Gabriel took a deep breath. He could do this.

He didn’t even have a pencil. He shoved his hand into his backpack. Gum. Car keys. A yellow highlighter. His spare lighter—he was tempted to take that to the quiz sitting on his desk.

He glanced up at the sophomore. He’d been sitting next to her for six weeks and had no idea what her name was. She didn’t help things by remaining completely nondescript. Mouse brown hair in a loose braid down her back, simple gray turtleneck, and no-brand jeans. Her features were soft and young and makeup-free behind a pair of glasses.

“Hey, Brainiac,” he said. “Can you hook me up with a pencil?”

She didn’t look up.

“Hey,” he said again.

Were her cheeks turning pink? Whatever, she didn’t look up.

His irritation flared. “Hey,” he said. “Got a pencil, Four-Eyes? What are you, deaf?”

Her head snapped around. “No. And my name isn’t ‘Four-Eyes’ or ‘Brainiac.’ ” But she flipped her pencil at him, then bent to get another one from her backpack.

He rolled his eyes and looked at the paper.

Question 1. Change 5π/12 radians to degrees.

He had to wipe his hands on his jeans again. He’d go back to that one.

Question 2. Given that sin x = ¼ and x is in Quadrant II, find the exact values of sin2x and cos2x.

WTF. He looked at this every day, and it was still like reading Chinese.

He heard something snap.

His pencil. He’d broken another one in half.

Brainiac whipped her head around. What was her problem?

He glared back at his paper. The sub had said it didn’t count. But he couldn’t exactly hand in a blank test.

He had no idea what they’d do if he failed. What if they asked him to take another one? If they figured out Nick was taking his tests for him, they’d kick him off every team for sure.

They’d tell Michael.

Snap.

Now he had a quarter of a pencil. Other students were looking at him.

Gabriel took a deep breath. He could do this.

He could do this.

He could.

He put the pencil nub against the paper and tried to work through each problem.

It was the longest thirty minutes of his life. He didn’t even get to the last three.

“Okay, I think that’s enough time,” said Ms. Anderson.

Thank god. He didn’t feel this worn out after long runs around the soccer field.

“Now exchange papers with the person beside you for grading.”

He snapped his head up.

The sophomore was already holding out her paper, not even looking at him. He took it but didn’t relinquish his own. The tests sat side by side, one neat and perfectly ordered, one a complete fucking mess.

Brainiac sighed and reached out to grab his test, snatching it back to her desk.

Gabriel chewed on the end of the pencil nub. It hurt his lip. He could pick a fight. Get sent to the office. Alan Hulster sat to his left, and that guy was a tool. Gabriel wouldn’t even mind laying into him.