall. Not a real owl.”
“What if they decide to do that to our apple?” someone else says. “I like the new look. I don’t want them to do something awful to it.”
“Plus, they’ll just make fun of us if we try, tell us how there’s no way we can beat them. Who needs to listen to that all the time?” one of the second years complains.
“Who cares what they say?” I burst out. “It will just be short term. Because when we win, we can show them that we’re just as smart and capable as they think they are. Isn’t that worth something?”
Everyone just kind of stares at me when I say it, and I don’t need to have a mind-reading gift to know they aren’t impressed with my argument. Which stinks, because it’s a really good argument.
“Are we seriously going to take ourselves out of the competition just because they think we can’t win?” I ask incredulously. “Doesn’t that basically mean they’re telling us what we can or can’t do? That’s ridiculous.”
Now they don’t just look unimpressed, they also look angry.
So much for Athena girls being good public speakers. I take a deep breath and remind myself that compromise is a good thing. “How about this? We try to find one object fromthe scavenger hunt this month. If we do, maybe you’ll find you really like it. And if we don’t, I won’t take up any more pizza time trying to convince you otherwise.”
People start talking among themselves again, and I know I’ve lost them. Disappointment settles into my chest, and if I was in my room, I’d probably cry. But I’m not. I’m out here in front of all these people, so I can’t do anything but smile and pretend I’m not upset.
But then the blue-haired girl from registration says, “All right, Ellie. I’m intrigued.”
“You are?” I don’t mean to sound so shocked, but I kind of can’t help it. Darcy is one of the most popular girls in the entire hall, but she also does only what she wants.
She laughs at my surprise. “I don’t know why, but I am. I’ll look for something on the scavenger hunt list.” She turns to Levi. “How about you, L? You want to be my scavenger hunt buddy?”
