Chapter 2

[Nick Miller]

Drumming my fingers on my desk, I review the problems before me. Objectively, AP Calculus is a hard class. Take one look at previous students and you can see the lack of sleep and happiness evident on their faces. I'm not one of these poor students. In fact, I'm the complete opposite. Some may call me a nerd, but I prefer the term intelligent individual. Either way, I'll be signing their paycheck soon enough.

AP Calculus was no challenge for me. I was the only student in Ms.Davis' class with a grade above a 90, which was a low grade for me. I understand some would kill for a grade like that, but perhaps they should just try harder. The class itself was relatively easy, but my generation continued to take shortcuts.

This particular question, however, made me nonplussed. It was the challenge question on our AP test review and I needed to solve it.

Well, perhaps I didn't need to solve it, but I was aiming towards Harvard, and getting stuck on a problem could prove troublesome.

From a logical standpoint, based on previous test scores, you could extrapolate that my score on this test wouldn't be one to be ashamed of, but I couldn't help the doubt seeping into my system.

Alice Moore jumps up from her desk behind me and puts her elbows on my shoulders.

"Nick, oh my gosh! You did an epic job at the National Spelling Bee! I was watching from my house! Those words were so gigantic, I don't know how you even knew them? Your Dad is going to be so proud!" Alice says.

Alice was quite loquacious, but the only one in this school that had an intelligence level above the average person.

In shorter terms, I'm only her friend because she is the only other person in this school with half a brain and actually knows what I'm saying.

Everyone thinks I have this peculiar language with Alice, but it's just that their vocabulary is limited to nanoscopic words like "yeah," and "bruh," and "nah," and my vocabulary is quite extensive.

"Relax, Alice." I try to mitigate the conversation. If I allow this rant to persist, I may never hear the end of it.

"It was so cool! You're so smart." Alice stuffs her binder into her backpack as I put my homework in my folder.

I give her a small smile, "The words they gave me weren't as complex as the others."

Alice grabs my shoulders and gives me a fierce shake, "C'mon, you spelled chiaroscurist. Or is it pronounced Cheeroscurist? I don't even know what it means, but you can spell it!"

"It's a painter that uses light and shade to convey-" I start to explain.

Alice cuts him off promptly, "No thanks. The bells are about to ring and I am DONE with learning today!"

She puts on her backpack and helps me pack up my own. When the bell rings, we're the first out of the classroom.

"Hey four eyes, will you do my homework?" A tall jock walks over to us with a piece of paper, presumably his homework. With an unoriginal insult like that, I could only guess that his homework was for a class I could ace without trouble.

A quick look around me only verifies what I had already assumed. The hallways are absolutely packed with students ranging from the scrawny freshman class to the big oafish seniors. Nevertheless, it was packed behind a safe capacity, meaning that there was no way to escape this confrontation.

"Four eyes, I'm talking to you. If you're not smart enough to notice. . ." He smiles and his friends laugh.

I sigh, already exasperated in their frivolous antics.

"Jake," I start, "Were you born this idiotic or did you take lessons?"

Jake steps away from his friends for a second until he is close enough to me that I can smell his body odor. It didn't help that he was wearing a tank top.

"Shut up or I'll make you." Jake narrows his eyes, peering down on me. It wasn't that hard; he was around 6' 1 and I was a measly 5' 2. Intimidating was an understatement for a man that could carry me like I weighed nothing

"That's a shame." I say, "I was hoping for a battle of wits but apparently you're unarmed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake's friends look dubious as well.

"Exactly." I state simply.

Jake and his friends gape at each other, dumbfounded.

"Whatever nerd." Jake rolls his eyes and stomps away, clearly agitated with my responses.

Alice, who I forgot was behind me in this ordeal, yells, "That was awesome, N! The sarcastic response, "I'm dying!" She pretends to fan herself.

I, on the other hand, was only bewildered, "What sarcasm?"

Alice pauses for a moment before resuming discussion with a smile on her face.

Putting a hand on my shoulder, Alice raves, "That was so cool, Nick. I'm glad you're my friend."

I glance back at her, but she's removed her hand and continues talking like nothing happened.

As Alice divulges into her monologue, I mumble, "I'm glad you're my friend too."

I don't know who I said that for, but I suppose it doesn't matter. It felt good to say it.

"Ready to walk home?" I ask Alice after she's finished speaking.

She grins in response and we continue walking towards our street.

"Are you still good for coming to my house tonight?" I asked. It's become a ritual for us both to play board games on the day of the Fall Dance. With neither of us having dates, we instead spend the extra time playing board games together. It's better than some self deprecating dance that leaves you feeling more lonely than connected.

"Sorry. I have a lot of homework to do." Alice gives me a sad face.

I want to say, I can help you! I have finished the majority of my homework, perhaps we can help each other? So many thoughts rush through my head, but none come out.
Instead I reply with a curt, "Okay."

"Can we reschedule? Are you free this weekend?" Alice offers.

Sure.

"Don't bother." I say quickly.

We walk the rest of the distance to my house in silence. For my plethora of available comebacks, I still cannot muster the words to hang out with her.

I shouldn't hang out with her anyway. Dating is useless. It just averts your attention from what's important: success.

My father reiterates this every day, and, statistically, he knows more in that field than I do. After divorcing my mother to focus on his business, he makes enough money to buy the three story mansion we live in with cash.
He just wants what is best for me, and I'm not one to contradict my father. Instead, I focus on my studies, ace my tests, and occasionally have a fun board game night with Alice.

Realizing how rude I sounded, I follow up my previous statement with, "Yeah, I have some work to do. I'll check if I'm free this weekend."
Alice doesn't respond. We're at her house anyway, and she waves goodbye to me as I continue on my way.

I sigh. AP calculus suddenly doesn't seem as pressing.