The debate tournament at Berkeley came faster than expected late September.
Maya spent two weeks obsessing over her preparation researching topics, practicing arguments with Riley, running scenarios past anyone who would listen. By the Thursday before the tournament, she'd probably memorized half the internet.
"You're going to do great," I told her for the hundredth time. "Stop stressing."
"But what if I freeze? What if I forget everything? What if I embarrass myself in front of everyone?"
"Then you'll survive and try again next time. That's how learning works."
"That's not comforting."
"It's realistic. Which is better than false comfort."
Kai was working late Thursday night project deadline at the internship so it was just me and Maya for dinner. We ordered Chinese food and ate on the couch while she ran through her arguments one more time.
"Okay, be honest," she said between bites of lo mein. "Am I going to completely bomb?"
