Page 36

Chapter 36

brEAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 11

“DON’T DIE ON ME, V.H.!”

I jolt upright and grip my surroundings. My face is wet. Beneath me is my bowl of Cheerios on the table.

A paper napkin thrusts into my view.

Luis, his mouth wriggling like a worm in disgust at my milk face. “Bro, did you zonk out in your cereal?”

I take the napkin and rub my nose, then the rest of my drenched face. It’s more of a challenge than I expect. My limbs are limp noodles, and my brain is on fire from this headache. “What were you saying? Your cat?”

Instead of answering, Luis plucks a soggy Cheerio off my cheek and flicks it on the Dix floor. “How much did you zonk last night?”

This last week has been a blur of training and studying and letter writing with Jasper, and now it’s already finals for Hours 1 through 3 on my schedule. Has my head hit the pillow once?

“I don’t”—I yawn—“remember.”

“So you didn’t zonk.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Have you taken a break lately? At all?”

“A lot’s on the line,” I say, thinking about the impending last grade rank until the end of classes.

And right after is the mixer. With the intensity of exams, STRIP hasn’t even started discussing the delivery plan for the letters.

“We need to be perfect this week,” I go on.

Luis picks up his fork and stress-twirls his curls like spaghetti. Fear clouds his gaze. “Yeah, my massive calc exam is today.”

I stare at the fork. “You ready?”

“Dunno. Crossing my fingers that your tutoring saved me. At least I closed my eyes last night.” Luis’s gaze refocuses on my face. “Unlike you. Your dark circles have dark circles. I’m worried.”

I attempt to eat some Cheerios, but my stomach curdles. “I’m fine.”

Luis is spinning the fork through his hair faster now. “Don’t you have PE for first hour? Your fitness exam is in, like, a half hour.”

“Don’t worry, I can handle it.”

My arms won’t move.

I tug myself up on the pull-up bar again. Again. Nothing.

“Forty-five seconds,” Ms. Nallos calls, her gaze flipping between me and the stopwatch set on her clipboard. I can feel the line of students in the Pragma Recreational Center trailing behind her, watching.

Panic courses through me. I got three pull-ups easily last week while with Xavier.

“Fifteen seconds!”

No way am I failing this fitness exam. I can’t . I flex my arms so hard that they burn, and I bite back a wince. I fight through the pain until my chin taps the bar.

My arms give out.

“Time!”

My sneakers hit the floor. Every bit of me throbs. One pull-up. After all that training.

For nothing.

“Next,” Ms. Nallos calls, signaling the next student in line to take my spot, her cheery polka dot braids bopping along her shoulders in the face of my defeat.

Before she can reset her stopwatch, my desperation makes me approach her. There must be something I can do. Anything.

Think. “Ms. Nallos, can I have a redo after class? Please?”

“No need,” Ms. Nallos says, dismissing me.

“I swear, I can get to three. I’ve trained—”

“You passed.”

“I can prove—I’m sorry?”

“I’ve seen you and Xavier train through these windows for weeks.” She points toward the doors, where the workout room resides deeper in the center. “In my opinion, that deserves a grade change.”

Hope flutters inside me, but I can’t possibly be understanding correctly. “To what?”

“You’ll see in the next progress report handouts.”

“But can I know now?”

She glances around the track. “Let’s go with an A. Please keep this to yourself, Charlie.”

I do mental math in my head. “We’ve been scored ten times so far, and I averaged at a C-minus in October, so I should only be at a B at most. And the rules about PE—”

“You’ve worked hard . Turn off that brain of yours and walk some laps.” Ms. Nallos focuses back on the next tester.

As I head for the indoor track, I can barely think straight, too many emotions shooting through me. An A . Others are already done testing and walking, too, including Xavier and his buzz-cut crew. At least his friends have stuck by his side during STRIP’s downfall.

I join them. “Hey.”

“What’d you get, man?!” Xavier shouts in my face.

Buzz-Cut One glances my way. Xuan. Then the other. Zach, I think. He goes in for a bro handshake—a basic slide into the standard grip that I’ve started to learn means I have no clue who you are, but you seem chill .

I don’t have to think too hard about how my hand moves as I return it. “I passed.” My voice comes out distant. I’m too in shock.

Xavier picks me up off the floor and squeezes me so hard that I almost snap. “Hallelujah!”

By the time my feet hit the floor again, my equilibrium is dead. I stumble to the left. “But I only got one pull-up. Ms. Nallos gave me the credit anyway because you and I have been training so hard together. So, thank you.”

“Really? Dang. You’re welcome. But.” Xavier’s forehead crinkles as he leans into my face. I don’t move back. “No offense, but you look like shit.”

“I’m fine. I just pulled an all-nighter.”

“Before this test?”

“I have to study for all our other tests.”

The excitement Xavier showed before has been completely erased by worry now. He digs into his pocket and pulls out a protein bar. “I brought this for you just in case.” He throws it my way.

My brain doesn’t process in time, and it slaps my temple. I jerk.

Xavier winces at the protein bar now on the floor. “Really thought you’d catch that. You look like you haven’t been eating. Stuff that in your mouth.”

I pick up the bar and follow orders, wondering if that means I’ve lost weight. It’s not like I’ve had time to look in a mirror.

Xavier slaps my back encouragingly. “C’mon, you’ll make the ranks on Wednesday. You’ve worked too hard not to.”

I smile back, trying to believe this for once too. But I have no clue if I should.