Ms. Pauley's Math Test

"Alright, time's up. Pens down," Ms. Pauley announces to the class. Her pale and frail body against the blackboard behind her makes her look a little bit like a chalk drawing, but those cold blue eyes can strike fear into people, especially those still writing after she had told them to put their pens down.

Sitting at the very back of the room, I see a few people still struggling to get a few more pen strokes in.

Thank God I am not one of them.

"If you have to make me say it again, the whole class gets a zero," Ms. Pauley says.

That seems to have done it. The classroom is now rid of any sound of pen tips scratching against paper.

A girl sitting at a desk across the room from mine turns her body toward me and meets my eyes with hers. She solemnly shakes her head while making an exaggerated sad face.

That's my friend Brooke. She has been complaining about how utterly incomprehensible this unit is since… well, since this unit started. I don't imagine the past seventy-five minutes to have been a very fun time for her.

"Make sure your names are written at the top, or you will get a zero," Ms. Pauley says.

Ms. Pauley has been threatening to give people zeros at least a dozen times a day, yet I've never heard of anyone who got a zero in her class. People have flunked, though. Many people have flunked, but none of them were zeros.

Whatever, it's not like I care. Math couldn't be any easier for me.

The bell is heard through the PA system, signaling the end of class.

"Alright everybody," Ms. Pauley says, "Good job today. Leave your tests on the desk, and you are dismissed."

Following Ms. Pauley's dismissal is a dissonant symphony composed of chair legs scraping against the floor.

One by one, the students shuffle out of the room. I, being at the very back, am one of the last ones to walk to the door.

"Glad to see you on time for the test this time, Pearce," Ms. Pauley says to me before I walk out with not a sign of a smile on her face.

"Uh, y-yes." Not sure of what to say, I respond with that and a nod and continue on.

The hallway is filled with sighs and dry chuckles. It's as if we are soldiers returning from a lost battle. Was it really that bad?

Brooke is leaning against a locker beside the door. She waits for the people to clear out of the way and jogs up to me, clutching a bright blue binder to her chest.

"Arthur, how was it?" She asks.

"Not too bad… and do I want to ask you the same thing?" I say.

Brooke shakes her head, waving her curly black hair around. "Nope."

"Yikes, that bad?" I ask, and we start walking down the hallway to the room of our next class: the dreaded biology lab.

"Worst one yet," Brooke says with a heavy sigh, "I didn't understand the last question at all. It was like French class all over again."

"That's tough."

"Man, it's all your fault." Brooke lightly punches my arm. "I've been asking you to help me study for the past few days, and you kept on telling me, 'sorry, but I am busy with something'", she says, making a mockful impression of my voice.

"Yeah, well… I was pretty busy."

"Doing what? You won't tell me."

For good reason, too, mind you.

"I was busy hunting down a global human-trafficking ring run by American billionaires," I say.

"Haha, real funny." Brooke punches me again.

Yeah, I figured.

"I didn't know you paid attention to QUALIA news, though," she says.

What now? I didn't mention anything about QUALIA.

"Huh?" I ask.

Brooke turns to me with puzzled eyes, "You know, what you were referring to. That's what QUALIA did this morning." She takes out her phone and opens up the news app to show me. The first article's headline reads, "QUALIA BUSTS BILLION-DOLLAR TRAFFICKING RING. SIX CEOS ARRESTED."

Already? It's been like two hours. Well, I get that the news reporters are quick, but how did Brooke hear about it so fast? I never knew she was the kind to check the morning news.

"R-Right, that's it. I heard it on the radio earlier," I say.

"Oh, that makes sense. This is some pretty big news," Brooke says while putting her phone back into her pocket, "QUALIA hasn't pulled off something this big in a long time, if ever. I mean, they haven't done much at all in the last year."

Really? Last time I heard, Paris would have become a war zone had we not intervened. Well, I suppose that wasn't covered by the media as to mitigate panic, but I'm sure we've done something worth mentioning in the last year.

"Is that right?" I say.

"Yeah, whatever. It's not like you care about that stuff. Anyway, did you sign up for the Boston trip?" She asks as we enter the school's stairwell.

"Yea. It seems like a cool place to check out."

"Have you chosen who you want to share a hotel room with?"

"No, not yet. What are the rooms again? Quadruples?" I ask.

"Yep." She nods.

"I haven't put much thought into it. Zach is staying with his siblings. Maybe I can ask to squeeze with them?"

"No need to bother them. I've got Avery and Skylar. Wanna join us?" Brooke asks with a smirk.

Is she joking?

"What? No, what are you trying to do?"

"What's wrong with it?" She asks, obviously feigning ignorance.

"You tell me."

Brooke giggles. "Aw, what a shame. Skylar was looking forward to it."

Wha- Did she tell her friends that I was going to stay with them? And they believed it?

"You are… really something else, Brooke," I say.

"Wow, thanks for that." There is an unsarcastically bright smile on Brooke's face, one that makes me question her mind sometimes.

I push open the door of the stairwell on the second floor. The hallway here is also crowded, just like always.

A few more meters till we reach the bio-lab. Every step forward I take makes me want to skip this period more and more.

"By the way, how's your bio term project coming along?" Brooke asks.

"I don't want to talk about it," I say while shaking my head.

"Yikes, that bad?"

That's literally what I said to her a few minutes ago. It's kind of weird to be told that by someone who most definitely just failed a test.

She's got the right to say that, though. While Brooke is helpless with math, she is an absolute genius when it comes to biology and chemistry. Okay, genius might be a strong word. Let's just say she is well above average, and I am well below, which makes her a genius to me.

"Ooh, I've got an idea. How about I help you with the term project, and you help me with every math and physics test for the rest of the semester?" Brooke asks.

"I guess that would be fine, since I've been helping you anyway, but what about your own term project?" I ask.

"I finished it."

"Already?"

"Yep. Crammed it in last night."

"But we had a math test coming up."

"Well, I figured since you weren't helping me study, I was hopeless anyway." Brooke smiles and sticks the tip of her tongue out.

There is some degree of truth in that.

"Sure, alright. That's a deal," I say and offer Brooke a handshake.

She takes it gladly.