I thought he’d put them up to something that day, but Pedro was just being...thoughtful? I can’t believe this. He hasn’t acknowledged Grandma all this time. Not once. It’s strange to hear he told them about her.

“I’m not mad,” I say, and Cintia relaxes a little. “Thank you for telling me.”

“He’s not a bad guy, Lari.” She turns back to her computer. “But something tells me you’re starting to notice that...”

My heart does a little backflip. What does she mean by that? Maybe she doesn’t know about the near kiss, but is it written all over my face that my feelings for Pedro are super confusing now? Out of instinct, I open my mouth to protest, to say she’s wrong, but I find that I—

I can’t deny it. She’s right.

I’ve noticed he’s not a bad guy.

I’ve noticed more than that.

I’ve noticed sometimes I get butterflies in my chest when he stands close to me.

I shake my head before I start noticing more things I shouldn’t, and my eyes zone in on the website Cintia pulls up on the computer. “The Mathematics Regionals!” My voice rises, grateful for the distraction, and the librarian shushes me. “Sorry,” I mouth to her, before turning back to Cintia. “Are you going to apply?”

The regionals feel like a lifetime ago. It takes place every December, but the application deadline is mid-June. Every year, I’d hear Mom pestering me to sign up, saying it would look good on my résumé to get mathematics gold medals when I applied for my first internship at an accounting firm. Entering my last year in high school helped me dodge the contest this time—now that Mom thinks my full attention should be on prepping for the vestibular—but I guess I just traded one application stress for another...

“I need to tell you something,” Cintia says, and she thinks for a second, like she’s looking for the best way to say it. “I totally knew you before the club. Well, sort of. Before I transferred here this year, I used to go to a school that sent students to compete at the regionals, too.”

“Ah, you competed?”

“No,” she says quickly. “I went to root for my friends. And I watched you destroy them every year.”

“I’m not sure if that’s good or bad...”

Cintia laughs quietly. “It’s good. I love my friends, but it was actually fun to watch you beat everyone.” Her eyes light up with excitement, like the memory is still vivid to her. And that blows my mind. I’ve never seen anyone get this excited about these contests...other than Pimentel and Mom, I guess. “We all thought you were like Beth Harmon in The Queen’s Gambit.”

I can’t help but laugh, and the librarian shushes me again.