I immediately feel intimidated by the number of people in attendance today.
Almost every single one of the chairs that line up the large court style room is occupied, and I think we’re going to have to stand until we’re up.
“Lev, Ares. Over here.” Lev’s mom waves at us from a row of chairs on the left side of the room. We all sneak in as quietly as possible, taking the seats she and her husband reserved for us.
“It’s nice to see you again, Zara.” She greets me.
“Likewise, Mrs. Reilly.”
The way her smile lights up her green eyes reminds me of the way her son smiles too. “You can call me Rachel. Mrs. Reilly is my mother-in-law.”
Her friendly tone puts me at ease. She looks way more approachable today than the first time we met at Mom and Scott’s welcome home party that Heather’s mom threw a few weeks ago.
Some people look way more relaxed and at ease when they’re in their element, and working seems to be hers. My dad is the same way. He’s way more friendly when he’s surrounded by motorcycle parts and gear than during interviews or even promotional events.
“The council is voting on the project for a new sports complex the mayor wants to build right at the edge of town.” Rachel explains. “After this is over, it’s our turn.”
My anxiety levels increase with every passing second. I know that what we’re about to propose will cause a fight with two of the people we love the most.
“The motion brought forward by the mayor passes with a majority of eight votes in favor and two votes against. Star Cove’s new sports training and residential complex will be built on the plot of land designated as 382-B by Old South Lake Road. This was today’s last ordinance—” the town clerk’s announcement is interrupted by Lev’s dad.
“If our esteemed mayor and city council don’t mind, a group of citizens has one last motion to submit to this council.” Christopher Reilly rises from his chair next to his wife and makes his way to the podium at the front of the room.
The city clerk doesn’t look pleased by the interruption. “Mr. Reilly,” she objects. “Can this wait until next month? I don’t have to remind you that any motion or petition should be filed with me in advance. That will give the council ample opportunity to look at the content of your proposal and?—”
“I’m well aware of the procedure, ma’am clerk.” Lev’s dad interrupts again. “This is, however, an urgent matter and, as such, we’re allowed to petition the city council without filing ourmotion in advance. As per our emergency petition ordinance 25-D, comma 5, from July 1984.”
The city clerk’s shoulders stiffen, but she accepts the envelope Mr. Reilly hands her after the mayor nods at her.
Her face pales when she opens the envelope and reads the first page in front of her.
“Marjorie,” Scott encourages her, accepting an identical folder from Lev’s dad. “Let’s hear this last petition for the day.”
I know the content of the petition, so part of me doesn’t blame Marjorie for her reluctance. A copy gets distributed to each member of the council in the time it takes for the city clerk to read the first page.
“Very well.” She takes a note, writing in her ledger. “Petition number two hundred and twenty-eight for this calendar year. This emergency motion has the required five percent of the electoral body’s signatures required to formally petition the mayor and the council requesting legislative action.”
Lev’s parents explained that anyone can informally petition the council. But by getting the required number of signatures and filing a formal petition, the city council is obliged to consider the motion and to take action one way or the other.
“This petition moves to open a motorcycle racetrack on the plot of land by Mission Road that used to serve as a car racetrack back in the 1960s. Incidentally, the petition also moves to lift the ban on owning, keeping and operating motorcycles within Star Cove’s city limits.”
A couple of seconds pass in complete silence after the clerk has read the main part of our petition. The silence is so complete that you could hear a proverbial pin drop.
“Come again, please? I think I might have misheard you.” The mayor says with a frown.
I’ve seen that expression before on both Ares and Chance’s faces.
Marjorie looks more distressed with every passing second as she repeats what she just read.
“This must be a joke, right? Are there cameras here and I’m being pranked?” Scott looks around as if to spot hidden cameras.
His scowl gets darker when he doesn’t find what he was looking for. “If this isn’t a prank,” Scott’s gaze settles on Lev’s dad. “I would like to know who’s behind this ridiculous petition. My entire campaign was based on making Star Cove’s roads and our youth safe from the reckless driving and the crime that motorcycles seem to attract everywhere in the state and the country. I’ve been mayor for just over a year, so the town had already voted when they elected me. This motion is absolutely pointless. If there are no objections, we can adjourn this meeting, and we’ll see everyone in thirty days.”
“Mr. Mayor,” one of the members of the council speaks into the microphone on his desk. “If I may. While I understand your reasoning, if the petition has the required number of signatures, we’re legally obligated to consider it and to vote on it.”
A murmur of approval comes from the rest of the council members, who are seated on either side of the mayor, facing the rest of the room. It looks like one of those panels of judges during reality TV shows where they vote on your business ideas. Of course, the atmosphere inside Star Cove’s town hall is a lot more formal, and we are the audience.
“Very well.” Scott bites out, but from his tone it’s more than clear that he doesn’t think anything is going well right now. “But before I open the room to debate this motion, I’m entitled to know who is behind this petition. Christopher?” He directs his gaze to where Lev’s dad is still standing.
