Chapter 4: The System Strikes Back

At the monthly exam, I jumped from over 300th to 40th place. My dad hired a Harvard and a Stanford student to tutor me two-on-one, breaking down every concept until I got it. Luckily, I was smart and hardworking. When my scores came out, my dad doubled their pay.

The tutors were relentless, but I soaked it up. For the first time in ages, I felt like my brain was waking up. My dad even cracked a rare smile at dinner. I almost cried into my mashed potatoes.

Carter slipped from 20th to over 30th place, only holding on because he was still getting charisma from Jessica—but it wasn’t much. Jessica, sapped by the app, also dropped over 30 places. Both were called in for talks by their homeroom teachers. Jessica was weirdly thrilled to be summoned with Carter—classic lovesick fool.

I’d figured out how Carter’s scores worked. The Heartbreaker App gave him answers worth as many points as his current charisma value, and all he had to do was copy them down. Deep down, he was still that hopeless slacker.

When the scores were posted, my homeroom teacher treated me even worse, calling me a parasite and making me take my desk outside the classroom. I froze for a second—did she really just say that? I refused, so she refused to teach. The class tried to persuade her, but she insisted—she needed to save her pride.

After half a class, the class president tried to talk me into it. "Heather, maybe just sit by the door. You can still hear."

"Why should I?" I shot back, glaring at the teacher. "You sure you don’t want to teach?"

She spat, "Trash like you, ruining the state’s top student—being allowed to listen from outside is a blessing."

I nodded. "Fine. If you don’t want to teach, then don’t."

I left with my phone. She smiled, lecturing the class not to end up like me. But before her class was over, the district superintendent showed up at school. I waited outside, watching as she panicked, bowing and scraping. "Superintendent, what’s the matter?"

One pointed at me. "Ms. Monroe, what were you thinking? No matter how mad you are, you can’t keep a student out of class."

She tried to explain, "This student is notorious for being difficult. I just wanted to teach her a lesson."

I smiled. "Ms. Monroe, when you accuse someone, remember there are cameras in the classroom."

"So what? I didn’t say anything wrong," she blustered at me, but turned meek with the superintendent. "Superintendent, she’s notorious for being unmanageable. I had no choice."

The superintendent coughed, hinting, "No matter the reason, you can’t keep a student from class. Why hold a grudge?"

She grew more aggrieved. "I had a student who was going to be the state’s top scorer, but now she’s ruined. How can I not be upset?"

The superintendent sighed, making it clearer. "You’re an experienced teacher. You should know the backgrounds of your students. If you get penalized, you can’t complain."

She looked like she’d been struck by lightning, but said nothing more. The superintendent turned to me kindly. "Go back to class, young lady."

At first, my classmates resented the teacher’s removal. But within a day, we got a younger, better homeroom teacher who was great at teaching and making class fun. No one fell asleep anymore. Soon, no one cared what happened to the old teacher.

The new teacher brought snacks on Fridays and let us play music during study hall. The smell of popcorn and the thump of pop songs made the classroom feel alive. For the first time, I actually looked forward to class.