In Search of Tomorrow ✓

Four

"Why couldn't we go in the car with him?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. Her bottom lip even seemed to be trembling. "He's nice. He helped clean up my milk last night. And--" She stifled an enormous yawn and added, "I don't like walking in the rain."

I stroked Maddie's stringy, soaking-wet hair and said, "We can't just get in the car with people we don't really know. Come on, we're almost there."

We were all drenched through by the time we reached the bus stop, but I figured anything was better than getting in that plush silver convertible with someone whose driving skills were probably subpar.

~*~*~

The bus trip dried out my hair a little, but it was frizzy by the time we arrived at school. I just pulled it into a sloppy sock bun and took Maddie's hand, walking her to the elementary school.

Our town was so small that the elementary, middle, and high school was all on the same campus, and the only school in the area was public. I figured that was why rich people like Cameron Maddox attended--faced with any other option, he probably would have gone to some exclusive prep school.

I had math first, and I surprised myself by pulling out the notes on conic sections Cameron had made for me and reading them as I walked. For some reason, I was determined not to fail this test. After all, I'd studied for it, and I'd been perfectly capable of getting good grades before everything had happened. What was stopping me now?

Of course, it would take a while before my F in math was brought up to a passing grade, and that didn't even account for my other five classes. I still didn't think I could find the time.

When I pulled out my neatly printed math homework and handed it to Mr. Roberts, my precalc teacher, at the beginning of class, he was completely taken aback. "Thank you for actually deciding to do your homework," he said, raising a pale yellow eyebrow as I blushed and hurried back to my seat. If my teachers knew half of my situation, they would think twice before they implied I was a slacker.

The rest of the class filed in slowly--I knew most of their names from freshman year, when I'd been a social butterfly, but I hadn't spoken to many of them in what felt like ages. Mr. Roberts started the class as soon as a tall, blonde-haired girl walked inside; she must have been new this year, because I didn't know who she was.

"As is written on your syllabus, you have a test on conic sections today," said Mr. Roberts, taking a thick stack of papers from his desk and tapping it on the table surface so that the edges of the pages lined up. "As long as you've paid attention in class and done your homework, you should be in good shape."

Or had a tutoring session with that miracle-worker named Cameron Maddox, I thought to myself, twirling my mechanical pencil between my fingers. I wondered if it was the same one I'd used last night while Cameron had been over.

Mr. Roberts was passing out papers face-down, handing them to the first person in the row, who passed them back. I took a stack of five sheets and took one before handing the rest to the girl behind me.

"You have thirty minutes," said Mr. Roberts when everyone had received their papers. "You may begin."

I quickly flipped over my test paper and scanned the first problem, adrenaline kicking in. This feeling of wanting to succeed on a test felt almost familiar--if I reached out for it I felt like I could almost grab it and identify it. Twirling my hair around my index finger, I thought back to what Cameron had said last night about graphing conic sections.

The center...that was (5, 2), right? And the graph was a hyperbola. I quickly sketched it out and checked my work before moving on to the second problem. A quick glance at the clock; I still had plenty of time.