Ben grabbed my arm as I passed. “Iris! What’s wrong?”

I just shook my head, trying to get myself together. This was mortifying. As I took deep breaths, Merit entered the staging tent and ran over to me. “Iris! What happened?”

I looked from Ben to Merit and pointed outside, “The judge of all people told me that if I believed my dad was innocent, I was dumber than I looked.”

Ben said soothingly, “Iris, you know you aren’t dumb. And you look beautiful.”

Merit took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves in a way I found unsettling. Ben was still talking, trying to calm me, when Merit started walking. “Merit,” I said, following him, leaving Ben midsentence. He was walking fast and with purpose. “Merit!” I said, trying to grab his shirt. “Leave this alone. It’s fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Merit was too quick and too focused, and I felt like I was in a dream, outside of myself, when Merit said, “Hey, Judge Andrews.” The judge turned, and I saw his eyes change the moment before Merit reared back and punched him in the face.

“Oh my God. Merit!” I screamed. The judge stumbled back into his crew who, fortunately, caught him, lest he be splayed on the ground.

One of the security officers had Merit in his grip as Merit said, “Maybe you should find something better to do with your time than insult teenage girls.”

The judge stood up, and as the officer started to pull Merit away, he said, “Wait. Let him go.”

The officer said, “Are you sure, Judge?”

He nodded. “Are you insane? We face Howard High next week. We can’t win without Merit McDonald.”

The security officer gave him a once-over. “Oh, you are Merit McDonald.” He let him go so quickly Merit’s arm flopped to his side. “Don’t want to injure that cannon,” he said, rubbing Merit’s bicep in a way that, honestly, bordered on creepy.

Merit smoothed his shirt. “I’m sorry, Judge. I shouldn’t have—”

The judge put his hand up. “No harm done. I deserved it. I’m sorry, young lady. You have a gallant boyfriend to stand up for you.”

All of a sudden Sophie appeared, and right in my face, at a decibel level I have only heard from injured animals on TV, screamed, “HE IS NOT HER BOYFRIEND.” Then she stomped her foot and walked away.

The judge patted Merit on the shoulder. “Good luck with that one, son.”

In spite of myself, I laughed. Mom and Grace came running toward us, the news obviously having made it to their corner of the party.