“Typically,” Ms. Clarke continued, “skipping class would result in detention, and as we discussed a couple of months ago, any behavior issues—detention and the like—jeopardize Marianne’s already fragile standing in passing the year. And going by our deal, this would mean an end to participation in Quiz Quest. And yes, that results in a math grade too low to pass the year.”

“But I—” Marianne jumped in.

“And yet”—Ms. Clarke held up a palm to silence her—“you are merely two weeks away from the final competition, and your team is counting on you.”

Marianne and her mom waited as Ms. Clarke tapped her fingers and seemed to think aloud.

“On the other hand,” she lectured, “you made a promise. You broke your word, and I can’t reward this behavior.” She sighed. “You know, if your recent test scores were better, I…” She reached into her drawer and pulled out some mints, offering them to Marianne and her mom. “Oh, and—that’s right—” She held up the mint case as if it reminded her. “We didn’t even get to the gum yet!” Softly she added, “This is certainly tricky.”

Her mom, rejecting the mints, turned to Marianne and mouthed, “The gum?”

Marianne dropped her face into her hands.

“What’s this about gum?” her mom asked Ms. Clarke.

Ms. Clarke explained and concluded, “I am at a loss.”

So was Marianne.

She didn’t know how she’d explain her actions to her parents or to the Quiz Quest kids. She immediately wanted to apologize to Mr. Garcia, yet simultaneously she never wanted to face him again. If Ms. Clarke didn’t let her compete, Marianne would be the kid who ruined Quiz Quest for him. He would hate her even more.

And she would have to repeat the eighth grade. Without the extra credit, even an A plus plus on the final wouldn’t get her past the points threshold to pass math. Her Ds and Fs added up to make this moment happen.

And it was her fault.

Was it really true that her mom and dad didn’t care if she wasn’t an A student? Really? Surely, a part of them wanted that.

She lifted her head and her gaze drifted once again, as it had when Ms. Clarke had told her she was failing eighth grade, to the big skull painting on her principal’s wall. It was filled with a patchwork of colors, some parts of the face just bone and others with simple features. She hadn’t thought much of it at first. Now she wanted to know what it was.

“What’s that painting?” she asked her principal.

Ms. Clarke smiled.

“It’s called Untitled.” The grin grew. “By Jean-Michel Basquiat. The original costs over 110 million dollars. Isn’t that something?”

Marianne shook her head. “It kind of looks like he wasn’t finished with it.”

“True,” Ms. Clarke said.

They all checked out the skull until Ms. Clarke exhaled and said, “So. Where to go from here?”

From Vi: WHY DID YOU DO THAT?????

From Nina: hey r u ok what happened why arent you