Page 89 of A Stealthy Situation

“You just told the time.”

“Off of my phone. An analog clock makes no goddamn sense to me.” I don’t know why I’m voicing this. Don’t know why all these insecurities are leaking out now, but I can’t stop them. I’ve always been so careful to build up my copying strategies—life cheat sheets, in a way—to make sure the things I struggle with stay hidden. Harrison almost picked up on it today, though, and I’ve never felt more sick in my life. “I can’t do the most basic shit, and I’m supposed to be able to understand all this? I don’t even know how many times I’ve read this page, but I don’t remember any of it. I have a test tomorrow. I’m going to fail.”

“Stop. Breathe.”

Kinda hard to breathe when I’m launching into a full-blown panic attack. I can’t do this, and he’s not listening. He doesn’t get it. It’d be like me learning to speak fluent Japanese by tomorrow. By next week. Fuck, even this year.

I know why Harrison made this request. I know why he doesn’t want us cheating. I’ve never regretted anything in my life more than I do this, but it’s gotten to a point where I need it. Without passing my classes, there is no degree. No future. My brothers are going to kill me, and I’ll be facing the repercussions of this choice for the rest of my goddamn life.

“It’ll be hard,” Em says. “But you’ll get there. You’re smart. Learning ten years’ worth of stuff at once won’t be easy, but a lot will be intuitive. I’ll help you. Bowser will help you.”

“I’m not going to him for help.”

“He’d—”

“No. Goddamn it.”

Emmett sighs, and sure, he thinks I’m being ridiculous—I can read it off his face—but I’m not going to the guy I’ve just started dating and being all, “Hey, I probably couldn’t even pass a third-grade math quiz, but that’s cool, yeah?”

How fucking embarrassing.

“Fine.” He pulls my books and laptop toward himself. “Let’s do this.”

By the time I get to class, I’m feeling one tiny bit more confident about my test. Harrison meets me at the door, and I try to return the happy smile he gives me, but I’m not sure I pull it off.

“Hey, it’s just one quick test. It’ll be over before you know it, and I bet you do better than you think.”

I try to hold on to his confidence. “Yeah, we’ll see, I guess.”

I’m just trying hard to hold on to Em’s voice in my head as he explained everything to me. Step by step, take my time, I’ve got this.

“I’ll be waiting for you right out here when you’re done.”

“Why don’t you have to take the test?”

“I’m auditing this class. I’ve already been through the tests, but none of the information really sank in, which is why I’m going for round two.”

“That’s a long way to say you like to punish yourself.”

He laughs and gently nudges me toward the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

Probably too soon. Not having him here to sit next to me is both shit because I could have used his support and a blessing because he won’t get to see me crash and burn in real time.

As soon as I sit down, Professor Brooks locks the door and sets his timer. He says, “You have an hour and a half to make it through. No talking, please.”

An hour and a half?

Tests are one of the things I hate most about school. Even in subjects I know, it’s a panic to make sure I get it done in time, and an hour is trackable; an hour and a half is not. With the analog clock up in front of the room, I can visually track a full circle, but anything over that leaves me lost.

He calls start, and the second he does …

Blank.

My whole brain is blank.

I try to set all the work out as I go, but I’m hyperconscious that time is slipping away. Pressure weighs down against me as I try to make it through. Most of the math-heavy ones I skip, but there are a few more logic-focused ones that I can muddle my way through. The working out is hard, and my calculator and notes are my best friend, but my chest keeps getting tighter and tighter every time I try to figure out how long I have left. It has to be close to running out. Half of the test is on paper, and the other is through the computer, which completely loses me before long.

I finally submit the computer side and glance around at everyone still working. The room is hushed; only muffled coughs and the rustle of papers and fingers frantically typing away on their computers keep my thoughts company.

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