“So he’s trying to set up the perfect initial conditions.” I rolled my eyes and Mark laughed.
I pushed my hood back from my head as we entered the building. Inside, a hundred students milled around the auditorium. Quentin waved to us from the front of the auditorium, and we walked toward him. Nobody else wanted to sit in the very front, it seemed, and Mark and I slid into the row right behind Quentin. Every other seat had the desk extended with a tablet resting on it.
“Check it out,” Quentin said. “Tablets like in the major hall lectures. Think they’re going to be watching us while we do the problems on these? My roommate didn’t say anything about working on a screen.” The tablets alternated on every other desk, so Mark sat down two seats over from me. He poked at the tablet, but the screen was locked.
“Wow,” I said, scanning the room. “I didn’t know we had this many math majors in our class.” I didn’t recognize half of the people there.
“There’s some physics and engineering people, looks like,” Mark said.
“Computer science too,” Quentin said. “Doesn’t matter. All of the past winners have been math majors.”
“Guess everyone wants a shot,” I said. My hopes withered. It seemed impossible that I could beat out all of these people for the prize. Even if I wanted it the most out of anybody there.
“I wonder what the questions will be.” Mark had given up on the tablet and leaned back in his chair. He looked so relaxed, like he was laying out on the library lawn in the summertime instead of waiting for the most important test of the year to start.
“Rick said that it was mostly number theory and combinatorics last year,” Quentin said, his arm draped over the back of his seat. “Starts easy, gets hard. Super hard. And the guy running it is a hardass. Kicked one person out last year before the test even started for asking if he could use a calculator.”
“No calculators?” I had mine in my jacket pocket.
“I don’t think we’ll need them anyway. The questions are mostly proof stuff. That’s what Rick said.” Quentin kept talking, the nervous energy coming out in his voice. “Hey, it’s nine already. Wonder where the proctor is? I wonder if he’s really that much of a jerk.”
“Good luck,” Mark said to me. He held out his hand toward me jokingly for a handshake over the empty seat between us. I shook it, and noticed a curious expression on his face. Like he wanted to beat me, but he also wanted me to win. He knew that for me, the stakes were high.
“Good luck.”
I sat, tension plucking my nerves, in the moment just before something good happens, where the promise of what could be meets the worry of what might not. Like the day you go to a new school, or the seconds backstage before you walk out and say the opening line that you’ve been practicing for months and months. Like the moment when you first open a book, uncertain of whether or not you’ll enjoy it. You decide to read the first page, and word by word it draws you in until you’ve reached the end of the first chapter without realizing it, then the second. Could the rest of the story live up to the promise? You’d have to wait and see.
“Oh, there he is,” Quentin said. “Wow, he does look like a hardass.” I turned to see the man walking into the auditorium and my heart stopped.
CHAPTER FOUR
Eliot. He held a tablet loosely in his hand as he walked down the aisle to the front of the auditorium. I sunk down in my seat, my throat suddenly seized up in terror.
“Don’t worry,” Mark whispered over to me. He mistook my reaction for fear of a different kind. “You’ll do fine.”
“Good morning,” Eliot said, his voice booming through the auditorium. Most of my professors needed a microphone to lecture in this hall, but his voice carried across all of the rows without any problem. Standing in the front of the room, he seemed much taller than before, more menacing. Everybody was instantly silent.
“My name is Dr. Herceg and I will be administering the test for the internship prize. Welcome.”
As his gaze scanned the audience, I bowed my head. Blood rushed to my face and I scrunched down even more, trying to use Quentin to block myself from view. Eliot was still talking, but his voice seemed to come from far away and there was a buzzing in my ears. I couldn’t pay attention.
Him! Eliot! It was his internship! The pieces clicked into place just like a mathematical identity. Of course. Why hadn’t I realized earlier? His accent. The piano. But more importantly, what do I do now?
I tuned back in. “You will be given the problems one by one. If you finish a problem early, continue to solve it in as many different ways as possible. I will be able to see all student work from here, anonymously.” He tapped the tablet in front of him. Quentin glanced back at Mark and raised his eyebrow.