On Monday morning, Melanie remembered that she forgot her math homework. “Oh!” she said, instantly regretting that her mom, Celisse, would now ask questions. Celisse still drove Melanie, a junior, in order to “keep the family together.” Ralph was already dropped off at grade school, and Suzie, a freshman, rode in back.
“What’s ‘oh’?” Celisse asked. Calculating that the truth was the easiest route, Melanie said, “I forgot my math homework.” Suzie laughed because Melanie had given up copying other students’ homework for Lent. “I told you it was a bad idea,” Suzie said. “What’s a bad idea?” Celisse asked, adding to the list.
The easiest route at this point, Melanie decided, was to change the subject. “Mrs. Roberts is making the final cut for cheerleader today.” Celisse had been a varsity cheerleader during her days at the high school, and although she did not pressure Melanie, she took a firm interest in her daughter’s progress. Melanie, however, knew her chances were not great. She was passed over as a sophomore, and she was not particularly athletic or attractive. As Melanie saw it, her best attribute was her ability to compose chants:
“Why does Branson High win?
We don’t marry next-of-kin.
Wins don’t go to our head,
We just know we’re not inbred.”
Although Melanie’s chants were popular in the student section, Mrs. Roberts had not yet incorporated them into the cheer routine. Melanie thus entertained another, more realistic hope to make the squad. Mrs. Roberts had cheered with Celisse and was not herself particularly athletic or attractive. Melanie thought she stood a chance as a legacy pick—if not of Celisse alone, then of Mrs. Roberts also.
Distracted by this news, Celisse wished her daughter luck and gave some quick advice. “Always remember to stand up straight, smile, and be positive!” Celisse beamed as she spoke, briefly showing her long-submerged cheerleader persona. Melanie respectfully thanked her mother while Suzie giggled in the back.
Math was third hour, and Melanie had a science presentation second hour, so her only shot at completing the math homework was first hour—debate class. By a longstanding agreement among the debaters, the class was a glorified study hall. They could work on debate if they wished, but if not, any subject would do. The debate teacher disagreed, of course, but the debaters rejected his opinion in preference for their immemorial tradition.
Just after announcements, Melanie approached the debate teacher along with her partner, Mark. “Mr. Darrow, Mark and I need to work on computers to get our case ready. Can we go to the computer lab? There’s not enough here,” Melanie said, summing up her argument with a gesture towards the occupied classroom stations. “Didn’t you guys bring your laptops?” Mr. Darrow asked. Melanie was ready: “No, I couldn’t because I have a science presentation next hour and it’s in the lab. Mark left his at home.” Mr. Darrow looked hard at Mark, but the boy remained stone-faced. Not as scrupulous as Melanie, Mark had already copied his math assignment off a shared folder. He planned to play a computer game against a friend in another class.
Melanie and Mark were among Mr. Darrow’s better debaters. They were not as prepared as they could be, Mr. Darrow believed, but his novice debaters in the same class needed much more attention. He therefore nodded his assent, and the partners left the room.
Mark was on his phone immediately, setting up the game with his friend. Melanie walked beside him, weighing what had just happened. She had given up copying homework for Lent, but then she lied to Mr. Darrow! “Is it okay to lie to keep Lent stuff?” she asked herself. For a moment, Melanie thought a zero on a math assignment would not be so bad. But she quickly rebutted this scruple with the fact that missed assignments were reported to Mrs. Roberts. Any more zeros would hurt her chances of making the cheerleading squad.
Mark looked up from his phone and, seeing his partner’s perplexity, laughed. Mark thought Melanie’s religion was stupid, and although he respected her feelings, he could not hide his bemusement when morality tied her in knots. “Look,” he said, “we’ll just get computers in the back, where Mr. Darrow can’t see what we’re doing, and we’ll open a debate tab, like we always do. Just click on it if he shows—he’ll never know.” Melanie crossed her arms and said nothing.
The two were disappointed upon reaching the computer lab. A freshman English class had taken most of the stations, and only a few were open, all close to the door. Mark picked the closest of these, suggesting that he was gallant to do so. Actually, it was the only free station with a screen facing away from the door, giving Mark an opportunity to switch screens should Mr. Darrow appear.
Melanie understood her partner’s hypocrisy, but she was surprised how little she cared. She was also surprised how her lie to Mr. Darrow weighed upon her. She had lied before, but usually with good cause, as she saw it. This time the lie seemed unjustified, and Melanie was preoccupied by a bewildering sense of personal responsibility.
“What’s the matter?” Melanie came to attention when Suzie, who was in the English class, appeared at her side. Melanie laughed a little, relieved to have her sister there. “I need to work on debate,” was all she said. “But what about math? When are you going to do that?” Melanie paused and then repeated: “I think I’ll work on debate.” Suzie shrugged, said “O.K.,” and returned to her station.
Melanie picked a computer station, opened a debate file, and began working on a speech. She felt conflicted and calm at the same time. “Well, nobody ever heard of a debater-varsity cheerleader,” she thought in frustration.
Melanie’s conflict gradually faded as she lost herself in editing. She was again brought to attention by a question—”What are you working on?—but this time Mr. Darrow stood beside her. “Oh, just my first affirmative,” Melanie said, blushing a little. She reflexively looked towards Mark’s station, but he was gone. “I sent him back to the room. He was playing a computer game. I’m glad to see you’re working,” Mr. Darrow said, smiling at her before leaving.
Melanie felt relief but also a little nausea. Too many things were moving at once. The freshman began stirring, indicating the bell was about to sound. Melanie mechanically loaded her supplies in her backpack and prepared to leave for science class.
She saw Mark in the hall. “What happened?” she asked. Mark looked away as he spoke: “Darrow was pretty mad. He gave me a demerit, but I don’t care.” Mark turned a vacant expression towards Melanie, but she saw pain in his eyes. “Sorry,” she said, not wishing to mention the debate work she had done. “See you later,” she added as he gave a nod and walked away.
Melanie went on to science class. Her presentation, which had seemed important, now seemed kind of lame. Melanie enjoyed public speaking, but concerns over cheerleading, math, and debate had driven the presentation from her mind. She tried to feel better by running over what she would say, hoping she might forget the day while speaking, just as she had forgotten while working on her debate speech.
With these slim hopes, Melanie entered class. But Mrs. Klein, her teacher, was not there. Instead, she saw “Study Hall” written on the board and, looking at a classmate, heard words to rejoice any student who neglected homework: “We have a sub.” Melanie could not but feel a thrill. She had sacrificed by working on debate instead of math, and her choice had been twice rewarded: Mr. Darrow was happy, and she could still finish math.
Sitting down, she began the assignment. It was a new experience to do math on her own. Most students copied off of a “smart kid” who completed the assignment and then posted a picture of it on the internet. Since the start of Lent, Melanie had been working through the problems with occasional questions to other students or her teacher, Mr. Rodriguez. He had noticed Melanie’s new habit of asking questions and, not less informative to him, the fact she sometimes missed answers everyone else in the class got correct.
Melanie handed in her homework third hour, hiding her sense of triumph with a studied disregard. She even answered a few Mr. Rodriguez’s questions during class, another novelty in her math career. Mr. Rodriguez decided to mention the improvement to Mrs. Roberts.
As Melanie suspected, she was indeed on the bubble for varsity cheerleader. Mr. Rodriguez knew this, and in the faculty lounge during lunch, he reported Melanie’s improvement to Mrs. Roberts. He expected the news would help Melanie’s chances, but Mrs. Roberts groaned and briefly put her face in her hands.
“What’s wrong?”
“This is a very hard choice. Melanie is a good girl, and she is Celisse’s daughter. I cheered with Celisse, you know.”
“Right.”
“I want to give her a chance but she is . . . .”
“What?”
“Well.”
“O.K. So she is not as pretty as the other girls.”
Mrs. Roberts nodded with both resignation and chagrin. She had been in the same spot in high school, but her grades were consistently good, and she was not in another activity. Melanie’s performance, by contrast, was spotty, and she had debate.
“The problem is Rachel Henry,” Mrs. Roberts explained. “She is really athletic and can do all the jumps and tumbles. And she is focused on cheer, unlike Melanie.” Mr. Rodriguez kept his thoughts to himself. He understood the politics of the situation, but he also knew Rachel was not nearly the student Melanie could be.
As they sat in silence, Mr. Darrow walked through with a demerit slip in his hand. “Who’s in trouble?” Mr. Rodriquez asked with fake joviality. “Mark Daniels,” Mr. Darrow said, “he was playing games in the computer lab during debate. But I was really proud of Melanie Smith. Although they left class together, she was working on her speech.” Mr. Rodriguez looked at Mrs. Roberts, but she looked back and shook her head.
Melanie’s day was routine after the crises in debate and math. She was surprised seventh hour, however, when she was called to Mrs. Roberts’ room. Melanie knew this was Mrs. Roberts’ planning period, but selections were usually posted after school. She had never heard of Mrs. Roberts speaking to anyone beforehand.
Melanie hesitantly entered the room. Mrs. Roberts was at her desk, and seeing Melanie, she smiled and said hi. Melanie thought Mrs. Roberts seemed a little sad, even nervous. It had never occurred to Melanie that a teacher might be nervous talking to a student. Melanie wondered at the source of her apparent influence over Mrs. Roberts.
“Melanie,” Mrs. Roberts began, “you know I have to make cuts for varsity cheer.”
“Yes, Mrs. Roberts.”
Chancing to think of rejection letters she had received, Mrs. Roberts then observed: “There are many good candidates for the position.”
Melanie blinked twice but only replied, “Yes.”
“Well, a sponsor has to weigh a lot of things in a choice like this.”
Mrs. Roberts went on, but Melanie understood the situation. The other junior girls had cheered varsity that year. The best sophomore, Rachel, was also pretty. Melanie saw she was in a contest with Rachel, and that Mrs. Roberts wanted to choose the sophomore.
Melanie felt an immediate indignation. She was older and probably worked harder than Rachel. She felt regret, nearly embarrassment, that her hopes for preference as a legacy had not panned out. She simultaneously asked herself, with some fury, why Mrs. Roberts was making such a big deal out of it.
But the day had been too unusual. She also heard, as if from around a corner, a voice remark that it was Lent. She thought of her eventual honesty with Mr. Darrow, and of her deliverance from forgotten homework. She recalled, for some reason, Mark’s eyes when he told her he didn’t care about the demerit.
“Mrs. Roberts,” Melanie interrupted, “I think Rachel should have the spot.” Melanie teared up a bit, but her day had gone unexpectedly well with good decisions. She might as well try again.
Mrs. Roberts stopped. For a long time she said nothing. Then, “O.K., Melanie. Good luck with debate.” With quick bow of the head, Melanie left.
Celisse sat in a line of cars outside school. She expected to see Suzie and was not looking for Melanie. But Melanie appeared just after the final bell. Celisse turned slightly in her seat, inclined her head, and waited.
Melanie looked straight ahead. “I told Mrs. Roberts that Rachel should be on varsity.” She paused. “I think Rachel is really good and,” turning to her mother, “I wanted to do the right thing.” “It’s Lent,” Melanie concluded with a mildly exasperated air, raising her hands and dropping them in her lap.
Melanie always remembered the next few moments. Watching her mother, she saw a nearly disembodied ambition to be a cheerleader, personally lost to Celisse but still existing as hope for her daughter. Even that would now be lost, and at Melanie’s own decision. Melanie perceived a struggle between Celisse’s ambition and her commitment as a mother, and she further intuited that a victory for the mother would mean a loss for Celisse. The mother won. “I think you made a selfless choice, honey,” Celisse said. Suzie climbed into the back seat. “Now, let’s go get Ralph.”