Curvy Girls Can’t Date Soldiers by Kelsie Stelting

Forty-One

Nadira

“Nadira!”

I turned around to see my mom walking toward me, the crack of her heels sharp against the sidewalk. Behind me, I could hear a car revving, tires squealing out of the parking lot.

“What was that about?” she demanded, her eyebrows coming together. Dad was only a few steps behind her, giving me a quizzical look.

My lips parted to explain, but she already had her hand on my arm and was leading me back toward the stairs. My dad walked on my other side, just as silent as I was.

“You’re going to miss this round!” she said, starting up the stairs. “You’ll be lucky if Mr. Aris lets you compete at all today.”

Lucky. A word I never would have used to describe myself.

“And what was that about Apollo? Did he not know who you were? Why was he sitting with Tatiana?”

Dad held the door open for us, and we walked into the school, which was much quieter than when I had left it. The first round must have been well underway. And I wasn’t in there. Not only had I missed out on a chance with Apollo, I’d forfeited participating in one of my very last matches.

We reached the classroom and Mom reached for the door, but I took her hand. “Wait!”

“What?” she said.

“We can’t go in,” I whispered. “They don’t let people inside once the round’s in progress. It could get us disqualified.”

“Why?”

“Because the answers have already been given on some problems,” I explained. “It was a big issue a few years ago.”

Mom let go of my knob, stepping back. “Then what do we do?”

“We have to wait.” I let out a sigh and began walking toward the cafeteria.

The next half hour felt like the longest of my life. Not only did I have the constant image of Apollo’s hurt expression on my mind, but his voice echoed in my ears, saying he never wanted to see or hear from me ever again.

My parents continually gave each other looks. I could tell Mom wanted to talk to me, but as far as I could tell, Dad was staying way out of it. Normally, I’d be embarrassed, but the pain was too big for me to care.

Slowly, the lunchroom became more and more crowded as teams came to wait a few minutes between rounds.

The hairs rose on the back of my neck as my team and their supporters—parents, grandparents, and more—approached. I knew they’d likely handily beat our opponents, but I’d still run out on them. Of course, Tatiana was nowhere to be found.

I chanced a glimpse at Mr. Aris, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Regina, however, did. She glared at me so harshly, her gaze could have singed ash.

Mr. Aris checked a green sheet of paper, then said, “This way.”

We followed him silently down the hall, a heavy cloud over our group, until we reached the art room. He led us inside, but when I went to take my seat in the captain’s chair, Mr. Aris said, “No, that’s Regina’s seat now.”

I was too stunned to move as Regina slid past me and sat down with a haughty grin. My legs barely registered as they carried me to the next chair over. Donovan and the other two boys were completely silent. Not that I could have heard them over the rushing in my ears.

The captain’s position may not have meant much, but it was a title of respect. It said you worked hard in math, that you were smart, dedicated. I hadn’t had someone chosen over me. I’d been demoted, which was ineffably worse.

I blinked my stinging eyes as I situated my scrap paper and pencil. The judge, our art teacher, asked if our team was ready.

Regina said, “Yes.”

I threw myself into the competition, using each question to distract myself from the torment I knew would come tonight when I lay in bed with nothing to divert my attention from the mistake I’d made. Between Regina attempting to prove she’d earned her spot as captain and my furious calculations, the team performed better than ever. We progressed further and further throughout the day until we were seated on the auditorium stage for the championship round against our school’s biggest rival, Brentwood Academy.

Unlike other meets, there were plenty of people here. Despite the spotlights being on us, I could make out the faces of my friends. Of my parents. Of my brothers sitting with the rest of the basketball team and Carver wearing a paper crown with writing on the front.

Tatiana caught my eyes and wiggled her fingers at me with a triumphant grin.

Rage stronger than anything I’d ever felt consumed me, and I turned my eyes back toward the judge. If I couldn’t best Tatiana in her games, I’d be the best in mine.

Brentwood Academy sat across the stage from us, and they’d come to play. I remembered facing them earlier in the season and losing by a hair. But this time, I was determined not to let it happen.

While my team competed the best we had all season, so did Brentwood Academy. We reached the final question of the round, ending... in a tie.

Headmaster Bradford spoke into the microphone attached to the podium in the middle of the stage. “The last time the state championship ended in a tie was in 1947, between Brentwood Academy and Emerson Academy, with Emerson Academy ultimately taking the victory. The rivalry between our two great schools was alive and well then and has continued through the years. Let’s see who will be the victor today.”

He reached into the podium, taking fresh sheets of paper. “We’ll dispose of your scrap paper from earlier and put a fresh page before you. You may not converse between team members. If both captains answer incorrectly, the next in line will have a chance to answer and so on until we reach the end of the table. Coaches, you may come align your team in the desired order.”

I looked up from my spot to see Mr. Aris walking our way. He had a grim set about his face, like a tie was the last thing he’d wanted. As soon as he reached our table, he said, “Regina, you’re in the captain’s chair. Then Donovan, Richard, Bryan, and Nadira, you’ll sit at the end.”

Regina’s eyes widened. “Mr. Aris. We need to have our best up front.”

Mr. Aris looked at her and then met my eyes. “Being the best isn’t just about finding the right answers,” he said. Then he turned and walked away.

My heart shattered then, knowing there was no chance the opportunity to answer would ever reach me. Our team was making history—the first tiebreaker in more than sixty years, and I’d counted myself out of the competition, all because of a lie. All because of my insecurities.

Headmaster Bradford read off the question, and with tears streaming down my cheeks and blurring my vision, I copied it down. The seconds ticked past as I drew closer to the answer. I solved it and set my pencil down, silently begging Regina to get the question right.

She slammed her palm on the buzzer, and Headmaster Bradford called on her, a proud smile on his face. “Yes, Regina?”

Her voice shook as she read the answer, and I didn’t need to hear Headmaster Bradford’s words or see his face to know she’d gotten it wrong. Because I had the right answer on my sheet, and what she’d said wasn’t it.

The Brentwood Academy captain buzzed in and read his answer.

Headmaster Bradford’s voice was solemn as he said, “The Mathlete State Championship goes to Brentwood Academy.”

I’d lost, in more ways than one.