Chapter 3

In math class, the teacher handed out a test immediately. He made it clear this one would be particularly challenging.

Math had always been my weakest subject, where I usually performed just average at best, even on my better days.

Jerome, of course, aced every math test effortlessly. It was the subject where the gap between us yawned widest.

After the test, the girl next to me whispered, "Bonnie, you were writing the whole time. The test was brutal. How did you manage?"

I slumped slightly in my seat. "It was tough," I admitted. "I might've dropped a dozen points."

"A dozen points?" The whole class groaned. "That's nothing. Quit showing off."

The class president approached me and asked curiously, "Bonnie, your old classmates said you used to fail math constantly. Was that all an act?"

"Obviously," another student chimed in. "Nobody gets every single question wrong by accident."

"So you're one of those secret genius types," someone said, raising an eyebrow. "But why pretend to suck at school? Wouldn't life be easier if you just let everyone know how smart you are?"

I gave them a knowing look and replied coolly, "I never liked being the center of attention. But from now on, I'll stop pretending. No more tanking our class average."

Jerome's eyes flicked toward me again at that comment.

I moved to his desk. "Jerome, that last question completely stumped me. Any chance you solved it?"

He studied me for a beat, lips pressed together, and then silently slid his notes my way.

I picked it up like it was gold. The solution jumped out at me immediately. "This is how you do it? You really are the math genius," I said, my voice rising with excitement. "Will it be okay if I ask you for help sometimes?"

Jerome didn't even glance up from his book, his face completely blank as he kept reading.

"Damn, Bonnie, you're brave," a classmate said, giving me an approving thumbs-up. "The rest of us are too scared to ask Jerome anything—he'd just pretend we don't exist."

He wasn't what scared me. The real fear was that I might never be good enough at math to even come close to him.

Gym class meant only one thing that day—the girls' distance run test.

Back when I was Miranda, I could have run this distance without even breathing hard.

"Bonnie, you're sitting this one out," the teacher called out as I stood at the starting line. He gave me a concerned look. "Let's not have another fainting incident, okay?"

Then I remembered—Bonnie had passed out during the first week of freshman year while running. It freaked the teacher out so much that she got a permanent pass on endurance tests after that. At most, they'd make her do things like shot put.

"I'm finishing this no matter what." The old Bonnie would have given up before even starting, but that wasn't me anymore.

I started jogging, but after just half a lap, my chest burned and my legs felt like concrete blocks. Every step became a battle against my body.

Worried I might collapse, I alternated between jogging and walking. By the time everyone else had finished, I still had two laps to go.

"Bonnie, you can stop now. I'll give you a passing grade," the gym teacher said with a tired sigh.

I shook my head and kept putting one foot in front of the other.

As I pushed forward, someone fell into step beside me.

When I turned my head, I saw Jerome keeping pace with me.

He'd already finished the boys' two-mile run, his sweat-dampened bangs clinging to his forehead.

"Thanks, but I can finish this on my own," I said, offering him a grateful smile.

Without a word, he simply maintained his steady pace beside me.

Then a few more classmates joined us, matching my slow but determined stride.

Before long, nearly the entire class had formed a quiet procession walking with me.

A warm feeling spread through my chest, making my eyes mist over.

I thought about Bonnie from before. Though I'd never paid her much attention, everyone knew she'd always been left out and ignored.

She did everything alone, sitting quietly in that corner by the trash can, never speaking to anyone.

I finally finished the mile run in seven minutes and twenty seconds.

"Good job," the teacher said with a friendly thumbs-up, giving me a passing score.

Some of my classmates gave me thumbs-ups, too, cheering me on as I caught my breath.

When I glanced over at Jerome, I saw him give me a subtle nod.

My heart did this funny little skip, warm and fluttery inside.