I give her my assignment. ‘Look, Miss, I’m so sorry,’ I say.
‘The assignment was due by the start of English class, third period,’ she says. ‘Now, if you had a good excuse, I’d let it slide this once,’ Mrs Cheney says, taking my assignment, ‘but since you don’t, I’ll have to deduct marks.’
Part of me wants to fight, to tell her it’s only two hours late. Tell her that it’s our first major assignment and I deserve a second chance. But after my meeting with Mr Pitt, I’m thinking I’ve had all the second chances I can expect at Kentsworth.
I feel so light-headed. I just want to sleep and forget this day ever happened. My head drops to my chest. I’ve gifted Andrew a free pass in this challenge. ‘Okay, Miss. It’s only fair.’
‘Thanks for understanding, Connor,’ Mrs Cheney says, her voice softening. ‘While I have you here, why do you always seem so dazed in my classes?’
‘It’s because I’m not that smart,’ I say. ‘I feel like a pretender in there. I never come up with the right answers.’
‘English isn’t like Maths – there is usually more than just one answer.’ Mrs Cheney flicks through my assignment. ‘I know you’re a bright kid, Connor, you just need to make your voice heard.’
I go outside and face the sun, feeling dizzier with each step. The breeze almost knocks me over. I make my way to the bench to find the nerdy rejects but there’s a crowd waiting for me instead.
‘There he is!’ someone yells. They all flock to me as if they’re seagulls and I’m a hot chip.
I can’t shake off the 500YOWzer effect and a few girls lunge at me. They open their mouths so wide that I can see their lungs.
‘What is Gary like up close?’ one of the girls asks.
‘He’s crazy but nice,’ I say.
‘You have guts for skipping school, Con-nerd,’ a burly kid says. It’s the same guy from the anime club. ‘You’re welcome into our club anytime.’
Roshan, Andrew’s basketball coach, pushes through to the front. ‘We all saw you on TV, man.’ He holds out his fist. ‘Kentsworth represent! Don’t think we’ve ever had cred like that before.’
I try to smile but end up looking like a chipmunk, showing my two front teeth. ‘Thanks.’ I bump his fist.
Roshan grins. ‘You’re cool, Con-nerd.’
I tell everybody about my experience with 500YOW for the whole of lunch. The bell rings and the crowd finally disperses, still squawking about the concert.
Irene and the others come out from behind the shade of a nearby tree.
‘Looks like you’re a nerdy rock star,’ Galway says.
‘Wow, I still can’t believe you jigged school,’ Irene says. ‘I wouldn’t do it, not even if the Journey of Legends tournament was on.’
‘Don’t worry, Reeen,’ Vinh says. ‘You could still go and a gnome could cover for you.’
‘Say that again, Vinh Bin!’ Irene chases Vinh around me. She finally jumps on his back, trying to get him in a headlock.
Galway laughs. ‘I’m sure the concert was worth it, right, Con-nerd?’
I’m not so sure. Mama’s going to kill me, unless Mandy beats her to it.
I get home and Mama launches into a marathon lecture. We’re sitting around the dining table. She taps the edge of the table like she’s Gerald playing up a storm on his piano. ‘I’m just so disappointed in you, Connor.’
She’s already smashed her record of the number of times she’s said ‘disappointed’ in one night.
I look at the dark lines across her forehead. ‘I’m really sorry, Mama.’
I’ve set a record of saying the sorry word too. I should have it tattooed across my forehead.
‘You’ve let Mandy down too,’ Mama says. ‘Her mum trusted you to look after her.’
‘I know.’ I’ll probably break my own sorry record when I see Mandy. If she ever wants to see me again. ‘I just wanted her to be my friend again, like old times.’
Mama leans back in her chair. ‘You let yourself down, Connor.’
‘I know, Mama.’ I put my head in my hands. ‘That’s why I’ll go back to tutoring. I’ll just forget about Cosmic Smash and my comics.’
‘I don’t want you to go as punishment,’ Mama says. ‘Your heart needs to be in it.’
‘I know you’ve tried so hard to let me do my own thing.’ I stare back at her. ‘I’m just so scared of letting you down at school. I’m not coming first any more.’
Mama shakes her head. ‘That doesn’t matter.’
‘I’m not even in the top five.’ My words flow like a burst water bubbler. ‘I’m down the bottom. I feel as if I’m an imposter at selective school.’
‘You made it in because of your creativity,’ Mama says.
‘Try telling that to Andrew. He’s always telling me that I don’t belong there,’ I say. ‘He’s smarter than me. A real super nerd.’ I bash my knees together. ‘But he’s ruthless for marks and success.’
Mama glances at Dad’s shrine. ‘Your father had the same problem.’
‘Did he have to face off against a super nerd too?’
‘No, a super player named Han,’ Mama says. ‘Han kept wanting to challenge your father to a match. After months of pestering, your father agreed.’
I gulp. ‘Was he better than Dad?’
‘Han was very good. But he had help from his coach during the match.’ Mama waves her hands in the air. ‘He used hand signals to communicate with him from the sidelines, which is illegal. Nobody spotted him, except for your father. He knew from watching Han’s other matches.’
I smile. At least Dad had better eyesight than me.
‘So your father confronted Han before the match and told him to play clean this time, but Han refused.’
I stood up. ‘Dad should have told the officials that Han cheated.’
‘That’s what I said too,’ Mama says. ‘But your Dad played the match anyway and Han beat him.’
I sit back down. ‘I can’t believe Dad didn’t say anything.’
‘Your father thought that Han would eventually be caught and he was a year later.’ Mama lays her hands on mine. ‘You need to forget about the people who want to push you around and start to run your own race.’
‘Or draw my own pages,’ I add.
‘Something like that,’ Mama says. ‘Do you want me to speak to any of the teachers about Andrew?’
I shake my head. ‘He’s just annoying, that’s all.’ But that could change if he wins the challenge. Being Squire’s slave might hurt. ‘I’ll do my best to get your trust back, Mama.’
‘You can start by being more open with me,’ she says.
‘You’re being a panda mother now.’
She hugs me with the strength of one. ‘You saying I’m fat?’
‘You’re just cuddly,’ I wheeze.
‘I’ll pray to our ancestors to protect you then.’
‘Thanks, Mama.’
I’ll need a tonne of prayers and good luck to beat Andrew.
At school, Mrs Cheney is ready to announce the challenge’s winner, though she doesn’t know it. I’m swaying around in my chair, like our class is in turbulence.
‘Wow, you’re quiet today, 7G,’ Mrs Cheney says.
Everybody’s on edge. I spot Wilson crossing his fingers, along with half the class.
Mrs Cheney holds up my graphic novel. ‘Connor, I really enjoyed your drawings that went along with your essay.’ She walks over to me. ‘I knew there was an interesting kid inside of you. Loved the comic.’
‘Thanks, Miss.’ I look at my mark: 88 percent. I had five percent deducted for being two hours late but it’s my highest mark ever. Vinh and Irene give me high fives. My head is floating up like a hot air balloon.
Mrs Cheney walks back to the front. ‘Who knows, you may top this class one day.’
Huh? I come crashing back down to earth. Mrs Cheney hands Andrew his assignment. ‘Another outstanding essay, Andrew: 92 percent. You’re working at a Year Ten level.’
‘Oh, but I wish I had Connor’s creativity.’ Andrew’s smirk makes him look like a Year 2 kid.
I smack my pencil case off the table. I was so close to beating him. I shouldn’t have gone to the concert or lost that basketball game. The rest of English is a blur.
At the end of the period, Andrew comes up to me and flicks me another business card. ‘I’ll see you at lunch, Con-slave.’
Con-slave. A nickname like that might stick after a month of following Andrew around. It’s going to feel like a whole year. What is he going to make me do? Can he really force me out of Kentsworth?
At lunchtime, I drag myself up to the library to start my slave duties for Squire. Joseph and Naveed are standing outside a study room like palace guards. ‘I hope you’re ready to get hammered,’ Joseph says.
I sigh. I wonder if Andrew’s going to make me polish his shoes. Or lug around his briefcase for him like a butler. Or even worse, get me to hand out his uncle’s business cards. I head inside the stuffy study room and Andrew’s sitting at a table with a stack of blank paper in front of him. ‘Sit down, Con-nerd.’
He rolls a pencil over to me. ‘Draw a picture of this.’ He takes out an art book and flips over to a valley in the desert.
‘Are you kidding me?’
‘Just do it.’
I look at the picture and start with the horizon.
Andrew follows my pencil. ‘You’re just drawing lines?’
I connect the lines up. ‘Yeah, I start with lines and shapes. Then I fill in the details later.’
Andrew takes a sheet a paper and tries to copy me.
I look at the dark lines on his page. ‘Sketch them lightly, so you can rub them out later. The rough lines are just for you.’
Andrew tries to dab the pencil on the paper.
We spend the whole of lunch drawing pictures, with me giving him tips. The bell rings and we compare our pictures. ‘Yours is just as good as mine,’ I say.
‘I hope it’s better than yours by the end of the month.’ Andrew tidies up the paper and files it away in his briefcase. ‘I want to be first in Visual Arts. And you’re going to help me.’
I gulp. ‘Really? You want me to tutor you?’
‘That’s what I said. Are you deaf?’ Andrew thumps the table. ‘Got a problem with that, slave?’
‘No, it’s cool.’
Andrew stands up. ‘If you tell anybody about this, watch out.’
I blink at him. Even if I told the nerdy rejects about this, they wouldn’t believe me.
I’d never have imagined that Andrew needed my help. Well, my powers and skills, so he can absorb them. He’s not a cheat. But he’s doing the next best thing. I wonder if Master Class College teaches you how to be super-sneaky with learning, doing shortcuts and cramming key facts.
Maybe that’s what super nerds do. They don’t learn for themselves.
Andrew doesn’t seem so super to me any more.
For the whole week, I spend recess and lunch drawing with Andrew, and he’s a quick learner. He gets better every day. We’ve moved on from landscapes to portraits. I’m even showing him parts of my Hyper Hybrids comic.
‘I’m handing it in to the Phantom Zone guys on Saturday,’ I say. ‘I want to be part of Cosmic Smash.’
Andrew scoffs. ‘Will they judge you on technique?’
I shrug. ‘Yeah, I guess so. It also depends if they think it’s cool.’
‘That’s why I hate creative arts.’ He brings out his pencils. ‘You have no idea what teachers are looking for. Makes it hard to study and get the best marks.’
‘I get it,’ I say. ‘You want to make your parents proud.’
Andrew looks away. ‘I just want them to know that I’m around,’ he mutters.
‘Huh?’
‘They’re both lawyers and practically live in their office.’ Andrew crushes the pencil’s lead between his fingers. ‘I go to tutoring, have dinner at my uncle’s and get home pretty late. I’m lucky if my parents beat me home.’
Andrew hurries to open his briefcase and takes out some drawings. ‘I’ve been practising. I like drawing birds. My house is next to the bush and the birds wake me up early every morning.’
‘We don’t have any early birds around my place. The stray cats have probably scared them all away. Or had them for breakfast.’
‘You need to be like a stray cat, Con-nerd. Catch that early bird.’
‘Huh?’
‘You’re just not hungry enough, Con-nerd.’ Andrew points to my stomach. ‘Where’s that fire in your belly?’ He takes out a new page and starts sketching a bird. ‘My dad tells me to smash my opposition.’
‘What, in basketball?’ I ask.
‘No, no, he’s talking about school.’ Andrew packs away his suitcase. ‘My dad says there’s no point doing something if you can’t be the best at it.’
‘My dad was like that too, when he played badminton,’ I say. ‘But he would rather play fair than win.’
Andrew scowls at me, clutching his suitcase. ‘You don’t know what it’s like!’
I grab his arm. ‘I do, man. I got into Kentsworth for my family.’
Andrew pulls himself away, but his look is more sad now than angry. ‘Making it in here wasn’t enough. I need to get top marks just so my parents know I exist.’
‘Then show them something you’re passionate about.’
I stare at his birds. Forget being Kentsworthy, Andrew doesn’t think he’s Thompsonworthy. We have more in common than I thought.
Joseph comes in and hands Andrew a sheet, which he pops it into a file marked ‘History’. Maybe Joseph isn’t really a friend, just another slave.
Andrew gets up to leave and says quietly, ‘Have a look at my other drawings – they’re in the front pocket.’
He walks out with Joseph and I keep drawing. As I’m digging into the pocket for the art, I spot Andrew’s English assignment sticking out. I wonder why Mrs Cheney went gaga over it. I look around to see if anyone’s looking then pull it onto the table. It’s definitely Andrew’s essay, but this version has red circles all over it with a lot of lines in someone else’s handwriting – and it’s not Mrs Cheney’s.
Andrew bursts back into the room. ‘What are you doing?’ he growls.
‘Your tutor helped you with your essay, didn’t he?’
‘He was just giving me some advice, like you did,’ Andrew says.
‘Yeah, but I didn’t draw your pictures.’ I get up. ‘You cheated, Andrew. You used someone else’s words. You have to tell Mrs Cheney.’
Andrew thumps the table and his briefcase tips over. ‘So you can win the challenge?’
‘I don’t care about the challenge,’ I say. ‘But you can’t get away with it forever.’
‘Look, I might take some of my tutor’s lines but I’m not cheating, okay?’ Andrew bares his teeth. ‘It’s smarter studying. All the seniors do it.’
I feel the room’s temperature rise by a million degrees. I get all my things and stuff them in my bag. ‘I’m done being your slave.’
‘Selective schools are ruthless, Con-nerd. You have to do everything you can to get an edge,’ Andrew spits. ‘Get it through your tiny little skull.’
I rush out of the library. I was crazy to think that Andrew was all right. He’s a super fraud. I run to the nerdy rejects bench and everybody’s looking at me. Irene’s busy typing on her laptop. ‘Oh, look, its Andrew’s new best buddy. Did he let you out for a quick break?’
I feel cut up inside. ‘Come on, it’s not like that.’
‘You enjoy being his slave, don’t you?’ Vinh says. ‘Do you think he’ll help you with your marks?’
I take out my sketchbook. ‘Here’s what I’ve been doing with him.’
I come clean about tutoring Andrew in drawing, and how I found out about his extra coaching in the English assignment. Even if they don’t believe me, I’m relieved to get it off my chest.
Irene’s jaw gets wider, like she’s at the dentist. ‘You hav
e to tell Mrs Cheney that he’s cheating.’
I shake my head.
‘Why not?’ Galway says. ‘He’s not a friend, is he?’
I’m all torn up inside. I could put a pin in Andrew’s bubble and bust him for good. Except that I can’t dob him in – his parents would crush him. I think about the battle between Dad and Han. Should I let Andrew get away with it?
On Saturday morning, Mama and I wander over to the Phantom Zone to hand in my comic for Cosmic Smash.
‘Thanks for letting me try out,’ I say to her.
‘We can’t let this opportunity slip away,’ Mama says. ‘You have a chance to get noticed there.’
‘I’m just glad you’re noticing me now.’ I stand in front of her. ‘I know it must be hard to let go of your tiger mother instincts.’
‘It’s just different, that’s all.’ Mama touches my cheeks. ‘I’m here to push you in doing something that you want to do.’
Inside, Chris is reading a comic behind the counter. He sees me coming and hums the Mission Impossible theme. ‘Con-nerd! You left it until the last weekend to hand in your stuff.’
I grin at him. ‘Yah, I had a lot of homework to do.’ I bring Mama over. ‘This is my mum.’
‘Nice to meet you, Mrs Wong,’ Chris says. ‘I wish my mum was as cool as you.’
Mama blushes.
Chris checks out the Hyper Hybrids cover. ‘Not Fireproof Knights?’
I shake my head. ‘This is something fresh.’
Chris smiles. ‘I’ll email you if you make it, man.’
We head to the shops afterwards.
‘Mama, even if I don’t make it, I still want to go to Cosmic Smash,’ I say. ‘I’ll learn heaps and I want to watch Vinh in the cosplay competition.’
‘As long as I can come with you,’ Mama says.
‘Maaaammmmaaaaa.’ I sound like Mandy. But nothing scares a crowd away quicker than having your mother there. Last thing I want is Mama’s surveillance, I mean, supervision.
‘I’m serious, Connor.’ Mama waggles her finger. ‘How can I support you if I don’t know anything about your kind?’
I touch my glasses. ‘You mean nerds?’
Super Con-Nerd Page 9
