HADÉThe fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, cutting through the tension in the boardroom like a knife. I took a deep breath, trying to stem the rising tide of anxiety. My fingers clenched the edges of the table where I stood-my sanctuary in this storm. The air was thick with unspoken judgments."Meeting has commenced," the chairperson declared, and my heart plummeted. The formality of the words felt like a death knell for my club, a haven that had become a second home to so many of us. "President Erik Shalman and Hadé Degaldo. First of all, we want to thank you for your efforts in fundraising and appreciate your hard work in setting up the event," his voice was steady, but I could hear the slight tremble of disappointment lurking underneath."But you're disbanding my club," I blurted out, unable to keep the desperation out of my voice. The board members exchanged glances, pity mixed with disdain."Another complaint has been received, stating that the fundraising event was just a desperate plea to save the club," a stern woman with glasses interjected. Her tone was harsh, and the way she pronounced "desperate" made it feel like I'd been slapped. "The board thinks so too.""That's not true!" I interjected, heat flooding my cheeks. I was fighting not only for my reputation but for the lives intertwined with this club. "I made a mistake, but I'm trying to make amends.""But that's not enough, Mr. Degaldo," another board member chimed in, the disappointment etched on his face becoming harder to bear. "We have received statements proving that you and some of your members have been discriminating against women."A lump rose in my throat. How had I let it get this far? It felt like a tide of accusations crashing against me, drowning out the glimmer of hope I'd clutched so tightly."Not true, I am including women in our activities.""Who is this woman that you're including in your club activities?" a board member asked, his tone dripping with doubt.I hesitated, struggling to gather my thoughts. "I-I don't know her name," I stammered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "She's not a student here."I hesitated, recalling the faces of the few brave women who dared to join our ranks after the public scandal. "Tasha Jenkins," I said finally, my voice wavering but resolute. "She's been invaluable in helping organize our events. She's incredibly talented and passionate about the sport. I was wrong to think that our club was just for men.""Should it matter where she comes from?" Erik spoke up, "The problem is that you all think we're sexist, and we're trying to prove to you that we're not."But I know I am. I had thought my upbringing-saturated with traditional values, the thrum of machismo taught to me by my mother-was the norm. Every sobering lesson from her about women was all wrong. Neon, prove to me that track isn't just a place for men. If this isn't a sign to wake up and change my ways then I don't know what it is. And to think this all started from one freshman... Hartley. Come to think of it, Neon and Hartley would make the best of friends.Another board member scoffed. "We have statements proving that you are. We cannot just ignore them."I let out a heavy sigh, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. "I understand that, and I'm not saying you shouldn't. But please understand-I have built this club from the ground up. It means everything to us. It's a safe place for people to learn about motorcycles and the dangers associated with them. By disbanding us, you would be doing more harm to the public than good. They won't have a place to learn how to ride a motorcycle safely."A silence settled in, and I could see the chairperson's eyes narrowing, considering my argument. "A safe place also means that the learning environment should be free from discriminating remarks and that female students should feel included.""I'd say that's the best speech you've ever done. It sounds genuine, too," one member chimed in, but his voice held more sarcasm than support.I felt my heart sink. This wasn't about whether I was genuine; it was about the club's survival."Let's refrain from biased comments," the chairperson stated firmly. "If you are unable to do this, please sit out."That seemed to quiet the air of mockery in the room. The member who had been so dismissive shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his previous smugness deflated as other members nodded in agreement."That's because I was being genuine," I retorted, my voice rising slightly. "I don't want this club to be disbanded. I've poured my heart and soul into it."That much is true. Every late night spent at Clive's workshop, every dime saved from my paycheck and every ounce of passion I invested in building this community. I had never taken a penny for myself, only dedicated it to motorcycles-the lifeblood of freedom that flowed through our club.The chairperson exhaled, the tension in the room easing just a notch. "The outcome today was the disbanding of our club. But based on your argument, I am offering you one chance to redeem yourself. Bring in this member-have her testify that your club is free from discrimination and that they feel it is a safe learning environment. If we find out that you have coerced or bribed this member in any way, the club will be disbanded, and you will be expelled along with any other members identified in the complaints.""Thank you, sir," I replied, relief washing over me mixed with a twinge of anxiety."You have until the end of the week for this member to come forward. If not, we will have no choice but to disband it," the chairperson concluded, banging his gavel.As the meeting adjourned, I could feel the weight of the world resting on my shoulders. I left the room with a determination that stoked the fire inside me. There was a narrow window of time left, and I needed to convince Neon Girl to stand with us.