Another Faust (41 page)

“Good job, my dear. You were brilliant,” Madame Vileroy said.

“Thanks, and the best part is that now he thinks it’s Belle’s fault.”

As soon as the round was over, Belle and Lucy both ran over to Thomas from opposite sides of the hall. He was listlessly shuffling papers on his desk.

“Hi. I’m so sorry I’m late. Don’t worry, you can totally bounce back from that,” said Belle.

“And you’re going to help him?” spat Lucy.

“Of course I am,” said Belle, looking at Thomas for support. He still hadn’t looked up from his papers. She reached for his hand, but he pulled it away so fast, she let out a yelp.

“Like you helped Victoria?” he finally said.

Belle’s heart stopped. Did he know? Did he finally feel what had happened to him that night?

“What are you talking about?”

“Belle, you told her my entire strategy. About the patent lawyer and all the arguments I was using. You’re the one who told her.”

“No . . .”

“Yeah, Thomas, I bet it was her,” Lucy said, jumping in.

“What’s worse is that you told her about my plans — about wanting to be a lawyer. No one else knew about that. You’re the only one who could have said anything.”

“No, Thomas. I didn’t tell her that. I swear.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

Valentin’s creative writing teacher pushed his way past the crowd to congratulate his student. Valentin’s poems had just won first place in the original compositions category, and everyone wanted to talk to the gifted young artist. Charlotte had to claw and trample her way to the front, where Christian was already congratulating Valentin.

“Hey, Charlotte,” Valentin said when she stumbled into him. “What did you think?

Christian felt sorry for Charlotte. Valentin had such a dismissive tone. But still, who could blame him? He didn’t like her. And he had been nice to her for so long.

“It was great! What was your inspiration for that one?” Charlotte fished.

“Nothing. Just came to me.”

Charlotte looked hurt, and upset, and generally confused. “OK, well, I have to go. What time are you going to pick me up tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“You know. The spring dance?”

“Uh . . . Charlotte, I asked someone . . .” Valentin racked his brain.
Did I ask Charlotte? No, no, definitely not.

Charlotte’s lip quivered. “But you asked
me.
”

Oh, geez.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte. I promised to go . . . with my sister. . . . She doesn’t have a date. And anyway . . . I’m sorry.”

Charlotte burst into tears and ran off. Christian just stood there waiting.

“Aren’t you going to go back . . . to fix that?” he asked Valentin.

“Fix what? There’s nothing to fix. It’s better not to lead her on.”

Belle was crying. “I didn’t tell her that. I promise.”

“Belle, can you leave him alone?” said Lucy.

“Yeah, please leave. I only get fifteen minutes to prepare my comeback.”

Belle wiped her face on her sleeve. Thomas was fidgeting again, and his voice grew louder as he spoke to her. He was already nervous, but sitting near Belle, he felt as if he were being pricked all over with pins and needles that sent an unpleasant tingling through his hands and feet.

“Well, that’s why I came. I want to help,” said Belle slowly, noticing his nervousness.

“I don’t cheat. And I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Thomas, just trust me. Yes, Vic cheated. Yes, she got a look at your strategy in advance. But I promise that I had nothing to do with it.” Lucy snorted. Belle went on, “And what I have here is a speech that evens the playing field. It’s all based on the stuff you found on your own, but she hasn’t seen this speech. It’s fair.”

“OK, let me see and then I’ll decide.”

“No. You have to promise that you won’t look at it until you’re about to give the speech.”

“Are you kidding?” said Lucy. “He’d be crazy to trust you now.”

Belle glanced over at Victoria, who was intently watching the three of them, with a mean look. She was always cheating. Belle couldn’t let Thomas read the speech now.

“You’re serious?” said Thomas. “You want me to go up there and read something I’ve never seen?”

“If you read it now, she’ll have time to — Never mind, just do it for me. What do you have to lose? I can’t imagine you have much in that file box that’ll help you win in less than” — Belle checked her watch — “ten minutes.”

Christian and Valentin slipped into the classroom just as Belle was leaving Thomas and walking toward Bicé. She gave them a thumbs-up, completely ignoring Victoria, who was standing with Madame Vileroy and giving her the most hateful glare she could conjure. Thomas approached the podium feeling as if someone were holding him by the throat, thinking,
I’m such a pushover.
But something about the way Belle had pleaded with him had made him want to listen. It wasn’t the way he’d felt before. He didn’t feel groggy and happy and totally in love. Something about the way she looked at him made him trust her. It was her eyes. She had honest eyes. Thomas opened the paper that Belle had given him and began to read.

“What is stealing? When is it excusable? When is it a crime?” Thomas looked uncomfortable as he read. Christian perked up. Belle saw Christian listening with interest and looked down at her shoes.

“An action becomes stealing when one of two conditions are met. First, when there is harm to the victim. Second, when the act is done for personal gain.” Thomas looked up and smiled. He seemed happy with where the speech was going, and Belle breathed a sigh of relief. Christian’s face had gone white. He stood frozen in his spot. Belle smiled as if to say that things were different with him. That stealing was different in their world. She was torn between excitement for Thomas and embarrassment for Christian.

“If both these criteria are met, there is no question where society stands. When one of the two criteria is in question, society begins to debate. For example, is it wrong when someone takes something that has been thrown away? Perhaps not, since there is no detriment to the victim. Is it wrong when someone takes a loaf of bread to feed a starving baby or taxes the rich to help the poor? Perhaps not, since the motive is unselfish.”

Victoria wasn’t even looking at Thomas anymore. She was glaring at Belle. She looked like she was about to lunge at her. Belle signaled to her that perhaps she should be taking notes. But Victoria wasn’t used to preparing rebuttals without advance notice.

“When neither of the criteria is met, however, I propose that there is no crime against ethics. Is it wrong to take a syringe from a drug addict? Of course not. I think this issue can be resolved if we find a way to violate neither of these two rules. Then it may be easier for skeptics to say that the right to life trumps the right to intellectual property, since it will be hard to prove that any property has been taken at all.” Thomas began to speak emphatically, like a politician. Belle looked proud. Victoria was livid.

“My plan involves a combination of safeguards including export restrictions and marketing measures to ensure that the pharmaceutical companies’ profits are not affected. Meanwhile, I propose various distribution measures and profit caps to ensure that no one will stand to gain significantly from violating patents, thus removing incentive for selfish profiteers to enter this business.”

Thomas went on to present a perfect twelve-point plan, ad-libbing along the way, and visibly winning over all the judges. In the next round, Victoria, who suddenly seemed at a loss for evidence or coherent arguments, resorted to poking a few holes in Thomas’s plan and rereading pieces of her original speech. She finished with a minute left to spare and stormed out before the judges announced Thomas the winner.

Thomas threw his arms around Belle. He lifted her off the ground and kissed her . . . on the forehead.

“I’m so sorry. I — I thought you were the one that —” he stammered, embarrassed at himself but still holding on to her, “you know.”

“That’s OK,” she whispered. “But you believe me now, right?”

Over Thomas’s shoulder, Belle saw Lucy walking out, slamming the door behind her.

“Sure I do. If you were trying to sell me out to Victoria, you wouldn’t have saved me like that. By the way, where did you get that speech?”

“I wrote it.” Thomas’s eyebrows shot up. “What? You thought I was just a dumb blonde?”

“No. But where did you get all the evidence and that plan . . .”

“I started with your arguments and researched the rest online. You don’t need inside info to form opinions on stuff.”

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Thomas, too happy to wonder how she had had the time.

After the tournament, Victoria was nowhere to be found. Valentin and Thomas went to the awards ceremony. Christian and Bicé were outside when Belle ran up and hugged Bicé.

“Thank you,” she said. “He said I was brilliant.”

Bicé awkwardly returned the hug, still conflicted about her prodigal sister. “Glad I could help.”

“How did you help?” asked Christian.

“She stopped everything . . . to give me time to write that speech.”

“You
stopped
everything?” asked Christian.