The dreaded maths class came.
On one hand, I was scared that my emerging 'perfect girl' image would meet its premature death as soon as I was put on the spot to solve a math equation or something equally terrifying.
It was one thing to impress through sports class, where my body seemed to move on its own, but math? That was probably not something where the physical reflexes of Jenn could help me.
On the other hand… I was intrigued. My body seemed to almost move on its own when a situation presented itself like it had with the football during sports class. Would my brain work the same way? Would I be able to somehow, magically, solve equations without needing to know the process? I mean, how much of Jenn's ability do I have now? Was there some kind of latent genius in her that I had absorbed? Maybe math was just another part of her effortless talent pool, and all I had to do was tap into it. The thought was comforting, but also nerve-wracking.
"Jenn, do you want to give this one a go?"
I knew it. I knew it. It was my first day at school, my first class with this particular maths teacher, and I just knew he was the kind of guy who'd ask a new girl to stand in front of the class and be put under pressure. He probably thrived on moments like this, waiting for someone to stumble so he could savor the feeling of "I thought so".
Moment of truth for me and Jenn now. There was no getting out of this. I nodded in acknowledgment, trying to keep my face neutral, and slowly stood up to move toward the blackboard. As I walked, I could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on me, waiting, expecting. I didn't think anyone really expected me to fail. After all, I was from South East High, one of the top high schools in the entire country. Girls like Jenn were supposed to be smart, composed, and capable of handling anything.
I could practically hear the thoughts running through their heads. "Oh, she's from there? She's got this." No pressure, right? Wrong. The pressure was enormous in my mind.
I remembered how it was when the same thing happened to me as a boy. This math teacher could be sadistic. Back then, I was dumb as fuck, and there was nothing I could solve. Every math problem felt like an impossible riddle designed to break my spirit. I consistently scored the lowest marks in the class for any math exams. But still, this mofo had the nerve to drag me up to the blackboard whenever he felt like it. It was like he enjoyed watching me humiliate myself. Hechan, my old classmate, would lead the chorus of mocking laughter when I inevitably and invariably failed. The memory sent a cold shiver down my spine.
But that was the past. I wasn't that boy anymore. I was Jenn now.
I stood in front of the blackboard, chalk in hand, and looked at the problem. There was absolutely no way I could solve this before. Hell, even now, my bad math was already enough to tell this was a difficult question. What if I really couldn't do this? What if I was still that same dumb kid deep down, just in a prettier shell?
FUCK. Is this the end for me already?
I looked at the problem again closely. I stared at it intently, willing something—anything—to make sense. But the more I looked, the more lost I felt.
Every second that ticked away was pegging my credibility a notch. The longer I stood there, frozen, the more cracks began to show in my "perfect girl" image. The whole class was silent, waiting for something—anything—from me. I think about ten seconds passed, but it felt like an eternity.
"Well?" the math teacher finally asked, his voice dripping with smugness. He didn't even try to hide the glee in his tone. He was enjoying this far too much, just like he had with me before. I could almost see the triumphant smirk at the corners of his mouth.
And then, out of nowhere, the answer popped into my head.
"It's 15cos30," I blurted out before I could even process what came up in my mind.
"What?" The teacher blinked, clearly caught off guard.
"15cos30," I repeated - my voice a little more steady this time.
"You just solved that in your head?"
DAMN RIGHT I DID. THANK YOU, JENN. (But seriously, where did that come from?!)
"Er… yes?"
The teacher stared at me for a moment, He clearly couldn't wrap his head around how I solved this in my head.
"Ok… I wasn't expecting that. But well done. You can go back to your seat now."
I turned and started walking back to my seat, trying to act casual, but I could feel the adrenaline pumping through me. Someone whistled from the back of the room, and the teacher quickly shut them down with a sharp glare. However, I sensed that the teacher wasn't unhappy. If I had done this as my previous self, he would have been disappointed that he lost his chance to mock me. He loved watching me flail back then (not that I could ever do it, but that's beside the point…).
As Jenn, though, when I got it right, there was a sense of acknowledgment and even a little respect in his eyes. He didn't suspect any foul play and didn't challenge me to write out how I had solved it. He just accepted it as it was.
I realized then that being Jenn wasn't just about being attractive or good at sports or studies. People see me differently now.
But nobody can see through me.