Math Is Hard, But Hiding My Crush Is Harder

The alarm clock rang loudly at 6 a.m., echoing through the small room at the end of the alley. Its owner – Ngoc Han, a 9th grader in class 9A1 – was still wrapped in her blanket, sleeping like the world could collapse and she wouldn’t care. Ngoc Han looked pretty ordinary: long hair tied up, skin a little tan from cycling to school, big eyes but always sleepy from lack of rest. Her family wasn’t rich, her parents worked at the market, and every morning her mom had to call her several times before she finally got up. In class, she was famous with three nicknames: “the sleeping queen, math’s enemy, and the master of fake coldness.” The truth was, Ngoc Han wasn’t cold at all. She was just shy and didn’t know how to express emotions, so she acted indifferent. Her friends often joked: “Han has two personalities – outside like a rock, inside like boiling hotpot.” – Han! You’re late for school! – her mother shouted, half worried, half annoyed. Ngoc Han lazily got up, her hair messy like a bird’s nest. After a few minutes of “quick fixing” (brushed her hair three times, brushed teeth twice, wore a wrinkled uniform like paper from a broken printer), she rushed downstairs, grabbed a piece of bread, and ran to the gate. Her companion was her old, rattling bicycle. It had been with her since 6th grade, through countless rainy and sunny days, and now was famous for three “specialties”: squeaky brakes, shaky seat, and a chain that could fall off anytime. The whole neighborhood called it “the bravery test bike.” Han pedaled hard, praying only one thing: “Please let me get to school on time, don’t let me get written in the discipline notebook again…” But fate loved teasing. At the familiar turn near the banyan tree, the chain went clank and dropped. The bike jerked, almost throwing Han onto the grass. At that moment, another bike stopped suddenly beside her. A boy looked up, the morning sunlight shining on his bright face, messy hair, and sparkling eyes like mint candy. It was Minh Khoa – the class 9A1 heartthrob, a math genius even praised more than the chalk by Mr. Hung. – Your bike broken? Let me fix it. – Khoa smiled. Ngoc Han froze. Her heart raced wildly, but she still tried to keep her “Arctic queen” look: – Yeah, it’s broken, whatever. Inside though, she was screaming: “OMG Khoa is looking at me, talking to me, touching my bike… which means he’s basically touching my whole little world ahhh!” Khoa bent down, and in less than two minutes, the chain was back in place. – Done. Let’s go, or we’ll be late. – he said gently. Han nodded and replied shortly: – Uh, thanks. But in her head, she was already composing a dramatic diary entry for tonight: “This morning, the prince of my life bent down, his hands gently fixing my shabby bike. My heart, oh my heart, from now on belongs to that smile…” They both rode toward the school gate. Han glanced at her watch: 7:25. Still five minutes before class. But what worried her wasn’t being late… The first lesson of the week was Math. Today, Mr. Hung had warned: “Oral test on linear equations in two variables. Anyone not ready gets a zero.” Ngoc Han swallowed hard, her face pale. The old bike might be saved, but could her fragile heart survive this fateful Math lesson? (End of Episode 1)