Chapter <b>537 </b>
Friday rolled around faster than a tumbleweed in a Western nick, and it was D–day for the mathpetition results.
In the midst of a break, around 10:30, Jenna, with her phone clutched in her hands like it was the Holy Grail, nervously tapped into the Ashford Math Contest’s official site. She navigated to the results page, where it prompted her for her contestant ID.
<b>She </b>clenched her fist tight, took a deep breath like she was about to dive into an ice–coldke, and then keyed in her digits.
Boom! The scores popped up on her screen like fireworks.
First session: 113 points. Second session: 52 points. Total: 165 points. City Rank: 69.
The relief that washed over Jenna could have filled the Grand Canyon, She’d blown her own expectations out of the water with whopping 113 out of 120 for the first round.
And that second round, with its devilishly tricky full score of 1807 The fact that she’d even scraped up 52 points was like striking gold, considering she’d guessed <b>her </b>way through the only two questions she managed to solve. Plus, making it into the top 100 city rankings? She screenshot her victory, <b>shaking </b>off her funk from the past few days with the grace of a phoenix rising from the ashes.
She swiveled around to Mirabe, who was still nose–deep in a book, her delicate profile radiating the serene beauty of a timeless sculpture. Jenna said, “Queen Mira, the contest results are up.”
“Oh,” Mirabe hummed without lifting her eyes, the embodiment of nonchnce. A full two minutes ticked by before she leisurely raised her head and asked, “How’d you do?”
Jenna was left speechless. How long did it take for news to travel down her synapses? And wasn’t she supposed to be all over her own scores like white on rice?
But then again, this math wunderkind probably didn’t need to check. As Jenna pondered this, the tiny spark of I’ve still got it‘ pride she’d felt flickered out.
She smacked her lips in self–reproach. That’s what you get for showing off, Jenna.
Mirabe’s eyebrows quirked up at Jenna’s self–smack. “Lost your marbles?”
“Just because you’re a brainiac doesn’t mean you get tond body blows on my ego. Jenna shot back with a re.
“So, how many points?” Mirabe closed her book, covering the words ‘Psychological Theories<b>‘ </b>with her hand, giving Jenna her full
attention.
In the presence of the academic elite, Jenna didn’t have the heart to boast about her 165–point triumph, so she simply handed over her phone. “See for yourself.”
Mirabe cast a nce at the screen, then looked back at Jenna with a smirk that danced between amusement and mischief. “Round Two got you 52 points?”
Clearing her throat awkwardly<b>, </b>Jenna snatched her phone back and mumbled, “Those Round Two questions weren’t meant for mere mortals. But look at Round One–pretty high score, huh?”/
She’d canvassed her ssmates, many of whom had tackled the same math gauntlet. Even the first round had been a beast, and by their standards, Jenna felt like she’d really pulled a rabbit out of a hat. All those sleepless nights hitting the books had paid off, at least. “Given your track record, scoring like this is quite the feat, Mirabe conceded after a moment, tossing Jenna a bone of praise.
Jenna’s response was a mix of gratitude and offense. “Thanks. That’s not apliment. That’s assault with a deadly weapon.” Just then, Mirabe’s phone buzzed in her desk drawer, the familiar hum interrupting the moment. She retrieved it with a calmness that could put a Buddhist monk to shame.
It was a message from Vincent, checking in on her score.
Jenna, who was expecting Mirabe to be searching for her results, leaned in only to find her casually chatting away on Messenger. Theplexity of Jenna’s feelings was off the charts.
Was this the great divide between the nerds, and the struggling masses?
With a quiet sigh of resignation, Jenna opened the results page again and turned to Mirabe. “Hey, what’s your contestant number?”