Chapter 1: The Honor Roll Curse
The buzzing of cicadas mingled with the hum of central air conditioning in Oak Ridge High's AP Calculus classroom. Twenty-three pairs of eyes stared at the whiteboard where Mr. Anderson, their wiry-framed math teacher, had just written "283 DAYS" in red Expo marker.
Summer Hayes tugged at her Ralph Lauren polo shirt collar, the school emblem itching her neck. From her usual seat in the third row, she could see Jason Reynolds slouching in the back corner, his Converse propped on the desk's metal leg. His latest programming manual peeked out from a half-open JanSport backpack.
"Quarterly assessment results were..." Mr. Anderson paused dramatically, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses, "...disappointing."
Tyler Wu snorted behind his Nintendo Switch. "Dude's been replaying this speech since freshman year."
Summer didn't turn around. Her mechanical pencil hovered over the practice SAT booklet, equations blurring as the teacher's voice sharpened:
"Jason Reynolds. Care to explain how an AP student scores 62% on English Lit?"
All heads swiveled to the back. Jason's dark curls bounced as he straightened, broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his school-issued polo. "Guess metaphors aren't my thing, sir."
Laughter rippled through the room. Summer's pencil snapped.
"While you're busy being class clown," Mr. Anderson snapped, slamming Jason's test paper on the desk, "Summer here aced every section. Again."
The clock ticked louder. Summer's cheeks burned as Jason's gaze swept over her shoulder. She could smell the Sharpie ink from his hastily-drawn "AP Calculus Sucks" doodle on Tyler's notebook.
"Maybe Summer should tutor you," Mr. Anderson continued, tapping the whiteboard marker. "Though I'm not sure even Einstein could fix this trainwreck."
The bell's electronic chirp saved them. Summer busied herself stuffing textbooks into her Longchamp tote, catching fragments of conversation:
"...Reynolds used to be valedictorian material..."
"...heard his dad's shop got shut down..."
"...total hottie though..."
"Yo Summer!" Tyler materialized at her desk, GameBoy forgotten. "Wanna join our Minecraft tournament? Jason's building a sick Hogwarts replica..."
"Can't," she cut him off, hoisting her bag. "Volunteering at the robotics lab."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jason shove his programming manual deeper into his backpack. The cover read "C++ for Game Developers" with a coffee stain shaped like Texas.
