In the second it takes Mr. Werner to reply, I almost convince myself to run the hell away. Somehow, I make it through the door.
“Lia.” He looks genuinely surprised, straightening up and hurriedly clearing a space on his desk. “Do we have an appointment?”
“No. Sorry, do I need one?” I have no idea how office hours work.
“Yes. I’m expecting another student any time now—”
“Please, Mr. Werner, I just need two minutes. Please.” A month ago, I would’ve made gagging noises at how pathetically desperate I sound. Now, I’m ready to go on my knees and beg.
Mr. Werner’s mouth presses into a thin line as he watches me. Studying me. “Alright,” he says after a while. “Two minutes. What can I help you with?”
“Thank you.” I scramble through my bag and grab my test paper. I rush through his comments. “Um, okay, so here, you said I need to be more in-depth. Can you tell me how in-depth I should go with my answers?”
“Much more in-depth than that,” he says and gives me an apologetic smile. “Okay, that wasn’t very helpful.” He takes a long breath, leans back in his chair. “Look, the thing is, I expect my students to go beyond the surface. Like I said during our interview, your answers aren’t necessarily wrong, but they’re also not groundbreaking. I want innovation. I want answers no other student outside of my class would be able to come up with.”
What in the hell? God, could this prick be any more pretentious?
I must’ve looked like I was ready to strangle something, because he says, “You’re probably sitting there thinking I’m being too harsh, but I assure you most of your classmates performed just fine on the test. It’s not an impossible standard.”
No, just one I failed to reach. Okay. Think outside the box. “Can I write an essay for extra credit, or—”
His blond eyebrows crash into each other. “That wouldn’t be fair to your classmates. No, I’m afraid I can’t give you special treatment like that, Lia.”
And now I feel like an absolute brat, coming here and asking for favors. Shame burns through my face. My scalp feels like it’s two sizes too small. “I’m sorry. I’m just kind of freaking out ’cause I’ve been suspended from competing, and—”
“And you’re here on a track and field scholarship. I know,” Mr. Werner said. “But I did warn you about my class.”
“I’ve missed the deadline to switch,” I mutter with a sinking feeling. “I won’t be able to replace it with another class. I need to take at least twelve units to keep my scholarship.” I scramble for another solution. Anything. “Do you have any advice for the next test?”
“Study hard,” Mr. Werner says, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. I guess, in a way, it is.
“I meant more of like—”
There’s a knock at the door, and Mr. Werner straightens up. “That’s my afternoon appointment. Don’t let me keep you, Lia.”
Head down, I open the door.
“How much—oh.” Mandy does a double take when she sees me. “Ew,” she says under her breath, wrinkling her nose and stepping aside so I don’t end up touching her as I walk out.
Mandy sweeps inside and the door swings closed with a click. I’m left alone in the corridor, clutching my bag and smelling the remnants of her scent—a mix of high-end hairspray and perfume I’ve come to associate with the smell of Satan. I don’t know what I was expecting. Something a lot more helpful than “study hard.” But “study hard” was all I got. The disappointment crashes down so fast, I almost crumple right then and there, and start crying.
I walk out of Collings in a daze and startle when my phone beeps.
Okay, universe. I think I’ve dealt with enough crap today not to have to read through more hateful crap about me on DD. I mean, really now. You know what, I’m gonna delete that awful app. I really am.
I unlock my phone, but instead of a Draycott Dirt notification, it’s a new email.
Sender: [email protected]
Passing Mr. Werner’s tests is impossible. I can help, but it has to be our secret.
Chapter 5
I’m not dumb. The D minus in English Lit notwithstanding, I’m really not. So, even though everything inside me is scrambling to reply to SiliconBrainsand go, “Omg YES PLS TELL ME EVERYTHING,” I don’t. Because, folks, I can smell a trap a mile away. And this smells bad, like something Mandy’s cooked up with her gnarled witch hands. (Mandy’s hands are actually really nice and smooth because she bathes in the blood of babies under every full moon, but go with me on this.)
Once I get back to my room, I do a search online for Mr. Werner. Very impressive résumé. Undergrad at Brown, followed by a master’s from Stanford. Must be nice to be able to afford all that. I click on his LinkedIn profile then sigh when I find it’s set to private mode. I do a search on Facebook, but there are about twelve thousand other James Werners. I’m about to close the tab when I see that one of the search results has James Werner tagged with Wijaya. I click on the link.
It takes me to the profile page of a woman named Yoana Wijaya. I don’t know her, but the name Wijaya—oh.
Danny Wijaya. Well. That’s one hell of a coincidence.
I close the tab and flop onto my bed. I’m chasing ghosts here. Despair wells up once more, threatening to overwhelm me. I close my eyes to keep from bawling again. Then something makes me open DD and do a search of Mr. Werner. There’re a whole bunch of posts, mostly bitching about how much homework he gives, but one post catches my eye.
Subject: English Lit
Teacher: Mr. James Werner
Vote now! Do you find this teacher’s class:
A. So easy it’s basically a joke
B. Relatively easy
C. Relatively challenging
D. Impossible to pass
Poll results:
A. 27%
B. 0%
C. 53%
D. 20%
Reply from: @Boyatthebeach
Can I just point out that when I took the class last semester, I noticed that only the richest kids got As? #JustSayin
Reply from: @Jinxxy
Omg right? There was this girl in my class when I took it who’s dumber than a brick but her family’s loaded, and she somehow got an A and I got a B-.
Reply from: @TrackQueen
Jinx, maybe your too stupid to pass? Next time, instead of blaming the teacher, maybe you should try actually studying.
Reply from: @Jinxxy
Uhh, that’s rich coming from someone who doesn’t know the difference between “your” and “you’re.”
Reply from: @TrackQueen
[This message has been deleted by Admin. Reason: Please do not out fellow members.]
Some strange, dark emotion unfurls inside me. The replies are weird, right? I’m not just being paranoid? Or am I?
There’s a knock on my door. I bound up and open it to find Beth.
She gives me a big hug before I can say anything. “Oh my god, you were amazing! You killed the competition! Just slayed them all!”
It actually takes me a while to realize what she’s talking about.
“You okay?” she says. “Danny and I looked everywhere for you after the meet. He had to go work on some extra-credit project. What’s wrong?”
And I burst into tears.