Episode:4
799 Words
BOOM! The moment hit like a runaway train in a cartoon.
“Okay, class!” Hari yelled, his voice loud enough to wake a coma patient. Chalk dust floated around him like he was a magician in a cheesy movie. “What’s the value of *x* in this mess?”
He pointed at the whiteboard like it was a cursed treasure map. The equation? A total monster—*x*’s, *y*’s, and brackets dancing like they were in a haunted math party.
Hands flew up like they were dodging bees. The brainy kids, the “I’ll solve it or bust” crew—they were *pumped*.
But Sarah?
She was a deer in headlights. Frozen solid. A statue with a pulse. Her hand stuck to the desk like it was superglued. She stared at a smudge on her sneaker like it was hiding the meaning of life. *Be the smudge. Live the smudge. Smudge life.*
The universe, though? It’s the king of shade.
“SARAH!” Alex’s voice cut through the room like a ninja sword.
“What’s the answer?”
*PANIC BUTTON SMASHED!*
Her head popped up like a jack-in-the-box. Eyes big as pizza pies. Heart banging like a drummer at a rock concert.
Every kid stared at her. It felt like she’d tripped into a comedy show with no lines.
She stood up, wobbly like a baby giraffe. Her brain screamed: *Say something cool!*
Nada. Nothing. Zip.
Her throat was dry as a desert. Her tongue felt like a brick. The numbers on the board looked like alien graffiti ready to zap her.
“I… um… I…” she squeaked, quieter than a mouse in slippers.
“I don’t know.”
*KABOOM!*
The class lost it. Laughs exploded like popcorn in a microwave. One kid wheezed like a broken squeaky toy. Another snorted like a pig on rollerblades.
Sarah's face? Redder than a chili pepper in a hot tub.
*This is it. I’m done. Math and shame have ended me.*
Alex raised his hand. “QUIET!” he roared, sounding like a superhero shutting down a villain. The giggles died like a phone with no battery.
Sarah stood there, a statue of pure cringe. She prayed to vanish to Mars or maybe just explode. Either was fine.
Finally, she flopped into her chair like a sack of sad potatoes. *Chair, eat me. Please.*
Worst. Day. EVER.
The rest of class? Total blur. Alex kept talking, but it sounded like the grown-ups in a Snoopy cartoon—*wah wah wah*. Sarah stared at her desk, doodling invisible squiggles with a shaky finger, her brain stuck on *rewind*.
“I don’t know.” The laughs. Alex’s stare.
She caught him glancing at her—once, twice, maybe three times. Not mean, not nice—just that “I knew you’d flop” grin.
*Why is his grin so STRONG?*
Then—*HALLELUJAH!* The bell rang like a choir of angels.
Sweet, sweet freedom.
“We’ll keep going next time,” Alex said, like he hadn’t just crushed someone’s soul.
He shot Sarah a look. She couldn’t crack it, but it zapped her like a stray spark.
She didn’t budge. Couldn’t budge. She sat there till the room emptied, silence creeping in like an awkward high-five.
Then—*ZOOM!* She sprinted.
Straight to the bathroom. The hideout for crying teens and smudged eyeliner. She splashed cold water on her face like it was magic potion. It helped. A little.
She looked up. And there… *oh no.*
Riya. In the mirror. Slapping on lip gloss like she was painting the Mona Lisa. Perfect hair. Perfect pose. A villain in a sparkly top.
The same Riya who nearly died laughing at Sarah’s math disaster.
Riya saw Sarah's reflection and grinned like a shark spotting a snack. Her smirk could scare a puppy and ruin your Wi-Fi.
“Well, *look* who it is—our math *genius*!” Riya said, her voice sweet like poisoned candy.
“Class was *wild* today,” she added, tossing her hair like she was in a music video. “Did you have a blast, Sarah, or was it just me?”
Sarah's teeth clenched. Her brain cooked up a zillion savage comebacks: *Oh, Riya, did your brain break from laughing, or is your face just stuck like that?*
But her mouth? Locked tighter than a bank vault. Her heart was a volcano, but her lips were on snooze.
Riya slurped up Sarah’s silence like it was bubble tea.
“Oh, Sarah's” she purred, leaning in like a movie bad guy, “if you don’t fire back, the whole school’s gonna make your bus boy crush the juiciest gossip by Monday. Better grow a spine, or you’re *toast*!”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. *Oh, it’s ON, Riya. Bring it.*
- Writer
