Her mom interlaced her fingers with Marianne’s.

“You have to come down or it’s going to be so awkward,” Marianne pleaded.

“I know, I know.” Her mom sighed and groaned as she forced herself off the bed.

Possum hopped down beside their feet.

“Dad’s super proud of the Regionals thing, huh?” Marianne watched her mom’s reaction closely.

“We both are, love,” her mom said with a kiss to her head.

But Marianne didn’t want assurance, she didn’t think. She wanted them to say, “I don’t care one way or another about Regionals.”

They made their way back downstairs to set up the table for Lillian’s strawberry-rhubarb pie.

She was supposed to feel good about her parents feeling proud of her, right? But she couldn’t. What was wrong with her?

Marianne’s new greetings at school post-win and post–spring break included: “Hey, genius!” “What’s up, Einstein?” “Girl Genius! How you doing?” and “It’s Big Bang!”

For the first time since Marianne could remember, someone asked her to be on their group project within seconds. Usually, she waited around for whoever else didn’t have a partner and teamed up with them. For their final group work they had to present on the history behind a federal monument. It sounded manageable. She just had to do what she did with Dan—find some interesting things about it, make sure to force herself to put in the parts that were less interesting like exact dates and timelines, and bring it to life. Totally doable.

And any time she questioned if it really was doable, she’d say to herself, “You are a Regionals champion,” and it helped a teeny bit.

Her class had moved on from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn to choice reading for their final project. The fabulous Ms. James said Marianne could do a graphic novel and she almost kissed her. Putting a picture to words felt like what the Ermines did with facts. They lifted what she was learning out of a place she couldn’t reach and helped her to see and feel each topic.

At the end of school that Monday after fake-Easter, Skyla approached Marianne. “No Quiz Quest practice today, right? Dad’s picking me up. Need a ride?”

Skyla spoke like everything was normal between them. Like she hadn’t chosen the Lucas Hayes side of life.

Marianne took in Julie, who stood a couple of feet away from them, engrossed in her phone.

“Okay, but I have to study after school,” Marianne said. She wondered if she sounded as cold as she felt.

“Oh,” Skyla seemed surprised.

She started to walk toward the school exit and Marianne followed. Julie stayed a couple of feet behind, texting.

“Would Mr. Garcia still fail you after the big win?” Skyla asked.

Skyla didn’t even know the half of it. She didn’t know about how every single hope and dream Marianne had hinged on winning, how if she didn’t, Mr. Garcia would fail her, because he was an unfair person acting in an unfair way.