4. Either Way, I’m In #3
If I’m less lucky? I forgot to pay a bill, or worse, I bounced a check.
Despite the shock of the cold water, I’m asleep within minutes of getting to the couch, my mind a swirl of overdue notices, to-do lists, and homemade granola.
I wake at three in the morning to blessed silence and make my rounds.
Harper’s fever is gone, and Wren is cuddled against her.
At some point, I’ll need to get them their own beds.
When we first moved in, all four of us had crammed in here: I slept with Harper, leaving Wren with Aurora, but since I’m normally on campus, Aurora’s been promoted to her own bed, leaving me the couch when I visit.
Which is too often, given my work and study schedule.
But also, unavoidable.
When I peek into her bedroom, my mother is awake but watching C-dramas on her phone.
“You home for the weekend?” She doesn’t look at me as she asks this, and I can see the way her eyes travel across her phone as she follows the actors’ movements, more invested in the fantasy world than her real one.
“I thought I’d help out while Harper’s recovering.”
My mother’s mouth tightens and she looks up finally, her eyes dark-rimmed and baggy in a way that’s almost painful to see.
The younger girls don’t remember it, but our mother was once quite the beauty.
During their happier times, she and my father would be photographed at functions, and I always marveled at how well put together she was, how gracefully she presented herself.
Now her voice is scratchy, her eyes half drooping as she reminds me, “We wouldn’t need your help if your father was still around. ”
“He wasn’t consistently around even before.
” It’s my old defense, but not a particularly good one.
Before I pissed him off, we lived in a lovely house, and Aurora and I even attended private schools.
It’s because of my big, unthinking mouth, because of the temper I failed to rein in, that we’re in this situation.
“You were and still remain his favorite, meaning your behavior has the greatest influence.”
“I have apologized.” And apologized, and apologized. I swallow past the small constriction in my throat. “And he is sending money again. Usually.”
“He’d send more if you behaved better.”
We’ve had this argument so many times there’s simply nothing left to say.
My entire childhood, I watched my mother bow to my father, watched the way he demeaned and berated her inability to produce a son.
And while it’s true that I’ve always been his favorite, that was always a double-edged sword.
He liked my attitude and my fire, but when I finally, finally stood up to him?
We lost everything.
“I am trying,” I say finally, but my mother’s attention is already back on her phone screen.
I close her door quietly and head back to the couch, opening my laptop because I need something to distract myself with.
I start by taking a deeper look at Xinzhe, and (now that I tell myself there’s a choice) I realize that despite Xinzhe’s previous awards and documented practice streaks, he’s clearly plateaued.
He’s doing enough problems to maintain his online rating but hasn’t shown actual improvement in . . . a while.
Next, I use Brody’s Discord to look up his GitHub, and damn if Lucas isn’t right about Mr. Bro Dude.
Though Brody’s clearly not a computer science major, the guy has experience creating visualizations, knows far more languages than the average programmer, and his repository is full of independent projects that range from downloading/analyzing YouTube comments (good luck trying to get through parent Alphabet/Google’s restrictions, but props for trying) to simulating the motion of fabric through Verlet integration.
This is a guy who explores things because they’re fun.
He’s the kind of wild card who adds breadth and creativity that would perfectly balance more traditional programmers like me and Lucas.
It’s almost four in the morning, but I text Lucas: I looked up Brody and Xinzhe.
I wouldn’t say no to Xinzhe, but you’re right about Brody.
I take a deep breath before texting the next part: Either way, I’m in.
I don’t expect a reply, but a few seconds later Lucas gives me a thumbs-up.
We’ll still most likely be labeled as Team B.
It’s not where I wanted to be, but it’s leaps and bounds better than the alternative.
We’ll have a little less than two months to figure out how to beat not only Caltech’s bronze-winning Arjun, but also UCLA, USC, and maybe even UC Santa Barbara or UC Irvine.
Harvey Mudd, small as they are, is also sometimes a contender.
We’ll need to be in the top four to advance to nationals, where the real money begins.
But Lucas is scary good. Brody is clearly an outlier in terms of creativity, and me? I might not have their brainpower or finesse, but I’m the master of brute force and persistence.
I look at the clock. It’s a quarter past four and I’m wide awake, meaning it’s time to get to work.