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After seeing George Jr. off again, Mike grabbed Sheldon and headed over to the shuttle bus, where they met up with Ms. Sheron and the rest of the team.
"Look who finally showed up! Our star player Mike, and the boy wonder himself, Sheldon..." Kevin, the team captain, was buzzing with energy. He was still rocking his signature over-the-top streetwear look, looking like he was ready for a rap battle instead of a math test.
Before he could keep goofing off, Ms. Sheron cut in. "Everyone's here, so let's get moving. If we get to the venue early, we'll have more time to get settled and focused."
Ms. Sheron seemed a lot more serious than usual today.
The end-of-the-year Math Olympiad was a massive regional event sanctioned by the Board of Education. To keep things fair, the brackets were divided into specific divisions based on school size and resources, with eight teams per division. This ensured that a regular public school like Medford High wouldn't get steamrolled by some elite, private prep school from downtown Houston.
Because winning the regional title came with a nice bonus—an extra college credit—this tournament was a huge deal. For kids at a normal public school, it was one of the best ways to beef up their college applications and catch the eye of top-tier universities.
Once the team and Sheldon—their "special guest observer"—settled into their seats, Ms. Sheron started going over the game plan.
It was an eight-team, single-elimination bracket. Because the schedule was so tight, each match—including the halftime break—was capped at an hour. If everything went according to plan, they'd go through all seven matches and crown a champion by the end of the day.
After the briefing, Ms. Sheron pulled some t-shirts out of her tote bag and handed them out. The tournament had a strict dress code: everyone had to wear team colors. The Medford uniform was a simple black tee with "Medford High" printed across the front. She even had a small one ready for Sheldon.
"Alright, everyone, try to get some rest on the way. I'll wake you up when we get there," Ms. Sheron said, handling the last-minute details.
It was about a forty-minute drive from the high school to the Mathematics Center. As the faculty advisor, she wanted them to be sharp and well-rested so they could hit the ground running.
Mike leaned back against Katy, planning to catch a quick nap, when a skinny figure crept over to him.
"Mike, sorry to bug you, but I need to talk to you about something important," Kevin whispered, looking uncharacteristically mysterious.
Seeing how serious he was, Mike gave Katy a quick "brb" look and followed Kevin to the back of the bus.
"I scouted the competition last year, so I have a pretty good handle on the other seven schools," Kevin said once they were out of earshot.
According to him, schools like St. Jude's and Garden Heights weren't really a threat. The only one they had to worry about was Marymount High, last year's reigning champs.
To take them down, Kevin had cooked up a "secret weapon" strategy: he wanted Mike to play the "Rookie Card."
Kevin explained his logic: Mike was way too good-looking. To most people, a guy who looks like a star quarterback or a Hollywood lead gives off a "party boy" vibe. The stereotype among the nerds was that if you're that handsome, you're probably too busy having a social life to actually hit the books.
The Conclusion: Good looks and high IQ are usually inversely proportional—at least in their opponents' minds.
Kevin wanted Mike to hold back during the first round of rapid-fire questions. If he played it cool and acted a bit unsure, he could pass himself off as a lucky amateur.
That way, when they got to the "Sudden Death" one-on-one round, the other team would likely target Mike, thinking he was the weak link. Little would they know they were picking a fight with a ringer.
If the plan worked, Medford would have a cakewalk to the trophy. Everyone on the team knew Mike was a math genius; Kevin just wanted to use that to bait the trap. It was the classic "underdog" play to guarantee a win.
"Sure, I can do that. I'll read the room and play along," Mike agreed. He'd done enough acting to pull it off, and he liked the idea of having the game's outcome in his own hands.
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Forty minutes later, the bus pulled up to the Mathematics Center.
The building was old-school and minimalist—just a vast hall filled with rows of folding chairs. No bells or whistles, just pure functionality. At the front of the room, a high-tech projector had been set up to display the problems, flanked by two sets of podiums for the competing teams.
It was 9:30 AM. They had about thirty minutes until kickoff.
"Bathroom break now if you need it. Everyone else, take a seat and stay sharp," Ms. Sheron said as she led them to their designated cheering section in the front row.
The hall was already filling up. Including Medford, five teams had arrived. Since each squad was small—usually under ten people including the coach—the huge room still felt a bit empty and quiet.
As Mike sat down, he immediately noticed a group nearby wearing Marymount Academy jackets.
"See that guy with the curly hair? That's Carter. I saw him kill it from the stands last year..." Kevin leaned in, nodding toward a studious-looking kid in the center of the Marymount group.
Kevin clearly had a chip on his shoulder. It made sense—Marymount had bounced Medford last year to take the gold. Between school pride and the natural competitive itch, Kevin wasn't exactly a fan.
Plus, Mike noticed that Carter was the polar opposite of Kevin. While Kevin was all about loud clothes and high energy, Carter looked incredibly disciplined—pressed clothes, perfect posture, and a very "by-the-book" demeanor. They were two different worlds clashing.
While Kevin was busy trash-talking him, Carter seemed to feel eyes on him and looked over.
The two captains locked eyes across the room. You could practically feel the static in the air. Both of them clearly recognized the other as the man to beat.
Finally, Carter gave a stiff, polite nod and looked away first.
"Psh, look at him acting all sophisticated," Kevin scoffed, rolling his eyes. He clearly wasn't buying the "gentleman" act.
The remaining three teams trickled in over the next twenty minutes. By 10:00 AM, the hall was full, and the regional Math Olympiad officially began.
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