CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 31

EZRA

By Saturday, I wasn’t even human anymore.

I was a machine.

A very tired, over-caffeinated, note-munching machine.

Lily FaceTimed me at 7 a.m., waving her flashcards. “You alive?”

“Barely,” I muttered, holding up my own pile of notes. “If I stare at one more theorem, my eyes are going to bleed.”

“That’s dramatic,” she said.

“It’s true,” I argued.

Jordan leaned into Lily’s camera view. “Don’t let him fool you. He loves this. He gets off on suffering.”

I glared. “I do not.”

“You kinda do,” Lily said, giggling.

I groaned and dropped my head onto the desk. “Why do I have friends?”

“Because we make you laugh,” Jordan said smoothly. “Now, study.”

I had my books spread across the dining table, highlighters everywhere, laptop open with three tabs of practice questions.

Genevieve passed by at one point, pausing in the doorway. “Ezra.”

I didn’t look up. “Yes?”

“Eat.”

“I did,” I mumbled.

“Properly.”

“I will.”

She sighed but didn’t push further. She never did during exam season. It was the one time she tolerated me turning into a zombie.

Church on Sunday was worse.

Normally, I was front row, singing like my lungs would split. But not this time.

I kept my head down, mouthing half the words. When the choir swayed, I barely moved.

After the final hymn, Lily nudged me. “You okay?”

“Exam season,” I whispered.

She nodded, like that explained everything.

Everyone knew it. Once exams hit, Ezra Monroe went silent mode.

I didn’t even stay after. The second the closing prayer ended, I bolted.

I could feel Father Dorian’s gaze like a laser on my back, but I didn’t turn. I couldn’t.

If I stopped to talk, I’d fail. Or worse—say something stupid and combust.

So I ran.

Monday morning came too fast.

The campus buzzed with panic. Students were huddled in corners, muttering formulas, flipping through flashcards.

Lily clutched her notes like they were a lifeline. “If I fail this, Ezra, bury me under the bleachers.”

“You’re not failing,” I said flatly.

She groaned. “Easy for you to say, math boy.”

“Stop calling me that.”

She smirked. “Math boy.”

“Lily.”

“Math. Boy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Focus.”

Jordan walked past, tossing us energy bars. “Eat. No one faints in the exam hall. That’s embarrassing.”

I ripped mine open. “Yes, Mom.”

She flipped me off over her shoulder.

The exam itself was brutal.

Three hours. Numbers, formulas, proofs that twisted until my head hurt.

I wrote until my fingers cramped. When the proctor finally called, “Time’s up,” I dropped my pen like it weighed a ton.

Outside, Lily was already whining. “That was evil. Who writes questions like that?”

Jordan deadpanned, “People who want you to cry.”

“I almost did!” Lily said.

I just laughed weakly, my brain fried.

By the time I got home, I was ready to collapse.

Genevieve looked up from her book as I trudged inside. “How was it?”

“Hell,” I said honestly.

“Language.”

“Sorry.”

She smiled faintly. “Go rest.”

I nodded, dragging myself up the stairs.

My room felt like heaven. I kicked off my shoes, didn’t bother changing, and face-planted into the bed.

Out cold in seconds.