Thursday morning rolled around, and the second Ms. Ingram walked in hugging a stack of graded tests, the whole classroom vibe went dead quiet.
Most kids already had a pretty good idea how they did.
"This test was a little tricky, so there were more failing grades than usual. It's understandable," Ms. Ingram said, summing things up first.
Then, like always, she started handing them back from lowest to highest.
After passing out ten failing papers in a row, she picked up the eleventh one and actually smiled a little.
"One student improved a ton this time. Everybody should take a page out of his book." Then she called out, "George, congrats! You got your first passing grade of the year."
George practically jumped up, pumped, and headed to the front. When he grabbed his paper and saw that big red C (passing), he broke into a huge grin.
Then it hit him—he whipped around and shot Sheldon in the front row a look that said both "don't you dare" and "please, man, I'm begging you."
Once he saw Sheldon's hand wasn't going up, George relaxed and headed back to his seat.
Seeing that C on George's paper left young Sheldon totally conflicted.
But he didn't have long to dwell on it.
Ms. Ingram kept handing out tests until she only had two left.
"Sheldon, you only missed one this time—great job. Keep it up..." She handed him the second-to-last paper, full of praise.
But when Sheldon looked down and saw a B+, he just froze. He didn't even hear the rest of what she said.
This was the first time since starting school that he'd gotten anything less than an A.
For him, it felt like the end of the world.
"Okay, Sheldon, head back to your seat," Ms. Ingram said when she noticed him zoning out.
He mechanically walked back, finally snapping out of it.
Then he heard Ms. Ingram go on: "The last two problems were a bit above grade level. But I'm thrilled to see someone still aced the whole thing."
In a public middle school that's all about "feel-good learning," getting a perfect score is no small feat.
Of course, that usually meant ignoring outliers like Sheldon.
Having another kid in class who was clearly gifted at math made Ms. Ingram really happy. Smiling, she said, "Mike, come get your paper. Oh, and I've got some good news for you later."
Mike wasn't surprised at all by the perfect score. He calmly walked up, took his test, and headed back to his seat without making a big deal.
"How'd you do the last two?" Sheldon whispered, still looking a little salty.
"Just plugged in some calculus formulas—super straightforward." Mike paused, then added, "Oh, right, calculus is twelfth-grade stuff. We haven't gotten there yet."
He could tell Sheldon was upset and was trying to make him feel better, but it kinda backfired.
"How did this happen..." Sheldon muttered, spiraling into self-doubt.
He hated losing to anyone academically. Getting beat by Mike lit a fire under him.
[Intellect Attribute +2]
Thanks to Sheldon's intense emotions, Mike snagged another intellect light orb without even trying.
'What a guy!' Mike thought, crushing the orb and feeling great. He almost considered checking in on his favorite little "leek" again.
But right then, Ms. Ingram said, "Everybody else take a look at your tests. Mike, come with me—I need to talk to you."
She stepped down from the podium and waved him over. "Someone's waiting for you. I'll explain on the way."
Didn't sound like bad news, so Mike got up and followed her out of the classroom.
"You know about the school's Math Olympiad team, right?" she asked as they walked.
Mike had heard about it from Katie just yesterday, so he nodded.
"Good. What I'm about to tell you is that this math test? It was actually put together by Ms. Sharon—the twelfth-grade math teacher and the Math Olympiad coach—to scout new team members from eleventh grade."
Originally, Ms. Ingram had high hopes for Sheldon, but based on the results, he still needed more foundation.
Luckily, with Mike's perfect score, eleventh grade wasn't embarrassed.
Soon they were down the hall and at the twelfth-grade math office.
There was Ms. Sharon—a woman in her thirties wearing a retro white fleece blouse.
From her serious expression, Mike could tell she was super no-nonsense and probably tough to get close to.
No typo edition here! First release of this novel.
Standing next to her were two twelfth-graders. Mike recognized one right away: Katie.
Katie spotted Mike walking in.
She looked surprised at first, then flashed him a huge smile and gave a little nod hello.
The other twelfth-grader was a skinny, shorter guy.
He kept staring at Mike like he couldn't believe it.
That was Kevin, captain of the Math Olympiad team.
Ms. Sharon greeted Ms. Ingram first, saw her out, then turned to Mike with a puzzled look. "You're Mike?"
Clearly, someone who looked like Mike didn't scream "math nerd."
Generally speaking, the better-looking kids at school tended to spend less time studying.
You know how it is.
"Yeah, that's me," Mike said with a small nod.
"I know you!"
Before Ms. Sharon could say anything else, Kevin—the super outgoing team captain—jumped in. "Mike, right? Big football star. Didn't know you were a brain too."
Grinning with a touch of envy, Kevin came over and tried to throw an arm around Mike's shoulder.
But at barely five-foot-seven, he realized he couldn't reach.
So he just awkwardly patted Mike's arm instead.
"Alright, Kevin, settle down," Ms. Sharon said, clearly used to dealing with her hyper student.
Then the twelfth-grade math teacher launched into all the benefits of joining the Math Olympiad team.