I woke up the next day feeling super refreshed, but my mood took a nosedive as soon as I glanced at my alarm clock.
"Fuck! What the heck's been up with lately?"
"Quiet! I'm trying to zone in here," Lucas grumbled, his eyes glued to his pad. He was always parked in front of it, only pausing once a day to grab a bite—a total workaholic.
Though I didn't have a spare mont to dwell on soone else's life. It was 9:40 a.m., and I had my final math class at 10!
I didn't even bother with brushing my teeth. I just grabbed whatever clothes were within arm's reach, left my backpack behind, and ran out of there.
I damn near tripped on one of those janky-ass steps in the falling-apart staircase, but I sohow kept my balance and made it downstairs. I started booking it like there was no tomorrow.
I didn't realize it yesterday, but it felt like my stamina had kicked up a notch or two.
It wasn't all that peachy, though. I rolled up to the school gates panting like I had just run a marathon, and I was already more than 5 minutes late!
I burst into the classroom, and all eyes, including the teacher's, Mr. Johnson's, were locked on . He raised an eyebrow and quipped, "Well, well, well, look who's decided to grace us with their presence. Sullivan, did you get your beauty sleep?"
"Apologies, Mr. Johnson," I gasped. "I overslept, and I hightailed it here as fast as I could." I panted out, completely wiped out.
"It just so happens that we've been wrestling with this geotry problem that might rear its head on the SAT. Any chance you could lend a hand?" Mr. Johnson said it with a sly grin.
He always seed hell-bent on making the day even rougher for the students who showed up late.
A few of my classmates had sympathetic expressions, but in the back, Dylan was grinning like he was on the verge of pure ecstasy or sothing.
I confidently approached the whiteboard and addressed the class. "Alright, let's get into it. E's right in the middle of AD, which ans DE and EA are equivalent."
As I got the Pythagorean Theorem on the board, I noted, "AB is 6 inches, BC is 4 inches, solid info."
"Here cos the theorem," I said, scribbling it down. "AE^2 EB^2 = AB^2."
I handled the calculations with precision. "Plugging in our numbers, we've got EA^2 4^2 = 6^2."
"Crunching the numbers," I added, "EA^2 16 = 36."
"Subtract 16 from both sides, EA^2 = 36 - 16."
"That brings us to EA^2 = 20."
"Ti for the root," I declared. "EA = √20."
"So, EA is 2√5 inches. And rember, DE is in the sa ballpark as EA, so DE is also 2√5 inches." I drove the point ho.
"The correct answer is a solid 5 inches.", I said wrapping it up.
The class sat briefly shocked. It wasn't a difficult question, even for them, but they had never seen solve anything, let alone do it so quickly.
Even Mr. Johnson, wearing an unattractive expression, had aid to embarrass , but it didn't go as planned.
The class kept going, and you know, this was our last SAT review session. Mr. Johnson was grilling the class with questions on all sorts of stuff. But today, it was mostly yours truly and Olivia holding it down with the answers.
"Alright, guys. What is the sum of the first 5 terms of the arithtic sequence where the first term is 10, and the common difference is 3."
"It's 80," I fired back in a flash. By this point, my classmates were really starting to wonder if sothing was up with .
"What is the degree of a constant function?"
"Zero."
The back-and-forth continued, with occasionally yielding the floor to Olivia, who also seed to be on the sa wavelength, responding quickly after .
But just as the rhythm was settling in, the classroom door swung open, and Ms. Rivers entered.
I had a feeling I knew what was up.
Ms. Rivers turned to Mr. Johnson and asked, "Max Sullivan, is he in class?"
"Yeah, he's here. What's going on?"
"I need him to co with to the teacher's office for a quick chat. We've got sothing to discuss."
I got up and followed the physics teacher, unaware that Olivia was eyeing my back that day with a look that seed to hold sothing unspoken.
I trailed behind Ms. Rivers until we reached the teacher's office.
"Take a seat right here," Ms. Rivers instructed, settling into her own chair. "I want you to explain to why you cheated on the last quiz.". Ever since she walked into the class, I had a gut feeling this convo was gonna circle back to that quiz.
"I didn't cheat, Ms. Rivers. How could I cheat? I wrapped up my writing quicker than anyone else," I responded earnestly.
She gave a skeptical side-eye and suggested, "You probably used your phone, didn't you?"
"No, I absolutely did not. If you don't believe , Ms., you can test right here! I know way more than you might think. I've been buried in books for the past two weeks," I replied, adding a little white lie to make my case more convincing.
"You know what, it's okay. Even if you did cheat, I'm willing to let it slide. Your expression tells you've actually put in the effort. I don't want to make things tougher for you right before the SAT exam."
"So, am I free to go?"
With a nod, she replied, "Yes, you can go. Best of luck on the SAT."
I left the teacher's room relieved that things didn't escalate. The class had already wrapped up, and now the corridors were bustling. Even though it was only 12 p.m., this had been my final high school class, and it ended with Ms. Rivers interrupting.
I could hear my classmates probably screaming with excitent or sothing. Now, we have a week left for our final preparation for the SAT.
At that mont, I glanced at my phone and read Alia's ssage: "I hope you rember, see you at 2 p.m."
Ah, right! With all that rush, I almost forgot
But I was planning to hit the library anyway and grab so new books.
Today, it feels like all the information I've learned from the pre-calculus book fell into place like it's neatly organized and ready to be put to use.
I entered the library and returned the PreCalculus book to the librarian. I couldn't help but wonder if she'd think I'd given up on studying after seeing it back so soon.
I an, who on Earth would go through an entire math book in just one day?
Turns out, I was wrong. The librarian accepted the book with a professional smile on her face. As I took another look at her, I couldn't help but notice that she was quite an alluring woman.
I made my way up to the shelves and took another peek at the math section. There were books on algebra and calculus, including advanced courses like Calculus I and II.
These weren't your run-of-the-mill high school textbooks; so ambitious students might tackle these for extra points in college admissions. After all, the top universities were fiercely competitive when it ca to admitting freshn.
For an unknown reasons. Mr. Johnson was also there, looking for a book, I didn't pay him much attention and chose a book to read.
I opted for an algebra book, took a seat at a nearby desk, and cracked it open. As I glanced around, I noticed a guy giving a peculiar look. I had a hunch that he had been there yesterday too.
Maybe I really was too loud during the last library visit. But it wasn't my fault; it was all thanks to Alia.
The stuff in this book was mostly just the next level of what I'd seen in pre-calc. More complex linear equations and so heavy-duty operations with complex numbers. It got deeper into the theory of polynomials and sequences.
But what really got my attention was how those linear equations painted the picture of lines and planes crisscrossing. It was like I could see it all play out in my head, you know.
Well... as long as we didn't reach beyond that third dinsion, of course.
I breezed through all of that in about 2 hours. I couldn't help but wonder why those additional high school courses dragged on for 1 or even 2 years.
Just as I was about to crack open the book on vector spaces, I heard a voice say,
"Hey, sorry I'm a bit late. The teacher didn't want to let us go. He's a cute guy."
Alia, with her almost black eyes and dark hair, had this confident, sexy strut. Her face was on the mature side, and those long legs just added to her charm. But real talk, I'm not sure if she's my type.
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