Chapter 3

"Sorry, man," Austin said in the voice message. "I was just joking around. I didn't think Gloria would actually rip up your ticket to prove she doesn't love you."

I forwarded the video to Gloria. She didn't respond until the next day, once she sobered up.

[I had too much to drink last night and forgot to tell you. You should print another ticket.]

My grip tightened around my phone. I called her.

"Gloria, if I hadn't sent you that video, when were you going to tell me? Right before the test?"

For a moment, she said nothing. Then she snapped, "Would you stop turning everything into some jealous argument?"

She hung up before I could answer.

Getting into a college near Gloria was the main reason I cared so much about the SAT. Now, I no longer wanted to follow her anywhere.

I called my aunt, Michelle Reyes, at the research institute.

"Aunt Michelle, the code's working. I'd like to take you up on your offer to join the institute through special admission."

"Victor, that's wonderful! I'm so glad you finally changed your mind. What about your girlfriend? Is she moving here, too?"

I sighed. "Gloria and I are done."

I was already helping Aunt Michelle's institute tackle some of its toughest problems by writing code for their research. With what I remembered from my previous life, I could handle even their most complicated projects with ease.

With no SAT to worry about, I focused on packing for the move.

The day before the test, messages from my classmates flooded my phone.

[Victor, where are those SAT practice questions you promised us?]

[The test's tomorrow! Hurry up!]

[Are you sending them or not? I need to be in bed by ten!]

Now, they were all desperate to get their hands on the questions.

When I had offered to put them together and urged everyone to take studying seriously, they laughed in my face.

"You're just jealous because everyone likes Austin. Is this how you get people to pay attention to you?"

"Please. Nobody wants your stupid practice questions!"

I sent one message to the class group chat.

[There are no practice questions. You're on your own.]

Replies poured in immediately.

[What's that supposed to mean? You promised you'd send them. You can't just back out now!]

[I haven't even studied because I was waiting for your questions! You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?]

[Alright, we get it. You're mad because we called you out for picking on Austin. We're sorry, okay? Now send the questions!]

I scoffed and typed my reply.

[Didn't you say nobody wanted my stupid practice questions? If they're so worthless, why did you skip studying and count on me to do the work for you?

[Your future is your responsibility. If you can't be bothered to study, you deserve to fail.]

I had never spoken to them like that before. They didn't take it well, and angry messages flooded the chat.

I was about to put my phone away when Austin shared a ZIP file.

[I'm not as smart as Victor, but I've spent a lot of time going through old SAT practice tests and putting together some questions. Hopefully these help!]

I opened the file. Not one question was relevant to the SAT.

My classmates loved it.

[Austin, you're the best! First you take care of our tickets, and now you're helping us study. Why isn't someone like you class president instead of Victor?]

[All Victor does is get jealous and make everything about himself.]

A notification appeared on my screen. They had kicked me out of the group.

It didn't bother me. There was something they apparently hadn't noticed yet.

During their party, several admission tickets slipped out of Austin's backpack and landed in the trash.

-

On the morning of the SAT, I stopped by the school to watch everyone head off to the test.

Even from a distance, I could see a crowd gathered around Austin.

"Are you sure they're not in another bag? They have to be somewhere."

Austin rummaged through his backpack, his eyes red.

"I don't understand. I checked last night. Everyone's ticket was in here. I swear."

He was lying. I saw those tickets fall into the trash in the video. If he checked them last night, he would've noticed they were missing.

My classmates kept glancing toward the waiting bus, but they were still trying to stay calm.

"It's alright. Check again. We've still got half an hour."

Ten minutes later, they emptied every pocket of Austin's backpack. The missing tickets were nowhere to be found.

Without a printed admission ticket, none of them would be allowed into the testing room.