Amara looked up.
“Move your foot.”
Madison’s expression was almost cheerful.
“Ask nicely.”
“Move your foot.”
Chloe laughed nervously.
Sloane continued filming.
Madison lifted her shoe.
Amara retrieved the photograph and slipped it back into its sleeve.
She stood.
“Stay away from my belongings.”
Madison rolled her eyes.
“Or what?”
Amara did not answer.
She bent to pick up her notebook.
Madison snatched it from the ground.
“Let’s see what the genius writes in her little journal.”
“Give it back.”
Madison flipped it open.
The pages were filled with mathematical notes, diagrams, and carefully organized calculations. Several pages had been marked with colored tabs.
Madison turned them over.
“Wow. You really do spend all your time studying.”
Amara reached for it.
Madison pulled it away.
“Wait. Is this where you keep the answers?”
“Give it back.”
“Maybe I should check.”
She tore out a page.
Amara went still.
Madison looked at the paper in her hand, then at Amara.
For one moment, something uncertain crossed her face.
Then she tore the page in half.
The sound was small.
Almost delicate.
But Amara felt it as if someone had struck her.
“Stop,” she said.
Madison tore another page.
“Madison, stop.”
A few students had begun to gather.
Chloe looked uncomfortable.
“Madison, maybe you should—”
“Stay out of it.”
Madison ripped another page from the notebook.
Amara reached for it.
Madison jerked away, knocking the notebook from her hands. It landed open on the asphalt.
Then Madison grabbed Amara’s examination folder from the side pocket of her backpack.
“Don’t touch that,” Amara said.
Madison pulled out the graded practice assessment Amara had brought with her.
It contained a set of advanced problems, each marked with comments from Mr. Larkin.
Madison looked at the pages.
“More proof.”
“That’s my practice paper.”
“Sure it is.”
She tore it.
One page became two.
Two became four.
Amara stared at the fragments as they fell to the pavement.