Chapter 2 The Genius Nobody Saw Coming
1078 Words
By the time lunch rolled around, I had memorized the entire school map, aced two pop quizzes, embarrassed a senior in Advanced Physics, and been asked—twice—if I was actually human.
“Dude, how do you even know that stuff?” Ryan muttered as we walked toward the cafeteria. “You’ve been here for, like, five hours.”
I shrugged. “It’s not that hard. They’re still using a second edition bio textbook. I read the fourth edition over break.”
“You read textbooks over break?” Skylar said, wrinkling her nose like I’d just confessed to enjoying cardboard sandwiches. “You’re one of those.”
“Those?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you know… geniuses. Brainiacs. Robots in hoodies.”
I smiled. “Flattered.”
Ryan smirked. “You don’t want to be perfect and hot, Zen. You’re going to break the school.”
I didn’t say anything. But I didn’t deny it either.
The truth was, I wasn’t just some tomboy with a mean left hook. I was top of every class at my old school. Full academic scholarship to Greenwich—though Dad tried to buy me in anyway. I took college-level calculus when I was thirteen. Physics and chemistry were my playgrounds. I could quote Shakespeare, decode ancient Greek, and probably hack the school servers blindfolded.
And I loved it.
People always assumed I was either smart or athletic. Never both. But I was. I worked harder than anyone else. I trained before school, studied after, and never stopped pushing myself to be better. Stronger. Smarter. Sharper.
Because I had four older brothers who were brilliant and relentless. Because my mom wanted a princess and got a fighter. Because the world didn’t expect me to be great—so I made sure I was.
---
The cafeteria looked more like a resort buffet than a school lunchroom. Marble counters, neon lighting, smoothie bar, sushi station, you name it. Students lounged like models at a spa retreat, sipping sparkling water and gossiping in designer uniforms.
As soon as I stepped in, the room quieted.
People turned. Whispered.
I ignored them and grabbed a tray, heading for the salad bar. Ryan trailed behind, chewing on a breadstick like it was a microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, behold—the enigma, the legend, the storm in sneakers: Zendaye Egan, the boy-girl genius ninja of Greenwich High.”
“Do you ever stop talking?” I asked, grabbing cherry tomatoes.
“Not unless I’m unconscious,” he replied brightly.
We sat at a mostly empty table, which didn’t stay empty for long. Within minutes, curious students circled around, pretending not to look while absolutely looking.
Then he walked in.
Brian Carter.
Wearing a different varsity jacket. Surrounded by the usual entourage—football players, cheerleaders, admirers.
His eyes scanned the cafeteria like a king entering court. He spotted me. Hesitated.
Then walked straight over.
Skylar’s mouth dropped open. Ryan leaned back like he was watching a soap opera.
Brian stopped beside our table, tray in hand. “This seat taken?”
I looked up at him slowly. “There are twelve empty tables.”
He grinned. “Yeah, but you’re more interesting than the salad bar.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t stop him as he sat. His friends stared like he’d just eaten raw kale on purpose.
“So,” he said casually, “you’re the new guy causing all the commotion.”
“Apparently,” I replied.
“You embarrassed Cole Harmon in Physics this morning.”
“He corrected me. He was wrong.”
“And you quoted Einstein.”
“He misquoted him.”
Brian leaned in. “So, you’re not just all talk and attitude—you’ve got brains too.”
“Scary, isn’t it?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “A little.”
Ryan cleared his throat loudly. “Brian, this is Zen. Zen, this is Brian. Brian is basically the school mascot. Zen is—well—everything else.”
Brian chuckled. “I’ve heard.”
He kept looking at me like I was a Rubik’s cube with a missing side. Trying to figure out what didn’t fit. Why I felt different. Why something about me unsettled him.
I didn’t give him answers.
---
By the time classes ended, I had offers to join the robotics team, mathletes, track and field, basketball, chess club, and drama.
“Drama?” I asked, holding up the flyer.
“Apparently someone saw you roast that kid in Lit and thought you’d be great at monologues,” Ryan said, texting with one hand, sipping a smoothie with the other.
I laughed. “Hard pass.”
“Coach Hayes wants to see you,” said a girl with platinum braids. “Something about the varsity team.”
“What team?” I asked.
She shrugged. “He coaches three. Take your pick.”
---
Coach Hayes looked like someone who had won a war with his bare hands. Broad, barrel-chested, and always wearing a whistle like it was a badge of honor.
“You’re Zen?” he said, eyeing me.
“Yup.”
“You play?”
“Everything.”
He handed me a ball. “Show me your free throw.”
I nailed it.
“Three-pointer.”
Swish.
“Full court.”
I shot. Net.
He blinked. “Tryouts are Thursday. You’re already on the roster.”
I left the gym with my name already on two team sheets.
---
Later that evening, I unpacked in my dorm room—minimal, clean, books stacked like trophies. My roommate hadn’t arrived yet. Good. I liked space. Quiet.
My phone buzzed.
Zain: Heard you scared a football captain into silence today. Proud of you.
Zachary: Don’t forget to stretch before training.
Zayden: Want me to send new sparring gear?
Zavier: Mom says eat something green.
I smiled.
Ryan texted next.
Ryan: You’re a menace. Skylar says you might be a god.
Me: She’s not wrong.
---
As the sun dipped behind the towers of Greenwich High, I stood on the dorm balcony overlooking the field. Students gathered in clusters, laughter echoing into the twilight.
I could feel it already—this place didn’t know what to make of me.
Not a girl, not a boy. Not a jock, not a nerd. Not soft, not cruel.
A mystery.
A threat.
A challenge.
And that’s exactly how I liked it.
---
- Writer
