At the sound of Marianne shutting the front door, her mom appeared at the top of the stairs. Her face dropped and she must have told the person on the call that she had to go.

“What are you doing here?” her mom asked. “What happened?”

“Where’s Dad?” Marianne asked nonsensically. She knew her dad didn’t work from home all day like her mom did.

“Is everything okay?” Her mom hustled down the stairs.

Marianne hooked her thumbs around the bottom straps of her backpack. She examined the tips of her dirty sneakers—once white, now all scratched up.

“I just … left,” Marianne told her. And, in light detail, she summarized what had occurred in Mr. Garcia’s nightmarish math class.

“Get in the car,” her mom commanded, snatching her purse and slipping on her shoes.

At Marianne’s frozen stare, her mom repeated, “Get in.”

“School’s almost over now, anyway,” Marianne argued, even as she followed her mom outside to the car.

Her mom’s keys jangled as she fumbled with the ignition.

They rode in silence until they were a block away from the school, when her mom snapped, “Do you not care about your future at all?”

Marianne tried to count the trees they passed. A couple dozen on each street.

“We don’t need you to be an A student, don’t you know that?” Her mom pleaded with her as they made the final turn toward Etheridge. “We just need you to have even some faith in yourself. To do the best for you, not for some other kid.”

“So cheesy, Mom,” Marianne said, joking with her.

But her mom didn’t crack a smile this time, not even a little bit.

As they parked, her mom spat out, “You made a deal. No behavior problems, no attendance issues, and you just … leave school? In the middle of a class? You managed to combine both things?! I just—” Her mom shook her head, grabbed her purse, and together they walked toward Ms. Clarke’s office without saying another word.

Marianne kept her eyes down to avoid seeing anyone from Mr. Garcia’s class.

Kids exited their last period in excitement. They chatted and hollered and slammed locker doors shut.

Ms. Clarke’s expression suggested she knew what had happened. Mr. Garcia must have told her between periods.

She opened her office door and let them in, following behind.

“Come on in,” she said with a kindness in her voice that Marianne imagined would not last.

“Even as I did it, I knew it was bad,” Marianne said as they all sat down before anyone could get a word in.

Ms. Clarke interlaced her fingers and leaned forward. “We had a deal, my dear.”

Immediately, Marianne’s mom made excuses for her. “She’s been overwhelmed,” she said. “Quiz Quest was too much … That’s an error on my part.”

“Mom,” Marianne said, stopping her.

“We have bent a lot of the rules for Marianne,” Ms. Clarke said.

Her mom surrendered. “I know, I know, you’re right.”