Thousand Dollar Friend

Chapter 9 - Death by Calculus

Guilt ate away at me on Thursday. I knew I was being selfish. I mean, what kind of person makes a friend for money?

I didn't want to think about it, so I studied. I delved into precalculus: old notes, online tutorials, anything. I tried to re-teach myself a year's worth of material in a day. I studied at home, in the cafeteria, in bed. Because if I was thinking about school, I wasn't thinking about my problems.

So on Friday morning, I close my precalculus notebook and swing my legs out of bed with a sigh. I throw on a trendy white halter top and some ripped jeans. I pull my curls back into a messy ponytail, swipe on some eyeliner just because, and dab acne cream and concealer over a few persistent red spots.

I still look great, despite my brain being fried. I don't think I can bear any more studying. So I do some sudoku puzzles on my phone during breakfast, instead of studying while I get ready for school.

At school, I sit in the front of calculus class, preparing my notebook as Mr. Leibniz erases equations for the board. Here's an equation for you: calculus = pain.

"We'll be starting Friday with a pop quiz," Mr. Leibniz says.

WHAT?

"It's the first week of school!" wails some guy near the back. "And it's Friday!"

"My phone tells me the date," Mr. Leibniz replies. "I don't need you to do it too.

"This quiz will separate those who can from those who cannot," Mr. Leibniz says while I scramble to get out pencils and an eraser. "Not everyone is cut out for calculus! It's not too late to drop the class if you fail."

The hijabi girl next to me passes me a quiz, and I read over the questions, trying to ignore the panic clenching my chest and rising up to my throat. Remember your studying, Tara! You have to remember everything...

Calm down, Tara. Remember what Mom said.

In the past

"UGH!" I exclaimed, letting my face fall onto the keyboard of the family computer.

My mom walked over. "Something wrong, sweetie?"

"I have a million problems to do this weekend," I groaned.

My mom took out her phone and typed something. She narrowed her eyes and nodded. "Okay, that's 348 problems per minute. Think you can manage that?"

I laughed. My mom always had a way of finding silver linings.

"How many problems do you actually have?" she asked me.

I looked at the screen with a sigh. "Thirty."

She nodded her head in thought. "Okay. That can be done. Any reasonable task can be accomplished if we break it into steps. Let's say 15 problems today, and 15 tomorrow. Now, what's the first step you can take to accomplish that?"

"I can do the first problem."

Today

I can do this. One problem at a time. Any reasonable task can be accomplished.

I take a deep breath and look at the first problem. I need to take the first derivative of 5x + 1.

Okay, first derivatives! I read about those! That's, like, the coefficient of x. In this case, 5x. So the answer would be 5. (I hope it's 5.)

I write down my answer and move on to the next question. I need the first derivative of -14x - 2. Okay, I can do this, the answer is just -14, maybe I'm not failing after all...