Ten more questions. Extension rounds. The buzzing of the buzzer on a loop.

Listen for key words, pay attention, don’t drift, Marianne told herself.

In 1815, this battle ended over two decades of warfare between France and—

She didn’t need to hear the rest. She could picture the bunnies hopping on him. She could see the numbers of the dates of his wars floating in her mind. She could imagine him hollering, “I may be tiny, but I’m tough!”

“The Battle of Waterloo!” she yelled out. She couldn’t help but notice that all her teammates answered questions softly, while she really took the volume up a notch.

“Yes!” Dan shouted.

“Go, Marianne!” Nina said.

Vi lifted a finger to her lips to quiet them down, but she couldn’t suppress her pleased smile.

Marianne didn’t respond to anything for another fifteen or twenty questions, not including the multiple extension rounds on which Vi always dominated.

Until!

“In which country would you be able to find the Taj Mahal?”

Marianne banged the buzzer so hard it dislodged and teetered on the edge of the table. Vi pulled it back.

“India!” Marianne nearly screamed. She could envision the illustrated picture of the beautiful palace on the globe Nina let her borrow.

Now it was Nina’s turn to put a finger to her lips to remind Marianne to quiet it down a bit. But then she mouthed, “Great job!” before zoning back in, clutching her fidget device, her leg jiggling on hyper speed.

Marianne performed better than she ever had.

William Shakespeare

The Iraq War

Ultraviolet radiation

Electricity crackled in the room.

“Scholars,” Mr. Garcia began, standing up and leaning forward with both hands resting on the table. “You have worked hard. And no matter what happens on Sunday, you should be proud of yourselves for that. Maximum effort beats natural talent nearly every time.”

“Okay, that’s not always true,” Nina interrupted.

Taking a beat, Mr. Garcia ran a hand through his hair and then stepped out from behind the table to lean against it.

“You’re right,” he acknowledged. “It’s not always true. But if you’re able to put your work on the table and say, ‘I gave it my all’? Walk away and say, ‘I tried my best and I couldn’t do any more’? Then winning doesn’t even matter. Now. I’ll see some of you in classes and some of you on Sunday. Bright and early.”

Wait, how could he say that? When, for her, he’d made it clear that winning was the key to proof of effort! Was this a speech for everyone but her?

Mr. Garcia tipped an imaginary hat and then left.

Once the door closed, Vi swiveled her head in their direction. “Obviously, winning does matter.”

“Thank you for that Vi honesty,” Marianne said, meaning it.

“Is this the anti-pep talk?” Dan got out of his chair and stretched. “Let’s do that handshake again,” he added.

“Marianne, you need to answer a couple more,” Vi went on. “Even if they’re incorrect. Try to worry less about that. Take a guess once in a while.”