“Pshh.” My scoff slips out as I laugh silently to myself and lean forward on my elbows. Hollis’s knee stops gyrating, so I quirk a brow and give her a glance.
“What’s funny?” she whispers.
My mouth begins its slow curve because suddenly, so many things amuse me. My tongue pokes out over my bottom lip and I lock it down with my teeth, nodding.
“Just ready for today.” My grin is lopsided and arrogant, and Hollis’s brow dips as she studies me, as if looking for the loophole.
“Better be,” she says, her knee returning to its constant tapping out of Morse code.
We must have made enough noise to catch Dr. V’s attention because he abruptly stops talking. His posture is pretty ready for conflict with his hands clasped in front of his body and his shoulders rolled back, chest puffed and chin high. He’s looking at us through his lenses now—they’ve moved from the tip of his nose to the bridge.
“Mister . . .” He muses for a moment, leaning to the right to check my name on the tablet that shows the seating chart. “Jennings. Right. I made a note by your name. Athlete, I see. You’ll be needing to stay eligible for the season. Let me guess, do you two play doubles tennis?”
He waggles his finger between Hollis and me. I shift in my desk, feeling the rush of blood travel down my neck and spine. I don’t like being made an example of, and Mr. V is officially out of the running for favorite teacher.
“We play baseball, sir.” Hollis speaks up. I wince because of the way she says it, so sure of herself. Her knee has stopped moving again, and her hands are clasped on top of her notebook, mimicking Mr. V’s in a way. A confident smile plays at her lips, and while she seems to grow taller in her seat, I find I’m shrinking in mine.
“Oh, that’s . . . progressive. I didn’t know we had a girl on the team,” he says, engaging and leaning one elbow on his podium.
“We don’t, yet,” I blurt out. It’s my temper—a knee-jerk reaction when I’m embarrassed.
“We will,” Hollis pipes in, turning to face me with the smug mask tightly pressed to her face. She blinks slowly and I shift again in my seat as I make eye contact with her. I hate that I don’t fit in these things, my legs too long to completely bend my knees under the tabletop, and my body too tall to rest my arms comfortably on the desk. I look like a monster breaking out of a cage. I’m not sure how Hollis fits so easily. Girls are just flexible I guess.
“Interesting,” Mr. V says, actually running his palm over his beard while evil ideas appear to swirl in his head. “You two are perfect for my first statistics question. Let’s give it a try, shall we?”
His question lingers in our silent classroom while nobody steps in. I finally shake my head and say, “Sure.”
“Great. Here’s the data set.”
He quickly pushes the screen to the side, exposing a whiteboard underneath. He takes a red marker to the board to write with the same fervor Hollis just did, explaining the details as he writes. Hollis doesn’t seem to be taking notes, and I wonder if the attention is chipping away at her brave face.
“First, we have you, Mr. Jennings,” he says, drawing the male symbol on the board. “And over here, we have Miss—”
“Just call me Hollis,” she interjects.
Her boldness earns a smile that barely breaks through the beard.
“Hollis it is,” he says, drawing the female symbol on the other side. He next writes the number fifty on the board between our names, tapping his marker against the number a few times to punctuate it before turning to face us.
“There is one spot open on the baseball team, and both Hollis and Mr. Jennings are trying to take it.”
He takes out a coin.
“Let’s assign heads to you Hollis, and Mr. Jennings, you’re tails.” He dips his head, peering over his glasses, waiting for us to agree. We both nod. I have no idea where this is going.
Flipping the coin in the air, he waits with an open mouth, eyes eager to see how it lands in his hand before flipping it against his forearm.
“One of you will make the team, and one of you will not. Based on this coin, would you say there is a fifty-percent chance it will be you?”
I shrug and nod as Hollis does the same. Mr. V peels back his fingers to expose the coin, walking through the desks to stand between us so we can verify the coin. It’s tails. I smile as if I actually did something to earn the win.
“Congratulations, you’ve made the team. Hollis, I am sorry,” he says, leaning to her side. Taking this entire scene in stride, Hollis snaps her fingers in front of her, a gesture that says, “Darn.” One side of his mouth lifts with his short laugh.
“Ah, but wait. You know what? Let’s do this again. And for fun, let’s put some theory behind it. What are the chances I will land on tails again?” Pinching the coin between his thumb and finger, he twists it around in front of us so we can see both sides. “Mr. Jennings, what are your chances now? Can I land this on tails again?”
I stare in thought at the coin, not
