Take My Advice

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

                Dylan and Amanda both waited for me while I took Mr. Kramer up on his offer. I had texted my mom to let her know why I’d be late, and then I hunkered down in the desk on the front row where Mr. Kramer had asked me to sit. No, taking this test wasn’t on the list of things I had to do to keep Bruce happy—this was something I was doing for myself.

                I stared at the paper in front of me, trying to harness my latent math-doing abilities. I was totally clueless on how to do that. Did I just let my mind go blank, or did I concentrate extra hard, or what?

                “Why are you scowling, Miss Gray?”

                “I’m trying to get into the math zone.”

                “You’re making this entirely too hard on yourself.” Mr. Kramer stood up from behind his desk and walked over to me. “What were you thinking about earlier when you gave me the correct answer?”

                “Nothing, really—I was just trying to save myself a whole lot of embarrassment.”

                “Because of Colby.”

                I sighed. Might as well tell him the truth. “Yes, because of Colby.”

                Mr. Kramer twitched a smile. I couldn’t decide if it made him look more friendly or more predatory. “Your ability to do math is not dependent on being in a zone, Miss Gray. Just relax.”

                I swear the ticking of the clock grew louder as I worked my way down the page. Several times I wanted to bang my head on the desk with frustration, but Mr. Kramer was watching me, so I couldn’t. Seriously, he was watching me so intently, it’s like he was a judge at a tennis match or something.

                I got to the end, wrote down my answer, and handed it over. I rose to leave, but Mr. Kramer held up his hand. “Don’t you want to know your score?”

                “Well, sure. I guess.” If there was a way to get out of it, I probably would have taken it. I didn’t have to know my score, did I? Wasn’t it purely optional?

                “Stick around a minute and I’ll grade it right now.”

                I played with the ends of my hair while I waited. It might be time for another trim. Or was it time for a whole new style—I’d have to think about that. And ask Amanda. She knew hair. She’d probably have fits if she saw the way I was pulling it through my fingers—I’d get one of her lectures on split ends.

                Finally Mr. Kramer stood and walked back over to my desk. “Congratulations,” he said, sliding the paper toward me. At the top was a B+.

                “It’s not a huge improvement, but it’s significant. And I’m sure that with your new mindset, you’ll be able to get into the A range next time.”

                “My new mindset, huh?”

                “Yes. Telling yourself you can instead of constantly telling yourself you can’t.”

                Funny. As I walked out of the classroom, Mr. Kramer didn’t seem quite so ogre-like as before.

***

                It was time to sit down and write out my column for the next week’s paper. I always enjoyed checking my e-mail to see what Ms. Young had sent over, but as I waited for my laptop to warm up, I was nervous. My advice-giving mojo had taken some serious hits, and I didn’t know if I still had what it took to write this column. I was almost scared to offer any advice at all—what if it came back to bite me, like my advice to Bruce had? I carried the power to ruin lives. That was hefty.