QUINN
I let my head flop to the table. I had redone the same problem six times in the past three hours, each time getting a different result. When our teacher said this would be the most challenging class we had ever taken, I didn’t take him seriously enough. I should have known when all the homework problems came with answers.
“Doing okay in there, Quinny?” my dad called from the living room. It was well past dinner, and my mom was already in bed.
“No,” I groaned.
“Surely you have gotten through some of that homework by now. You’ve been working for like five hours,” he said, turning around a little. I lifted my head and gave him a tight smile.
“I’ll figure it out,” I sighed.
“Okay, well, it’s about bedtime. The mechanic called before dinner; your car will be ready on Friday. Ma
