It was just another ordinary day at Ridgeview Middle School as Ari navigated the narrow, lively hallways filled with chatter and laughter echoing off the walls. The cold lights flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow as he approached a blue locker, which nearly burst at the seams with his things. With a resigned sigh, he wrenched the heavy metal door open, scouring through the clutter, his fingers brushing against the rough edges of loose sheets filled with half-finished notes and colorful scribbles. After Ari slammed the locker door shut, he shrieked in terror, startled by a familiar sight he hadn't expected so near the end of the day.
"I didn't know you were so smart," said Zoie, cradling a stack of books as she smiled with luminous eyes.
Ari reached deep into his pockets and, after finding a paperclip, twisted and coiled its wiry metal with the nervous vigor he hid from sight. Just as usual, the girl he was enamored with reappeared before him, silently as ever. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing, quietly staring into the ground and hoping she would disappear with all the anxiety she brought.
"I heard they're putting you on the honor roll," said Zoie. "Everyone's talking about it."
She must have caught wind of his success in his other classes. Nothing else could explain what she meant by her words or why she'd decided to approach him among all the other boys. But Ari wasn't one for glorying, let alone attention. Each day of school was little more than a sequence of moments to get through, and every moment that brought uncertainty was something to be eluded by all means.
"I have to go," he said, nearly vanishing into the commotion behind the two.
He was headed for his next class when he felt her gentle hand graze his arm, and he turned to face her again. The way she looked at him was different than the others. It was as if she could see who he really was, separate from vanity or eminence, apart from the whimsical lens the other children shared, framed in her own making that left no room for flagrant rumors. Maybe she, too, was different on the inside where no one could see. Perhaps she understood what it was like to be Ari more than anyone else, and if he opened his mind to the possibilities, maybe he would find out.
"A bunch of us are going to the movies this weekend. You're welcome to join if you want."
When Ari looked up, he discerned a group of other kids standing tightly together in the distance, watching for his reaction. They were Zoie's friends, and if he hadn't been so surprised that she was inviting a nobody like him to a gathering outside of school, he would have been intrigued that the popular kids wanted anything to do with him.
"I'll think about it," said Ari, fastening his glasses before evading her promptly.
Ari walked through the door of his History class, and the room was loud, teeming with unruly students who behaved as though their teacher didn't exist. Mr. Ellington was busy working at his desk, seemingly unfazed by the disorder of the classroom, when out of nowhere, he rose to his feet, silencing the room at once. He flew towards the front of the class and headed straight for the whiteboard, where he began inscribing large letters that stirred trepidation once the students became aware of what he was writing.
Pop Quiz read the terrifying message.
The two most dreaded words at Ridgeview Middle School were now staring dozens of students in the face. The room suddenly erupted into boisterous chaos because it meant they would be sentenced to another test they weren't the least bit prepared for—the worst kind.
But Ari wasn't overcome by the same anxiety the others experienced. A new pattern of engagement in his schoolwork bolstered his confidence, each day a fresh revelation of possibilities. Instead of fretting, he was eager, dully deciding to investigate what surprises were in store. He placed his hand at the corner of his desk, and it brightened as a digital screen full of questions meant to test each student at a moment's notice.
But with a steadfast gaze, once he comprehended what he saw, his heart sank when he discovered that none of the questions had been remotely addressed in class. In fact, each question was so far from what he understood to be the school's assigned curriculum that he wondered if the purpose of this test was something less than customary.
The questions varied from political developments during Europe's industrial era to ancient Chinese wars. They were complex inquiries, central to topics that no 12-year-old would have any conventional way of knowing. Still, as he began reading through the quiz, he could see in his peripheral vision that the other kids in the room started carefully working through the challenging series of questions as they wrote out their best guesses.
Taken entirely by surprise, Ari understood the teacher's intentions to be nefarious, a move to get him to fail. Although he wanted no involvement with what appeared to be a weaponized test, he had no choice but to get started. He would've rather objected to the abomination, but it wouldn't have been to anyone's benefit. Instead, he tried to focus on the questions at hand, casting aside the distressing effects of a teacher who aimed to punish him for something he didn't do.
Ari could feel his heartbeat rhythmically echoing in his ear. His chest tightened as a mix of apprehension and a resolve counterbalanced within. He slowly treaded through the quiz, but after guessing the answer to many questions, the rattling thought that the teacher was singling him out at everyone else's expense burdened his efforts.
It was more formidable to set aside his growing fury than to make it through. As he stared at the vein words that spanned across his desk, he could see his teacher threateningly glimpsing his direction out of the corner of his eye. Ellington was subtly paying careful attention to Ari, who was advancing much slower than those around him. After some time, he'd only completed a small handful of questions. He cautiously gazed around, and it was as if everyone else had quadrupled him in pace.
After half of the class was over, only part of his exam was complete. A few moments passed, and suddenly, only 10 minutes of class were left. One by one, the room began emptying of each student who'd finished their quiz. With only minutes to spare, the classroom subsequently became a space occupied by only himself and the teacher, whose intimidating smirk had doubled in size.
Finally, the teacher thought to himself, exchanging prudent glances with a tiny camera at the corner of the room, the same one in every class. It was retribution for a man who sought to prove to himself that Ari had been cheating all along. For no other reason could a boy as ordinary as him perform so well in his studies after a lengthy history of ambivalence and uninspiring engagement.
But it wasn't just a moment meant for personal assurance. On the other end of the discreetly placed camera was a room full of faculty members observing carefully, scrutinizing Ari's every move through a live video feed. A host of teachers who were deeply concerned by Ellington's assertion that Ari could not have completed such profound work on his own.
"5 minutes left, Ari," said the teacher, creeping closer and closer until he was hovering directly over him to confirm what he already knew to be true.
"You're almost out of time, son. Just make your best guess while you have the chance."
Ari looked up to the teacher, feeling the tight grip of anguish that caused his face to flush amid the one-on-one confrontation, forcing him to work through the questions before his adversary. Time was running out, and as panic fueled an aching vexation, he started to feel the onset of another headache, one he brushed aside quickly.
He sealed his eyes shut, wishing he could escape the overwhelming moment. He drew a deep breath to soothe himself and thoughtfully concluded that he would not be made a fool of. Instead of allowing fear to govern his actions, he would channel his exasperation into productivity and complete the quiz as quickly as he could to the best of his ability, regardless of the outcome.
Suddenly, something inside Ari transformed, and when he cracked open his eyes, his pen began scribbling away at a remarkable pace, answering every question as if his hand had a mind of its own. He was fast—very fast, in fact—and after finishing each one, he paved through the next even quicker.
It took Ari 4 minutes to complete nearly half the test before the bell rang, and the teacher couldn't hide his surprise. He cradled a hand over his mouth in shock at what he'd just witnessed. He leaned in closer, reviewing Ari's answers, because he couldn't possibly postpone uncovering the outcome of such a coveted moment he had waited too long for.
To his amazement, every single answer was correct.
Ari stared at his teacher, who was peering back at him, astounded at what he could accomplish at a moment's notice and without help. Meanwhile, in a distant room, a growing crowd of teachers observed the unfolding scene with awe as Ari proved his teacher wrong without even knowing he was being watched.
"How is he doing that?" Questioned one of them, a faculty head surrounded by several others, all mirroring the same baffled expression yards away from the classroom.
Everyone sat in surprise as Ari effortlessly completed the impossible challenge they had conspired against him. When he was finished, Ari swiftly gathered his belongings and exited the room as if nothing unusual had just happened. Unwittingly, he left behind a perplexed history teacher who was visibly displeased at being proven wrong, secretly in front of a massive audience.
Although he didn't know it, Ari's ordinary day was shaping into something extraordinary.
When he returned home, his mother was arranging dinner while his dad was leisurely seated in front of the TV, cheering loudly at a football game before flashing him a broad set of teeth. While Ari again resigned himself to his bedroom for the next few hours, Hannah received an unforeseen call from the school. It was the principal on the line, offering a heartfelt apology for the faculty's unfounded allegations that Ari was cheating on his exams and assignments. He explained that after a thorough review, the school's most esteemed teachers had recommended him for enrollment in their advanced placement program. By the end of the call, he was unabashedly pressuring Hannah to consider their offer, imploring a mother still struggling to accept what she was hearing.
A moment later, Ari stepped into the room, innocent and beaming, as his mom thought up excuses to get the principal off the phone. While he was catapulting as many flattering comments as it would take to persuade her of his offering, Hannah watched with bewilderment and confusion as Ari absentmindedly poured a stream of milk into a bowl of cereal, going on about his day as if everything were unquestionably normal. Her 12-year-old son's display of remarkable intelligence left her utterly confounded. Rather than indulge in pride, she was drowning in an ocean of mystery and reverence.
As the night drew to a close, Hannah confided in her husband, asking for his objective opinion when what she really wanted was for him to agree with hers. She expressed her belief that they may have overlooked his capabilities, discounting the possibility that their son was truly gifted all along. But it still didn't explain how they could've missed something so paramount, one of many crucial concerns for Hannah. Jordan swept aside those concerns, citing a more simplistic, rational answer to the puzzling events that gave her strife.
"Maybe we didn't push him hard enough?"
"Maybe he wasn't applying himself?"
"Maybe we pushed him too hard?"
Each of his theories made sense, but none fully met the gravity of the substantial situation from Hannah's perspective. To her, such a simple explanation did not alleviate her misgivings of a larger conspiracy at play. Little did they know, as they discussed their son's sudden success, Ari peered outside his frosty bedroom window, watching attentively as the same white van parked beside his home. That was the moment a spark of acknowledgment flooded him at once. He had seen the van before, not just in his neighborhood but somewhere else, too. It was one of many that sat dormant in a parking lot all too familiar and not far from where he lived.
It belonged to the medical institution that saved his life.
It belonged to Nuvo.