Marcus stared at the whiteboard, his mind a blank slate. The final question of the state mathematics championship glared back at him, a jumble of symbols and numbers that usually made perfect sense. But not today. Not with his father’s piercing gaze boring into the back of his head from the audience.
He gripped the dry-erase marker tighter, willing his brain to kick into gear. The clock ticked mercilessly, each second feeling like a hammer blow to his rapidly eroding confidence. His teammates – Zoe, Lena, and Jamal – watched with bated breath, their hopes pinned on his usually razor-sharp mathematical prowess.
“Thirty seconds remaining,” the moderator announced, his voice echoing through the hushed auditorium.
Marcus’s hand trembled. He could feel the weight of expectation crushing down on him. His father had never attended one of these competitions before, always too busy with work or simply uninterested. But today, of all days, he’d shown up unannounced. Marcus had spotted him just before the final round began, and his concentration had shattered like fine china on a tile floor.
“You’ve got this, Marcus,” Zoe whispered encouragingly from behind him. But her words felt distant, drowned out by the thundering of his own heartbeat.
The problem before him was complex – a multivariable calculus nightmare involving optimization and constraints. On any other day, Marcus would have reveled in its intricacy. Now, it might as well have been written in ancient Sumerian.
“Fifteen seconds,” the moderator intoned.
Panic rose in Marcus’s throat like bile. He glanced back at his team, seeing the worry etched on their faces. Mr. Abernathy, their coach, stood at the edge of the stage, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Marcus turned back to the board, took a deep breath, and raised the marker. His mind was still foggy, but muscle memory took over. He began writing, not fully conscious of what his hand was doing. Equations flowed from the tip of the marker, filling the whiteboard with a cascade of mathematical notation.
“Time’s up!” the moderator called out. “Please step away from the board.”
Marcus blinked, coming out of his trance-like state. He looked at what he’d written, truly seeing it for the first time. It was… correct. Or at least, he was pretty sure it was. He stumbled back to join his teammates, feeling light-headed.
“Judges, please review the solution,” the moderator said.
The next few minutes were an eternity. Marcus barely registered Zoe’s comforting hand on his shoulder or Lena’s nervous fidgeting beside him. Jamal stood stock-still, eyes fixed on the judges’ table.
Finally, the head judge stood up. “After careful review, we can confirm that the solution provided by Millbrook High School is correct and complete. Congratulations to the Millbrook Mathletes, this year’s state champions!”
The auditorium erupted in cheers. Marcus felt his teammates engulf him in a group hug, their excited shouts mixing with the applause. Through the chaos, he caught a glimpse of his father. The man’s face was a mask of shock and… was that pride?
As they were ushered off the stage, trophy in hand, Mr. Abernathy beamed at them. “I couldn’t be prouder,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve come so far, all of you.”
In the lobby, surrounded by well-wishers and proud parents, the team basked in their victory. Marcus felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find his father standing there, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.
“Son, I… I had no idea,” his father said, gesturing vaguely at the trophy and the crowd. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?”
Marcus shrugged, feeling a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite untangle. “You never asked,” he said simply.
His father winced at that, then nodded slowly. “I suppose I deserved that. Listen, I know I haven’t been the most… present father. But what I saw in there today, it was incredible. You were incredible.”
Before Marcus could respond, Zoe appeared at his side, grinning from ear to ear. “Marcus! We did it! I can’t believe we actually won!” She noticed his father and extended her hand. “Oh, hello! I’m Zoe, Marcus’s teammate.”
Marcus’s father shook her hand, looking bemused. “Nice to meet you, Zoe. I’m David, Marcus’s father.”
“Oh!” Zoe’s eyes widened in recognition. “It’s great to finally meet you, Mr. Chen. Marcus has told us so much about you.”
David raised an eyebrow at that, glancing at his son. “Has he now?”
Marcus felt his face grow hot. “Zoe, I think Lena was looking for you earlier,” he said quickly, trying to change the subject.
Zoe took the hint. “Right, I should go find her. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Chen!” She disappeared into the crowd, leaving Marcus alone with his father.
“So,” David said after a moment, “you talk about me to your friends?”
Marcus shrugged again, feeling uncomfortable. “Sometimes. Look, Dad, I know you’re probably wondering why I never told you about all this. It’s just… you always seemed so focused on your work, and Mom was always the one who encouraged my interest in math. After she died, I guess I just… kept it to myself.”
David’s face softened. “Marcus, I’m so sorry. I know I haven’t been the most attentive father since your mother passed. But seeing you up there today, it reminded me so much of her. She would have been so proud of you.”
Marcus felt a lump form in his throat. “Thanks, Dad,” he managed to say.
“Listen,” David continued, “I know I can’t make up for lost time, but I’d like to try and be more involved. Maybe you could tell me more about this math team of yours over dinner tonight?”
Before Marcus could respond, Lena burst through the crowd, her eyes wild with excitement. “Marcus! You won’t believe what I just found out!”
David chuckled. “I’ll let you celebrate with your friends. We’ll talk later, okay?”
Marcus nodded, watching his father disappear into the sea of people. He turned to Lena, who was practically vibrating with energy. “What’s up?”
“Okay, so you know how I’ve been obsessed with sacred geometry lately?” Lena said, speaking so fast her words almost blurred together. “Well, I was talking to one of the judges, and it turns out she’s a professor who specializes in the mathematical applications of sacred geometry in architecture! She offered to let me sit in on some of her classes next semester!”
Marcus grinned, genuinely happy for his friend. “Lena, that’s amazing! I know how much you’ve been into that stuff lately.”
Lena beamed, her earlier nervousness completely forgotten in her excitement. “I know, right? It’s like the universe is finally aligning or something. Oh, and get this – she said the final question was inspired by some ancient Egyptian temple designs. How cool is that?”
“Very cool,” Marcus agreed. He was about to ask for more details when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Mr. Abernathy, looking more energized than he had in months.
“Marcus, my boy,” the old teacher said, his eyes twinkling, “I have to thank you. You and this whole team, really.”
“Thank us?” Marcus asked, confused. “For what?”
Mr. Abernathy chuckled. “For reminding an old man why he got into teaching in the first place. I was all set to retire at the end of this year, you know. Thought I’d lost my touch, that I couldn’t connect with students anymore. But working with you four, seeing how far you’ve come… well, let’s just say I might be sticking around a bit longer.”
Marcus felt a warmth spread through his chest. “Really? That’s great news, Mr. Abernathy. We couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
The teacher waved off the compliment. “Nonsense. You kids did all the hard work. I just pointed you in the right direction now and then. Speaking of which, where are Zoe and Jamal? We should get a team photo with the trophy.”
As if on cue, Zoe appeared, dragging a reluctant-looking Jamal behind her. “Found him!” she announced triumphantly. “He was trying to sneak off to the computer lab to check on some coding project.”
Jamal rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance in his expression. “I just wanted to make sure my algorithm was still running. This competition took longer than I expected.”
“Always with the coding,” Lena teased. “You do realize we just won a math competition, right? With actual, you know, math?”
“Hey, coding is math,” Jamal protested. “Just because it’s not all fancy equations and geometry doesn’t make it any less valid.”
Mr. Abernathy chuckled. “Alright, alright, let’s save the debates for later. Right now, we need to get that photo. Everyone gather ‘round the trophy.”
As they posed for the picture, Marcus couldn’t help but marvel at how far they’d all come. When Mr. Abernathy had first proposed forming a math team at the beginning of the year, none of them had known each other well. They’d been a mismatched group of misfits, each with their own quirks and insecurities.
Zoe had been painfully shy, barely able to speak above a whisper in group settings. Now, she was confidently chatting with reporters, her earlier social anxiety all but forgotten. Lena, once dismissed as a flighty daydreamer by many of their teachers, had found her passion in the intersection of mathematics and mysticism. Jamal, the perpetual loner, had finally found a group where his love of logic and coding was appreciated rather than mocked.
And Marcus… well, he’d finally found the courage to step out of the shadows and show the world – and his father – what he was truly capable of.
After the photo, as they were gathering their things to leave, Zoe piped up. “Hey, we should celebrate! Anyone up for pizza?”
“Oh man, I’m starving,” Jamal agreed. “All that mental exertion really works up an appetite.”
“Pizza sounds perfect,” Lena chimed in. “As long as we can get it without pineapple. That’s just wrong on so many levels.”
Jamal gasped in mock offense. “Excuse me? Pineapple on pizza is a culinary masterpiece. It’s the perfect balance of sweet and savory.”
“It’s an abomination,” Lena shot back, grinning. “Right, Marcus?”
Marcus held up his hands in surrender. “Oh no, I’m not getting involved in this debate again. Last time it almost came to blows.”
Mr. Abernathy laughed. “How about we get a few different pizzas and everyone can have what they like? My treat, to celebrate your victory.”
As they headed out of the auditorium, still playfully arguing about pizza toppings, Marcus felt a sense of contentment wash over him. He caught Mr. Abernathy’s eye and saw the old teacher smiling knowingly.
“Quite a team you’ve put together, sir,” Marcus said quietly.
Mr. Abernathy nodded. “Indeed. Though I think the team put itself together, in the end. I just provided the opportunity.”
Marcus thought about that as they walked. It was true – they’d all changed each other in subtle ways over the past few months. Zoe’s kindness had helped him open up about his mother’s death. Lena’s unconventional thinking had challenged him to approach problems from new angles. Jamal’s dedication to coding had inspired him to explore the practical applications of the math he loved.
And in return, he’d helped Zoe find her voice, given Lena a sounding board for her wilder theories, and shown Jamal that there was value in teamwork. They’d all grown together, their differences becoming strengths rather than obstacles.
As they piled into Mr. Abernathy’s minivan, the playful bickering about pizza toppings resumed. Marcus leaned back in his seat, a smile playing on his lips. He caught sight of his father in the parking lot, talking on his phone but giving Marcus a thumbs-up when he noticed him looking.
For the first time in a long while, Marcus felt truly optimistic about the future. He had friends who understood him, a mentor who believed in him, and maybe – just maybe – a chance to rebuild his relationship with his father.
The Millbrook Mathletes might have started as a group of misfits, but they’d become something much more. They’d become a family.
As Mr. Abernathy pulled out of the parking lot, Marcus closed his eyes, letting the sounds of his friends’ laughter wash over him. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he knew they’d face them together – one equation at a time.