ACT 1, SCENE 8

ACCORDING TO VIETNAMESE SUPERSTITION, POORLY-TIMED HAIRCUTS ENGENDERED MEMORY LOSS. Specifically, one right before an exam could lead to Jackie forgetting everything she learned. However, she didn't need bad luck to do poorly in math class. Her grade slipping from a low C to failing happened all on its own. She rubbed her tired eyes and tried to concentrate on her textbook, but the numbers and equations looked like a completely different language.

Truth be told, Jackie hadn't exactly noticed her worsening grades. She'd been so caught up in the play and rehearsals that tests and homework just weren't the priority. Class time was wasted on running through lines in her head instead of paying attention. Besides, school was boring. What did it have to do with theatre anyway? 

The sound of a chair being pulled back made Jackie tense in surprise. She sharply inhaled the familiar smell of expensive cologne—cardamom and geranium—and looked up to see Aarav sliding into the seat in front of her. He wore a black leather blazer over a dark green button-down. 

"Never thought I'd see you in the library after school." He folded his arms.

"I have a math test to study for." Jackie bit her lip and stared down at the table while she wrapped her arms around herself. If her grade fell any lower, she'd be forbidden to participate in any extracurriculars—including the play. 

"Didn't know studying was in your vocabulary." Aarav smirked slightly before glancing at the time. 

Her eyes flickered to the pencil laying on table, and she wrapped her arms around herself. "Why are you still here after school?" 

"Working on college apps. I got a couple of teachers to read over my essays as well as write reference letters." Aarav removed his glasses and massaged his temples. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to write about."

"Write about pugs."

"Who would write their Stanford essay about pugs?"

"It's a huge world. There's gotta be someone out there who did." Jackie shrugged. Truth to be told, the tiny wrinkly-faced dog was the first thing that popped into her mind. 

Sighing, she laid her head on the table before fidgeting and sitting back up. "Must be nice to be graduating instead of being stuck figuring out geometry."

Jackie rested her chin in her palm while flipping through the colorful explanations of triangles. She rubbed her forehead and tried to focus, but nothing made sense. The probation letter stuck like glue in her mind, the bold print glaring at her from the crumpled sheet. Jackie only had two more weeks to improve her math average. One more terrible test grade and it'd be over for her—her grade would plunge beyond saving.

Aarav raised an eyebrow and adjusted his glasses. "Geometry, huh? That's easy." 

"Yay, I'm so dumb that I'm failing an easy class." The girl laid her head on the open textbook. "You and Mr. Wilson might as well recast the lead. I'm not that good anyway." 

He clicked his tongue, dark eyes staring down at her in disapproval. He had the kind of gaze that could see right through anything, picking out every microscopic flaw in her. 

Jackie fidgeted and reached up to toy with her hair ribbon. "What?" 

He shrugged. "Didn't think you were one for giving up so easily." 

"Yeah, well..." Jackie tried to meet his eyes but their intensity seemed to burn holes through her. She swallowed hard and looked away. "I keep forgetting my lines. I can't function properly when I'm on stage anymore. I don't even know if I'm able to pass this test." 

She shook her head in frustration and dug her fingers into her hair. "I'm just stupid, okay? Find someone better." 

"Enough with the pity party." He rolled his eyes and said, "Let's get going." Aarav gathered up her things for her and slid wrinkled sheets of notebook paper into the textbook before shutting it. 

"What?" 

"The library is closing soon." 

Her eyes snapped to the clock. Sure enough, he was right. The minutes were ticking closer to four and soon they'd be forced out. She frowned. Today, like other days, had not brought much progress. Jackie had only gotten through three out of the twenty questions on the review. 

"Where are you going?" Realizing that Aarav was heading out, she chased after him—no easy feat with short legs and heeled ankle boots. She had to walk twice as fast to keep up with his long strides. 

"Wherever you want to go."

"Huh?" Jackie stumbled and nearly tripped into him before steadying herself on the edge of a table. "Why are you stealing my textbook? No judgment if you think geometry is fun—well, actually, there is judgment. You've got to be crazy to like math."

He cleared his throat and stared coldly at her. 

She sucked in a breath. "Anyways, the point is I need that thing." 

"I'm helping you study," Aarav said matter-of-factly and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Where do you want to go?" 

"Isn't that too much trouble?" Her eyebrows furrowed. Not that he was some cruel dictator, but people like him didn't go around helping others from the goodness of his heart. At least Jackie didn't think so.

"It'd be more trouble to recast the lead if you're out the play." 

There it was. So he did have an ulterior motive after all. 

Jackie folded her arms and scrunched her face in thought. His house? She didn't know how long the drive was. Her home? No, Madison was likely to be around. Jackie shuddered at the thought of her perfect stepsister learning she was struggling with math. 

"There's a coffee shop nearby," Aarav offered, a touch of impatience to his voice. 

"Yay coffee shop! I love coffee," she spluttered out. "It's got hot chocolate and free wifi. And coffee."

. . .

The two huddled in the corner by the window, papers piled on the small round table with a textbook open in the center. It was nearing half-past five. In the single hour and thirty minutes, Aarav managed to cover nearly the entire chapter's worth of triangles and segments. And finished off three coffee orders. 

"So the distance is the square root of forty-one?" Jackie's voice wavered while she scrutinized her work. Did it look right? She couldn't even tell beyond the mess of numbers.

"Forty-one?" 

Jackie sighed when she saw his brow furrowed. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into her. "It's wrong, isn't it?"

"Math isn't real," she whined. "It's just a concept created by sadists to torture students. How am I supposed to bring up my average by four points in just a week?" 

"Anything's possible. Ask for extra credit. I was barely making an A in physics, but I managed to bring it up to a 96."

Jackie groaned and laid her head on the paper. "Your situation and mine are completely different scenarios. Also, Mr. Whitlock said no extra credit." 

"Think of it as method acting," suggested Aarav. "Your character has to save Leon when all the odds are stacked against her, the same way you have to save your math grade."

"Those are two completely different things!" She started scratching out her work but he lifted her hand from the page. 

"Let me see," Aarav stated firmly. She slid the paper over and he scanned her handwriting, trying to decipher what she'd done. 

"You accidentally added the four and one instead of subtracting. It's messed up the entire distance formula."

"Just one little mistake?" The girl raised her eyebrows.

"See, you understand the concept. You just keep messing up the calculation."

"If only calculators were allowed."

"That defeats the purpose of solving the problem yourself."

"The real world has calculators!"

No one in life was going to ask her to solve distances. Nevertheless, she redid the problem with his suggestion. He checked her work and a small, satisfied smile crossed his face. 

"So it is five?" Jackie asked. 

Aarav nodded which made her mouth fall open. Did she actually get a math question right for once? Pride welled up in her chest. Sure, it might've been a simple question for Aarav, but she'd been struggling for the past couple of weeks. Maybe more easy math was fun. She liked getting satisfaction from figuring out a problem. 

"Thanks again," she told him and took a sip of her hot chocolate. It was only autumn—barely cold at all—but she loved sweet things. 

"Don't bother." Aarav shrugged and adjusted his glasses. "Guess I can add charity to my college applications."  

"Hey, I'm not just a charity case." Jackie scowled. 

"No, of course not. You come with other qualities like whipped cream on your nose." 

Hastily she wiped at her face with a napkin. Upon seeing his crooked half-smile, she took a spoon and dabbed some on him. "There, now you can't be talking." 

"You could've avoided my glasses," he grumbled and cleaned off the lenses. "In all seriousness, tutoring someone boosts my resume." 

Cheerfully, she licked the rest of the whipped cream off her spoon. "Where are you applying anyway? NYU?" 

Jackie hadn't looked much into colleges but it was common knowledge that NYU had a good drama department. Someone like him could fit right in.

"Stanford," he said simply and absently stirred his coffee. Not that he had any reason to—he took it with no sugar and no creamer.

She blinked. Madison, as Mr. Aster never failed to remind the family, was applying there. His alma mater.

"I didn't bother telling anyone else," he continued. "You know how crazy some parents can be when it comes to education."

"You don't need everyone talking behind your back if you get a rejection." 

"Precisely." Aarav's fingers, long and calloused, curled around the insulated paper cup. There was a small jagged line on the back of his hand in the shape of a lightning bolt, a faded pink and white at the ends. Like Harry Potter—though Jackie had never been interested in the series.

His hands looked like piano player hands. Or violin. Or some sort of instrument. Jackie's parents tried making her take piano lessons when she was six to no avail. She didn't have the discipline for practice and would whine before every class. Quickly, the girl swallowed a mouthful of whipped cream and glanced back down at her hot chocolate before Aarav could notice her staring.

"My dad would love you. He'd wish I was more like you. He'll want to adopt you and take you home with them so he can finally have a perfect son." Jackie laughed ruefully. What did he need to worry about rejection? He was the model student, always so put-together. Around him and Madison, she was a chaotic mess. 

"It's just, well, everyone's got all these expectations," started Aarav. "Feels like I'm constantly trying to catch up but every single time I come close, the bar keeps being raised." 

His hands twitched and he laid them flat on the table. Sitting directly across from him, Jackie could see distinctly the dark bags beneath his eyes despite the glare of his glasses. 

"And you want to make it stop. It's like being on a roller coaster, all these twists and turns, all the ups and downs. You wish there was a pause button to freeze life for a minute and catch a breath." The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rushed ramble. She blushed and looked down at her mug of hot chocolate. 

"Of course," she clarified, "I don't claim to understand you perfectly."

"No, that's pretty spot on," Aarav confirmed. His phone dinged with a new message, and he spared a cursory glance before rolling his eyes. 

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

"Just my mom. She's asking if I've eaten yet." 

A soft laugh escaped Jackie's lips. Má did the same thing. Not to mention the constant berating for being too skinny. Mr. Aster never did anything similar to Madison. Speaking of which…

"Out of curiosity," she started, "why do you hate Madison?" 

"That's right, you two are sisters." He snorted softly. 

"Stepsisters."

No one could mistake the two for being blood-related. Madison had a willowy frame with deep red hair and light green eyes. Jackie was small, barely reaching five feet, and had pin-straight black hair that reached to her waist. Her eyes were brown, not the kind that turned golden in the light but a deep, dark brown that almost resembled ink. 

"Why do you two hate each other?" she asked, remembering Madison's snide comments at mealtimes. 

"I find her presence insufferable, she thinks I'm a prick. She thinks she's better than me, I think I'm better than her." Aarav coolly sipped his coffee. "You want to know who's her competition for valedictorian?"

Jackie looked up and nodded. It started to dawn on her with Madison's constant gripes about coming in second best. 

"Me." 

"So you're currently ranked first in the senior class and she wants to take you down." She swirled her spoon around the hot chocolate, watching the warm brown lighten once the remaining whipped cream was mixed in. 

"You know, she once complained about a stepsister saying her house was haunted." Aarav smirked slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Care to explain?" 

Her cheeks burned. She rested her chin in her palms in an attempt to hide the redness. "You've seen the giant mansion. It's spooky. It's like the house in every horror movie with some supernatural monster that kills everyone." 

He snorted. "You're ridiculously dramatic." 

"I'm not exaggerating!" Jackie huffed and slammed her hands on the table, causing their cups to rattle. "All those dark corridors give me the creeps. It's like someone died in the place and became a ghost to haunt all the following occupants." 

"And now you're sprinkling a circle of salt in front of your bedroom door every night." Aarav hummed and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. 

She straightened up and looked at Aarav attentively. "Does that stop ghosts?" 

Now he raised both eyebrows. "I was being sarcastic. Don't waste salt on stupid things like imaginary spirits."

"They are not imaginary." The chills running down her spine every time she walked through the mansion's winding hallways were most definitely real. The low temperatures were no coincidence. It wasn't like it would take time for warm air to circulate or anything. Nope, not at all. 

Aarav rolled his eyes. "Fine, go sprinkle salt."

"Thank you very much, I will." 

"You know, there's also a superstition that spilling it is bad luck."

Jackie froze and narrowed her eyes at him. "So which one is true?" 

"Maybe both. Do you want to sacrifice good fortune for ghosts?" 

She sniffed and wrapped her arms around herself. "You're mean," she complained. "Even when you're helpful, you're still mean."

A bemused smile flitted across his face. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. Better hope the ghosts don't drag you to hell."