Hunter: "Remember our first Mathletes meet? That was intense."

Alex: "Dude, don't even get me started. I couldn't believe what happened to Eric."

Azalea: "You can say that again. Thank goodness you were there, Alex. Hannah said she never could've done so well if it hadn't been for you."

Hannah Ivory Mun:

A little over a month after Hunter's mom's funeral, the Varsity Mathletes were preparing for our first big competition. Azalea scheduled two-hour sessions every day after school for the entire week so we could get ready for competition on Thursday. She, Hunter, Alex, and I had been practicing together exclusively for the past few days, but Azalea decided it would be best if the remainder of our practices until Thursday were with the rest of the team.

The other four members were boys. The first two, Calvin and Evan, I had just met this year. Calvin was a transfer student from a private school, and Evan was military. The other two were a senior-and-sophomore brainiac brother duo whom I'd known since kindergarten. Their American names were Eric and Stefan Kim, but I knew them as 민준—Minjoon—and 건우—Kunwoo.

I didn't know their parents very well; but from the interactions I'd had with them in the past, I could tell they were the hard-driving type, just like mine. And their sons followed their example without wavering—studying competitively, tirelessly, mercilessly; they were academic Olympians vying for the shining gold medals of straight A's and perfect standardized-test scores.

On more than one occasion, my parents had invited them over for dinner and spent the entire meal rambling endlessly about their "wonderful intellectual example," urging me to follow their lead and aspire to do more than design dresses and manufacture makeup.

I usually just brushed stuff like that off. I had already accepted that I would never be good enough for either of my parents. But even though I knew I had talents, whether or not they were Asian enough for the world to laud, I guess some small part of me still wanted to show that I was worthy and competent, capable of perfection. And I'd be lying if I said at least a little of that didn't bleed over into Mathletes.

That Tuesday, I was the first to make it to the classroom Azalea had claimed for our after-school practice. I was just settling in when I heard the soft patter of sneakers plodding through the door behind me.

I swiveled my head to face the room's entrance, spotted Stefan Lim as he entered and waved stiffly.

"Hi, Hannah," he said in a low voice.

"Hey."

He nodded, eyes darting away. "So, um...how many practice problems have you worked since yesterday?"

"Only about thirty," I answered dismissively. "I had way too much homework to get any real practice in."

"Oh, okay. Uh..." he paused uneasily, then looked around. "Hey, Hannah, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah." I straightened my back. "What is it?"

"I was wondering if, maybe, well..."

"Stefan, what are you doing!?" stormed the voice of Eric through the doorway as he stepped angrily into view. "We're here to practice, not socialize. Crack open that derivative notebook and get going."

"Eric," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "He was just asking a question."

"Well, he should be answering questions. And so should you, Hannah. Our first competition is in two days. We don't have time to be giggling and farting around."

"...He's right," Stefan mumbled hesitantly. "Let's practice."

He took a seat next to me and opened his notebook.

I stared up at Eric and shook my head at him. What a tool.

****

Thursday morning, I woke up shivering in my bed; I was almost too nervous to function. I managed to quaver from beneath my covers, sliding my feet into the soft slippers waiting beside my nightstand. The chill of the room sliced through my pajamas' thin fabric as I hurried for the bathroom.

I washed my face, then swiftly smeared and powdered makeup across it, barely even noticing a tiny streak of lipstick that had landed outside my lower lip's boundary. I brushed my teeth, brushed my hair, stared pleadingly at the mirror as I strode through the bathroom's exit—begging my reflection to behave as I shut off the lights.

Breakfast-table conversation was monotone and practiced as usual.

"Good morning, Hannah Ivory," my mother greeted me.

"Good morning, Mom, Dad," I responded, nodding to my father who sat across from my space at the table. "Our first Mathletes competition is today," I added.

"Wonderful," my father said, though his face betrayed not a single ounce of wonder. "Make us proud."

"Of course," I answered, nodding quickly. I paused. "Oh, um...Mom and Dad?"

They turned their eyes to me but said nothing.

"Could I maybe...stay after school to watch the football team practice again?"

"Hannah, we've talked about this," my father said. "You're only allowed to stay after school during weeks you don't have exams. You have an English test and a history paper due tomorrow, and you're already missing class to participate in the math competition today. You can't afford to lose any more study time."

"...Dad, it's just one game—"

"After school, I will pick you up at the usual time, and I expect you to be there without delay. Is that clear?"

I nodded silently, then glanced to the left at my mother who was seated beside me, her face just as stony and resolute as my father's.

I wanted to argue, to say something about how unfair they were being; but I knew there was no point. Once Phillip Mun had made up his mind—and his wife's—there was no persuading either of them.

****

I pressed a thumb against my key fob as I stepped out onto the parking lot, locking my car before I heading toward Gallensley's entrance. I greeted Azalea, who was standing outside directing all the Mathletes to the Student Lounge. She told me to wait for her there—and that Eric and Stefan had already arrived.

Both eyes rolled inside my head. Great.

I trekked into the Student Lounge and took my seat quietly.

"Hi, Hannah!" Stefan's sudden and jovial greeting squeaked out from behind me, and I jumped in my chair.

The heck?

I managed to compose myself before turning, flashed a disinterested smile, then pulled out my practice book for some last-minute review.

"Hannah," said Eric in a much less friendly tone as he strode through the door, "Stefan and I were just discussing the line-up. Since the other team is likely to open with their most skilled team members, we were thinking that Alex, Hunter, and I should be the first three to the buzzers, with you and Calvin and Stefan to relieve us in the second round."

"I don't care," I said icily. "Do what you want. Just make sure you clear it with Azalea first." I added that last part purely out of spite—I knew how much it bothered him that Azalea held the leadership.

He scowled for a moment, then regained his sneering poise. "You know, Hannah, you needn't be so confrontational. We are teammates, after all."

"Eric," I breathed, "just stop. You are so full of yourself."

He chuckled, smiling in my direction. "Whatever you say, Hannah."

I reached inside my purse to retrieve a pair of earphones and stuck them in my head. I wouldn't let him get to me—he wasn't worth it. I considered rifling for some lipstick as well; maybe I could apply a new coat, then laugh at whatever crap he spewed about "needing to study, not accessorize."

Just as Eric raised a hand to adjust his glasses, Alex marched through the door, both hands tucked neatly into his pockets.

My eyes must have grown twenty shades brighter—I could feel warmth glowing through my cheeks. "Hi, Alex," I greeted him.

"Hey, Hannah," came his cheerful yet masculine tone.

I could listen to that voice all day long.

"Alex," Eric spoke up, his words business as always. "I was just discussing with Hannah how I thought you and Hunter and I should open the competition since we're quantitatively the highest-achieving members of the team, based on practice the past few weeks."

"Wait, what about Azalea? She always gets the highest score out of—"

"Yeah, but she's not exactly the coolest head, if you catch my drift. She flounders too easily." He flashed a mischievous grin. "We need strong, dedicated resilience in this first round."

Alex paused, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

I could tell he wasn't used to dealing with the Kims and their level of arrogance—simply sitting next to them was like drowning in an ocean of self-righteousness.

"Ignore him, Alex," I said. "He's honestly just wasting time until Azalea gets here. She's the one who'll actually decide anyway. Oh, look! Here she comes now." I twisted my body to face the doorway. "Hi, Azalea!" I waved, relieved to see the real captain of the team.

"Hannah," she flashed a tired yet eager smile. Hunter, Calvin, and Evan followed her inside as she turned to address all of us. "Good morning, team. Thank you all so much for coming early. We've trained really hard, and I know you guys are ready for this. Let's knock 'em dead." Her face, her stance, everything about her was strong and confident. I felt a surge of assurance flow through me just watching her.

We've got this—we're going to win.

****

Competition began at the start of first period. The Mathletes Club had the entire auditorium booked, and it was decorated with miniature podiums topped with scratch paper and red buzzers.

My heart was thudding incessantly, pounding inside me as Azalea announced the opening line-up: "For the first round, Stefan, Hannah, Eric, and I will compete. In the second round, whichever of us scored the fewest points will be replaced. Hunter, you'll be the first replacement, followed by Alex, then Evan, then Calvin." She looked up from the page she held and smiled. "We've got this, you guys. Let's show them how hard we've worked."

Eric ambled forward almost instantly and grabbed the foremost podium. Azalea walked calmly and confidently to the one on his left, Stefan to the one on his right.

I stood next to Stefan uneasily, expecting him to glare at me smugly, but his eyes were surprisingly warm and friendly. "Good luck, Hannah," he whispered to me.

I nodded back lightly, then steeled myself as I took a deep breath.

The first round consisted of ten questions and lasted five minutes. Each time a question popped on the screen, both teams had thirty seconds to work the problem, either in their head or on scratch paper, with each correct answer gaining twenty-five points for the team that buzzed it.

Azalea buzzed in for the first question, delivering the problem's solution within seconds. Then Eric answered. Then Stefan. I managed to lock in the next one correctly, then Azalea answered again. Eric smashed in the next two, Stefan cleared another one, and the other team picked up the rest.

At the end of the round, we were awarded two hundred of the available two hundred fifty points. Azalea high-fived us all, except for Eric, who didn't want to surrender his palm to such "unbecoming" behavior.

"Alright, Hannah," Eric said the moment Azalea finished congratulating us on the first round. "You heard Azalea. Since you scored basically zero points, you sit out this round. Try actually hitting the button next time."

I was about to say something—or better yet, throw something—when we were interrupted by the pounding of hard-bottom shoes against the wooded auditorium floor.

We turned in unison to stare at the imposing figure of Principal Hollendale. "Actually, Mr. Kim," his voice rumbled out, "it'll be you who sits out this round."

Eric gasped. "...What do you mean, sir? I just scored more points than all these buffoons. A-and you're not even over the math team..."

The principal held up his hand for silence. "My office—now. And bring your school supplies with you."

Eric's mouth was so agape that I thought his jaw might detach from his face.

"Principal Hollendale," I blurted "a-are you serious? What could he have possibly done? He's been here with us the entire morning." And trust me, I wish he hadn't been.

"I don't have time for questions. Mr. Kim, you're coming with me." He stomped forward and grabbed Eric by the arm, practically dragged him out of the auditorium.

The door slammed shut moments later, jarring me as I stared around bewildered at the rest of my teammates. "You guys..." I trembled. "What just happened?"

"I can't believe Principal Hollendale just...just..." Evan trailed off.

"What're we gonna do now?" Calvin asked, his voice rising. "Eric was the best thing we had going—there's no way we pull this off without him!"

"Calvin, don't talk like that," Azalea chided. "Eric is not the only Mathlete here, and he's definitely not the only one who can take a derivative and slam a buzzer. We all made it onto this team because we're all capable. Losing Eric shouldn't matter."

Calvin said something else, but I didn't hear it. I could barely even register what the rest of the team was talking about. Eyes glancing both directions, I slid furtively behind Evan and a noticeably distressed Calvin, then quietly tiptoed away from them and slipped toward the auditorium's exit, bent on following Principal Hollendale and Eric.

Principal Hollendale was opening the door to his office just as I glided around the hallway corner adjacent to the auditorium, and I hid behind a locker as the two of them moved past the glass door to enter the office's interior. I ran closer once they closed it, pressed my ear to the cloudy crystal and strained to listen through:

"Don't lie to me, Mr. Kim! I have proof!"

Proof of what?

"I'm not lying!" he screamed. "I'm innocent!"

"Then do you care to explain to me why, when I walked into my office this morning and sat at my desk, there was a neatly stacked pile of eight-and-a-half-by-eleven high-resolution photographs of you sticking a joint in your mouth!?"

I gasped. What!?

"This school is an academic institution!" Principle Hollendale raged on. "We have a no-tolerance policy when it comes to controlled substances!"

There's no way!

"Oh, come on," Eric drawled. "It was one joint."

"Don't you try to play me like a fool. I picked up about ten photos off my desk this morning—different times, different days." He paused. I couldn't tell if he was sighing or growling. "I don't know what's harder to believe. That you've been smoking this consistently—for this long—or that you were stupid enough not to notice someone taking pictures of you every time you did it!"

"Look, Holly," Eric huffed, his tone growing confrontational, "this school needs me. Last year, we entered U.S. News and World Report's Top Twenty-Five Elite Schools ranking because of high SAT, ACT, and AP scores. And you know I was a part of that statistic. Plus, the Mathletes are probably dying in there right now without me—I bet we don't even have the lead anymore."

Crap! I thought, I've gotta get back there. I turned to scurry off, but not before I heard Principal Hollendale's reply: "This is non-negotiable. I don't care how many awards you've won. What you've done is strictly prohibited, and allowing you to remain enrolled at this school would set a precedent of unparalleled detriment to our scholastic reputation."

I really wanted to hear more, but I couldn't let the team suffer. Had the next round already begun? Were we really losing like Eric had said?

I pulled my ear from the window to Principal Hollendale's office and spun around to run back to the auditorium—meeting Azalea's bewildered gaze the moment I arrived there.

"Hannah, where have you been?" she blurted.

"I was...well..." I paused for a moment. "I listened in on Principal Hollendale—I think he's going to expel Eric."

"What?" Calvin practically yelled, turning fearful eyes to me.

"Someone left a bunch of pictures of him smoking weed on Principal Hollendale's desk this morning," I explained, my breathing heavier than I'd expected.

Shock leapt onto my teammates' faces.

"...W-what do we do?" Calvin quivered. "The next round is in three minutes, and we can't count on Eric anymore."

"I'm sorry, guys," Stefan blurted out. "I—I don't know what's happening with Eric, but...I gotta go." He turned and tore away from the rest of us, bolting toward the auditorium doors and ramming them open before sprinting into the hallway and dashing out of sight. I could have sworn he looked like he was about to cry.

"Stefan!" Calvin called after him. "Stefan, no! Not you too, man!"

Azalea placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let him go."

"But, Azalea," he pleaded, "we just lost our two best Mathletes. Who's gonna replace them? What're we gonna—"

"I will," Hunter answered. "I may not be Eric, but I refuse to throw in the towel just because he's gone."

"Same here," Alex added. "I'm not giving up."

Hearing Alex's voice, even if only those six simple words—I couldn't help but smile. His determination alone was enough to make me want to keep trying. And besides, who was Eric to think that our team couldn't survive without him anyway?

And who was I to believe him?

As the timer for our team's break finished ticking down, I took the podium next to Alex, breathed in, and straightened my shoulders.

The next round, I was the first one to answer, and Alex answered second. The other team got the next two questions. Azalea buzzed in two in a row, then I locked in one more, and Hunter and Alex nabbed the next pair.

The other team got the last one, although I could have sworn that Hunter buzzed first. Whatever, I shrugged it off. Either way, we've still got the lead.

During the break between rounds two and three, I saw Alex looking at me. I know I must have blushed, and I immediately turned away.

He was smiling, I thought. He was smiling at me!

The rest of the competition whizzed by like a speeding bullet. Every round that I stood next to Alex, I gained confidence—it was like just being around him made me happier, more energetic, more myself. When the match was over, it was announced that Gallensley'd won in a landslide.

And I honestly have no idea how she did it, but Azalea slipped out just after the final round and managed to wheel in an ice cooler full of frozen treats to celebrate.

During lunch, we munched on ice-cream sandwiches, frozen cream-filled crunch bars, strawberry poles, and orange dream sickles.

I made sure to sit next to Alex—after all, he'd been the reason I'd done so well.

I giggled at the thought of it. It was just a math competition. It wasn't like I'd slain some fearsome dragon. But with Alex at my side, I'd face a million fire-breathing beasts.

I kept looking away every time I caught him staring—smiling—at me, blush burning across my cheeks whenever his eyes met mine.

"These are really good, Azalea," I spoke up after managing to retreat yet again from Alex's warm gaze. I closed my empty wrapper around a bare dream-sickle stick. "Can't believe I finished that so fast—"

Alex didn't miss a beat. He hopped up and got me a new one like lightning. He retook his seat next to me