quivered, almost as if she were crying.
Furious that Teah would bring fair into it
after all this time, Ani patted her shoulder instead of shaking some sense into
her. “We’ll find a cure, Teah. Then you can be together.”
“When?”
Ani rolled her eyes. “When we do. Until then, you
have to keep Bill from doing anything stupid.”
Like asking a puppy to babysit
kittens.
“I will.”
Ani pulled back and pressed the front of her
helmet to Teah’s so that they locked eyes. “Promise.”
“I promise.”
By the time they got to school, Teah had recovered
her composure. It was easier to do without tears, snot, sniffles, or blood.
They’d all had a great deal of practice.
Chapter
14
Friday was a half day. By the time
they’d bussed in, waited for everyone else to get to class, shuffled to their
room, listened to the announcements, and had a fire drill—where by policy they
waited until everyone else was out, then shuffled their way into the zombie
yard, then waited for everyone else to go back in before being allowed back
through the halls themselves—less than an hour remained. True to form, Mr.
Foster spent it with the underclassmen.
Ani sat in a funk. She’d
stalled on “Breakin’ a Sweat” and fought the urge to drop the project. Though
self-assigned, it wouldn’t do itself, and she hated to leave a song unwritten.
As the minute hand crawled past
ten forty, Mr. Foster stepped away from the underclassmen to approach Sam and
Devon. After a brief, murmured exchange ended in a snort from Devon, he stepped
over to Ani. She eyed the paper in his hand with trepidation, wondering what
new torture Mr. Giggles had conjured from his fresh-from-the-factory teacher
toolbox.
He knelt next to her and slid
the paper onto her desk. “Hi, Ani.” He giggled. “I was wondering if you can do
this problem.” Ani envied the pencil lines of his meticulous handwriting.
He should have
to use crayon, too.
She considered the problem:
(x + 1)(2x 2 + 3x + 5)
Express in simplest form.
She glanced at Devon, who
glared at the back of Mr. Foster’s head, and got nothing but an eye roll for
her trouble.
“Of course. We learned that in
tenth grade.”
Mr. Foster sucked air through
his teeth, the hissing sound punctuated by tiny spit bubbles. “Yeah, that’s the
thing. I haven’t done this stuff since tenth grade. I’m a little rusty.”
She returned his expectant look
with one of her own. The silence stretched from awkward to uncomfortable.
Finally, he licked his lips. “So?”
“So, what?” she asked. When he kept
staring, she continued. “Yes, I can do the problem. That’s what you asked,
right?”
He nodded. “Right.”
She nodded back.
He giggled. “So, prove it. Show
me.”
Across the room, Devon snorted
again. “She doesn’t have math with you, Mr. F.”
He spoke through teeth clenched
in a frozen grin, his voice a bare murmur. “Can you please show me how to do
this, so I can show them?” He jerked his head toward Teah, Lydia, and Kyle. “It’s
hard enough with Kyle when I know what I’m doing.”
Ani gaped in astonished
understanding; drool dribbled down her chin. “Oh, you’re asking for help. I
thought you were quizzing me.” She pointed at the x . “Just multiply
everything in the trinomial by each term in the binomial,” she shifted her
finger to the one, “then add it all up.”
His vacant stare didn’t help
his grin any. “Can you say that again?”
She did. It didn’t seem to
help.
Mr. Foster flinched as Joe crouched
next to Ani’s desk. Joe grabbed a purple crayon and drew a four-by-three grid. “Look,
Mr. F, just make a chart....”
Ani caught herself staring at
Joe without paying attention to the words. Mr. Foster nodded along to the explanation.
They wrapped up two more examples, and he went back to the underclassmen.
“Wow,” Ani said. “You’re good
at that.”
Joe shrugged. “It’s just a
trick Mrs. Biggs taught me. No
Furious that Teah would bring fair into it
after all this time, Ani patted her shoulder instead of shaking some sense into
her. “We’ll find a cure, Teah. Then you can be together.”
“When?”
Ani rolled her eyes. “When we do. Until then, you
have to keep Bill from doing anything stupid.”
Like asking a puppy to babysit
kittens.
“I will.”
Ani pulled back and pressed the front of her
helmet to Teah’s so that they locked eyes. “Promise.”
“I promise.”
By the time they got to school, Teah had recovered
her composure. It was easier to do without tears, snot, sniffles, or blood.
They’d all had a great deal of practice.
Chapter
14
Friday was a half day. By the time
they’d bussed in, waited for everyone else to get to class, shuffled to their
room, listened to the announcements, and had a fire drill—where by policy they
waited until everyone else was out, then shuffled their way into the zombie
yard, then waited for everyone else to go back in before being allowed back
through the halls themselves—less than an hour remained. True to form, Mr.
Foster spent it with the underclassmen.
Ani sat in a funk. She’d
stalled on “Breakin’ a Sweat” and fought the urge to drop the project. Though
self-assigned, it wouldn’t do itself, and she hated to leave a song unwritten.
As the minute hand crawled past
ten forty, Mr. Foster stepped away from the underclassmen to approach Sam and
Devon. After a brief, murmured exchange ended in a snort from Devon, he stepped
over to Ani. She eyed the paper in his hand with trepidation, wondering what
new torture Mr. Giggles had conjured from his fresh-from-the-factory teacher
toolbox.
He knelt next to her and slid
the paper onto her desk. “Hi, Ani.” He giggled. “I was wondering if you can do
this problem.” Ani envied the pencil lines of his meticulous handwriting.
He should have
to use crayon, too.
She considered the problem:
(x + 1)(2x 2 + 3x + 5)
Express in simplest form.
She glanced at Devon, who
glared at the back of Mr. Foster’s head, and got nothing but an eye roll for
her trouble.
“Of course. We learned that in
tenth grade.”
Mr. Foster sucked air through
his teeth, the hissing sound punctuated by tiny spit bubbles. “Yeah, that’s the
thing. I haven’t done this stuff since tenth grade. I’m a little rusty.”
She returned his expectant look
with one of her own. The silence stretched from awkward to uncomfortable.
Finally, he licked his lips. “So?”
“So, what?” she asked. When he kept
staring, she continued. “Yes, I can do the problem. That’s what you asked,
right?”
He nodded. “Right.”
She nodded back.
He giggled. “So, prove it. Show
me.”
Across the room, Devon snorted
again. “She doesn’t have math with you, Mr. F.”
He spoke through teeth clenched
in a frozen grin, his voice a bare murmur. “Can you please show me how to do
this, so I can show them?” He jerked his head toward Teah, Lydia, and Kyle. “It’s
hard enough with Kyle when I know what I’m doing.”
Ani gaped in astonished
understanding; drool dribbled down her chin. “Oh, you’re asking for help. I
thought you were quizzing me.” She pointed at the x . “Just multiply
everything in the trinomial by each term in the binomial,” she shifted her
finger to the one, “then add it all up.”
His vacant stare didn’t help
his grin any. “Can you say that again?”
She did. It didn’t seem to
help.
Mr. Foster flinched as Joe crouched
next to Ani’s desk. Joe grabbed a purple crayon and drew a four-by-three grid. “Look,
Mr. F, just make a chart....”
Ani caught herself staring at
Joe without paying attention to the words. Mr. Foster nodded along to the explanation.
They wrapped up two more examples, and he went back to the underclassmen.
“Wow,” Ani said. “You’re good
at that.”
Joe shrugged. “It’s just a
trick Mrs. Biggs taught me. No
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