I decide to walk to the dealership. It takes me about an hour, but the rain has tapered off for now and I don't really care. The mayor isn't around-he's off mayoring, I guess. But two more ribbons have been slapped onto the back of my car, and this time they're actual sticky b.u.mper stickers, not removable magnets. Great. Revenge on a teenager must be so sweet, Mr. Mayor.

I consider what it would take to remove the stickers with minimal annoyance, but then I get a better idea.

I go to the library to pick up the e-mails, but I also spend ten minutes researching something else on the 'net. Yeah, it's possible. And cheap, too. I place my order and feel oddly powerful and satisfied.

When I leave, the rain starts up again. Perfect.

Chapter 32.

The Debate (DUH)

It's still raining on Wednesday morning when I wake up. I guess that's appropriate. I'm extra careful driving to school-I don't need to wreck my car along with my life.

It is-to use Flip's favorite word-surreal that this is actually happening. Dr. Goethe has actually canceled first period for the entire school. After homeroom, everyone goes to the auditorium. Mrs. Sawyer guides me backstage, along with John. What would she say if she knew I had the key to the janitors' office back here? Or that I spend way too much time up on that catwalk?

I made a decision yesterday.

Yesterday, while I put the finishing touches on my opening statement, I decided that I was going to push this as far as I could. My mom used to say, "In for a penny, in for a pound," and I never really understood that until recently. But it's like I've stepped partway into the quicksand and I might as well see if I can swim in it now. Even though I might drown.

Then again, I just might reach the other side.

After all, what do I have to lose? Leah is never going to be my girlfriend. The people who don't like me aren't going to suddenly change their minds. So I might as well just keep pushing.

I go to the auditorium and look out front before I go back backstage. The big screen they show movies and stuff on is lowered into position from the ceiling. I wonder why?

Backstage, John and I wait for Dr. Goethe with Mrs. Sawyer. I wore a tie today, mindful of how professional John looked the other day, but he's just wearing a blazer (with his flag pin, of course) and a shirt open at the throat. He looks way cooler and more relaxed than I do. I'm tempted to take off my tie, but I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he's gotten to me. And let's face it-no matter what the situation, Riordon's always gonna look better than I do.

One of Mrs. Grant's media helpers shows up and talks to John and I hear John say, "...hook up my laptop."

"What?" It spills out of me before I can stop it. John looks over his shoulder at me and smirks and says absolutely nothing.

His laptop? He's hooking up his laptop?

Dr. Goethe joins us backstage. "Um, Dr. Goethe? Can I talk to you for a second?"

He looks at his watch. "We don't have time for this."

"I didn't know we could do presentations..." G.o.d, it sounds weak and pathetic. John laughs as he hands a laptop bag to the media guy.

"You don't have to do a presentation," Dr. Goethe says, totally missing the point. "Just talk. You'll be fine."

Before I can protest any further, he gathers John and me together to explain the rules: He'll go out there first and talk a little bit. Then John and I will come and stand at our podiums. We each get a couple of minutes for an opening statement. Then we each get to rebut the other guy and ask questions of each other. Then we each get a closing statement. And then, best of all, the audience-the entire school-will vote on who won the debate. I'll lose. I mean, there's no question about that. The only question is by how much.

"As we agreed, Kevin," the Doc goes on, "you'll get the last word. And remember, you two." He looks at us sternly. "Remember: You're using your closing statements to tell everyone to calm down and stop this nonsense."

"Yes, sir," says Riordon.

"Right," I manage. My brain is still on Riordon's laptop.

I'm gonna get creamed again.

"And nothing personal, you guys. Keep it clean."

It takes the Doc a while to calm the crowd down. Eventually, though, he does and he goes into a little spiel about the Power and the Promise of Free Speech and how it's at the Heart of our Democracy and it's a Gift Between the Generations, starting way back with the Founding Fathers and blah blah blah. I'm totally prepared, but I'm terrified anyway. I mean, I was prepared last time, too, but that didn't stop Riordon from scoring points.

So after a million years, the Doc reminds everyone to hold their applause until closing statements and then introduces us and everyone ignores him and applauds anyway as John goes onto the stage.

There are boos when I come out, but the teachers in the crowd cut them off pretty quickly.

I walk across the stage, amazed my legs can actually work. Bright lights shine down on me and every freakin' kid at South Brook is out there in the audience, watching.

Other than that day at the football field-which seems like it happened a million years ago to someone else-I've never in my life had so many eyes on me. Still not used to it. John is fine with it-he is used to this. He gets crowds screaming and cheering for him all the time at football games.

I get to the podium and grab it like it's a life preserver. I can't lose it now. I have to do this.

Dr. Goethe explains the rules to the crowd and then asks for John's opening statement.

"Hi, there, South Brook. I can't believe that we have to go through this again. I really can't. But that's OK. This is important. Important enough to explain more than just once."

John clicks a little gadget in his hand and the movie screen lights up with a video.

The video.

"The Battle Hymn of the Republic" echoes throughout the auditorium. The flags of Sweden, Denmark, Australia, Canada, and Norway burn.

Hissing from the audience. I guess I should be freaked out, but there's this part of me that can't help being impressed-the video looks pretty good up on a big screen. Flip did a great job.

The video ends. John leaves it frozen on the last frame.

"So," he says. "Someone burned flags this weekend." He doesn't exactly turn to look at me, but he jerks his head a little bit in my direction, and people get the point without him actually, y'know, pointing. "I guess someone thought that was funny. I don't. Oh, don't worry-I get the 'joke.' I talked about burning a flag last time, so someone decided to burn a bunch of them. But none of them were American flags, and then this person decided to make a very unpatriotic point: that all flags are equal because all flags burn the same. There's nothing special about our flag, we're supposed to believe-it burns like everyone else's. The implication was clear: 'It's just a flag,' they say. 'What's the big deal? Chill out. Relax.'"

He clicks again. An American flag fills the screen.

"But you know, I can't relax. Because I don't buy it. Put yourself in the position of someone from one of those countries. Don't you think that if you heard about this, you'd be mad? Why should someone have the right to do that to you? Why should someone be able to trample on a beloved symbol, just to make a point? There are many ways to make a point. You can give speeches. You can write books or newspaper columns or essays. You can even do a debate." He gestures to the entire auditorium.

"This is America. You can say anything you want, as long as people listen to you. So why burn a flag and just enrage people? What possible point could you be making?

"And get this: It's not just disrespectful and pointless. It's also illegal. That's right-there have been laws protecting the flag for decades. I didn't realize that until I was preparing for this debate. For a very long time, there have been laws to protect the desecration of the flag."

More clickety-click. There are animated words and letters swooping and diving on the screen, forming into bullet points, including "Uniform Flag Law of 1917."

"Here's something else that I learned while preparing: The flag is older than the Const.i.tution. I didn't know that. I'm sort of ashamed I didn't, honestly. But it's true. Our flag came into being in 1777"-click-click, another bullet point-"a dozen years before the Const.i.tution. So when people trot out the First Amendment to defend burning a flag, I have my answer ready for them: The flag was here before the Const.i.tution. It should be respected. It should be protected. And it should definitely be pledged to in the morning!"

There's a burst of applause that dies quickly when the Doc grabs a microphone: "I'm going to remind all of you to save your applause for the end so that we can get through this."

He gives them a couple of seconds to calm down and then: "OK, Kevin. Your turn."

John's PowerPoint presentation is still up on the screen. I want to tell him to turn it off, but I don't trust myself.

I take a deep breath and look out over the crowd.

"Well..." Whoa. My voice explodes from the speakers. I can feel it in addition to hearing it.

I almost give up right there. I'm sweating already and my hands are shaking on the podium.

But I'm here, right? Already in the quicksand. Time to swim for all I'm worth.

"Well, I find it interesting that John seems to think that we shouldn't have the right to make people mad. Because he's doing nothing but making me mad."

This goes over like rare steak at a vegetarians' convention.

"He's making me mad because ... because..." Oh, G.o.d, I'm losing it. Too many eyes on me. And there's Leah, third row, watching me. She's on my side, but it doesn't matter because she won't tell anyone. So she might as well be on Riordon's side. So...

I risk a look over at him. Riordon's smirking.

Well, that was a mistake on his part. Because now I'm more p.i.s.sed off than I am nervous.

Come on. You can do this, Kross. Stop trying to ad-lib and stick to what you wrote last night. To the bombsh.e.l.l Fam discovered.

"Last week, John said that America was the freest country in the world. Well, I'm sorry, but that's not true."

I get exactly the reaction I thought I'd get: Ma.s.sive outcry. Boos. Hisses. Shouts. John has an expression on his face like, Is this guy even trying to win the debate? He looks shocked and a little bit disappointed that I'm making it so easy for him.

Dr. Goethe takes almost a minute to calm everyone down.

"No, really," I continue. "It's not. By any objective measure. Man, I wish..." I look longingly at the screen. "I wish I had a computer, too. So I could show you this, but I guess you'll just have to listen instead. The World Bank did this study, where they ranked every country in the world based on how much freedom its citizens have. And guess what? The United States wasn't number one."

I let that sink in for a second.

"It wasn't number two."

Another second.

"It wasn't even in the top ten. Or the top twenty. It was number thirty-three."

I get some more gasps for that one. John shakes his head, so I aim the next bit right at him: "The freest country in the world, John, is actually Denmark, which got a score of one hundred percent. The U.S. got a score of eighty-three point seven percent, after Sweden, Australia, Canada, and Norway ... Oh, my." And here I stop like I've just realized something. "Oh, those are the countries whose flags were burned the other day, aren't they?"

I give everyone a second to let that sink in.

"See, John, you say you got the 'joke' about those burning flags, but I'm not sure. Now, we both know that I couldn't have set those flags on fire, but I've been thinking about them a lot. And here's the thing: It's legal to burn the national flag in all of those countries. In every single one. In Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, it's only illegal to burn another country's flag. We don't have a law like that here. So it seems like those countries-those freer countries-have a different set of priorities than you do. They understand that a flag is a symbol. But here's what I think the point of that prank was, and it's not that they all burn alike. It's that they're all just symbols. And burning them shows that symbols are not actually things. I mean, symbols exist so that you can talk about an idea. So that you can reach out and touch it. You can't touch freedom or see it, but you can see a flag.

"But here's the thing: When you burn a flag, you don't see the flag anymore, but that just means that the flag is gone. Not the freedom. The freedom is still here.

"And guess what? The answer to that question at the end of the video, what do those flags have in common with ours? It's this: It's legal to burn the flag in this country, too. It's protected. It's free speech.

"American flags are burned all the time in this country! Every single day. And you know who does it? Well, most of the time it's people in veterans' organizations. It's, like, the American Legion and the Boy Scouts, even. That's because when a flag is dirty or damaged from being used, the only approved way to get rid of it is to burn it!"

John explodes. "You can't compare-!"

"You'll get your turn, John," the Doc says.

"But-!"

"No buts."

"Thank you, Dr. Goethe," I say. I'm calm on the outside, but inside I'm jumping up and down and cheering. I rattled Riordon. I did it. I made him snap.

I have to look down at my notes for the next part. "John Howard recently said that flag burning shouldn't be illegal because 'I do not think we achieve anything by making it a criminal offense-we only turn yahoo behavior into martyrdom.' He's the prime minister of Australia. It's pretty sad that you have to go all the way around the world for sense like that. Oh, wait. No, you don't. Right here in the U.S., Colin Powell said, 'The First Amendment exists to insure that freedom of speech and expression applies not just to that with which we agree or disagree, but also that which we find outrageous. I would not amend that great shield of democracy to hammer a few miscreants.'"

Deep breath.

"OK. Now I'm done."

Now it's time. Questions. And I have only one question I want to ask John, really. Just one.

"Now it's your turn, John," says Dr. Goethe. "Your first question to Kevin."

"I don't even know where to start," John says. "I don't really care about laws from other countries. I care about our flag and no matter what you say, there are laws protecting it."

"A question, John?" Dr. Goethe prods.

"Fine." John jabs a finger at me. "Are you really comparing someone burning a flag to dispose of it properly with someone who's burning it out of disrespect and hate?"

And that's it. He's just walked into a trap. I shrug. "Why not? It's the exact same act, right?"

"No, it isn't!"

"Wait!" Dr. Goethe says. "Wait! I'm going to let you keep going, John, because technically Kevin asked a question when he responded to your question, but let's try to be orderly here. Go ahead."

Riordon's really hot under the collar. "It's not the same thing. In the one case, the person is doing the right thing by getting rid of an old flag. They're different."

"How? What if I have an old flag and decide to burn it as a protest? I'm doing the exact same thing as the guy burning that exact same flag to get rid of it."

We're supposed to be waiting for questions, but we're just jumping all over each other too fast.

"No, you're not!" He actually makes a fist and hits the podium. "It's not the same!"