Chapter 107 Chapter 107
At school, the competitive atmosphere was beginning to suffocate the hallways. Antony Wilson, after extending the math class until the last second, finally put down his chalk.
“Next Saturday we will have the preliminary round of Chemistry. We have five representatives from this class. Don't put too much pressure on yourselves; the competition with the Olympics Class is fierce, there are only five spots in the final. Focus on the entrance exam, think of this as practice.”
As soon as he left, the member of the literary committee approached Katherine's desk, who was immersed in a new stack of comic books.
“Katherine, I heard you're going to participate. How confident are you against the geniuses in Class 1?”
Katherine turned the page of the comic book, her gaze fixed on the colorful drawings. Her voice was a thread of indifference.
“We'll only know when the results come out.”
The girl shrugged, accustomed to her classmate's detachment. “Besides you, we have Jessica, Cauan, Cristiane, and Edwin. Look at them... they're all buried in books, their nerves on edge. You seem to be the only one who doesn't care.”
Katherine adjusted her position in her chair, looking for a more comfortable angle for her reading.
“Yes,” she replied, simply and directly.
While the others tried to memorize formulas, Katherine Lutz seemed to already know the result of the chemical reaction even before the test began.
Storm
“Let me remind you,” began Katarina, the member of the literary committee, with a barely concealed tone of superiority. “Every year, only students from the Competitive Class make it to the finals. Basically, there's no chance for outsiders. You'd better prepare yourselves mentally so you won't be disappointed later.”
“Katarina, have you forgotten the top grade she got in Chemistry on the last monthly test?” interrupted a classmate, discreetly pointing to Katherine.
Katarina raised her eyebrows, letting out a sigh of impatience. “That's different. Regular tests and Olympiad questions are worlds apart.” Class 1 students train daily under extreme pressure; they are on a pedestal for a reason. Just yesterday I heard some of them mocking those who enrolled outside the elite group... they said that the “others” are just there for the audience.
“It's the natural course of things,” her classmate shrugged. “Ordinary students are just there to keep the geniuses company.”
“Enough.”
The male voice, laden with a cutting coldness, interrupted the conversation. It was Cauan. He was sitting next to Katherine, his eyebrows furrowed and a somber expression on a pile of advanced review materials. The weight of his presence instantly silenced the buzz.
Gabriel entered the room at that moment, bringing snacks and a light laugh that broke the ice. “Cauan, I've noticed that you've become the most diligent student since the transfer. What changed?”
Cauan glanced sideways at Katherine, who remained immersed in her comic book as if she were in another dimension.
“We should be finishing this college and thinking about graduate school,” he said with a seriousness that surprised everyone. Gabriel blinked, feeling the weight of those words. “The way you talk makes me feel guilty... It seems like I need to work harder too.”
He turned to Katherine, placing a cold drink on her table with a radiant smile. “Take a sip, Kath. It'll wake you up.”
“No need,” she replied, without even looking up from the comic book.
Before Gabriel could insist, Octavio, who seemed to have been in a deep coma until a second ago, quickly leaned over and confiscated the bottle. He opened it and drank half of it in one gulp.
“Hey, Octavio! That was for her!”
Octavio looked at Gabriel with eyes red from sleep and the hangover from the night before. “You've got some nerve, huh?” he muttered enigmatically.
Gabriel was confused, but Octavio offered no explanation. He had a clear mission from his brother: to intercept any man who tried to approach Katherine Lutz. Gabriel was the number one target. Exhausted, Octavio laid his head back on the table, fulfilling his duty as a silent sentinel.
At the back table, Bruno ignored the chaos. His fingers flew across his cell phone in a tense conversation with Dandara.
Bruno: Dara, can you print out the new review material? We can study together tonight. Dandara: Impossible. My brother is throwing a banquet for Sasha, the perfumer. We all have to go. My parents are inviting your parents too. Bruno:A banquet now? With exams coming up? Dandara: It's not just any dinner, Bruno. It's to show off their prestige. Nísia has developed a special perfume just for tonight and wants to impress Sasha. All the respected elders will be there. I can't wait! Bruno: All right... Let's review tomorrow, then. It's Saturday and I need to get to the Chemistry final. Dandara: Pigs are flying? Bruno, the studious one? Okay, talk to you tomorrow.
Bruno put his cell phone away, but a careless movement of his arm knocked over a test sheet. The paper floated and fell right on Katherine's magazine.
Bruno's face contorted. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to say something, but the words felt like sand in his throat.
Since the incident where he had felt inferior to her, the silence between them was an insurmountable barrier. He looked at her with a mixture of guilt and discomfort. Katherine picked up the sheet of paper with a casual gesture. Her eyes scanned the formulas for a brief moment, one eyebrow arching almost imperceptibly as she noticed an error in Bruno's solution.
However, she said nothing. She just handed the newspaper back to him, in an absolute silence that weighed more than any criticism.
Bruno felt the blood throbbing in his temples. The way Katherine just glanced over his hours of effort and raised her eyebrow left him in a state of suffocating irritability. His breathing became momentarily labored, a mixture of wounded pride and a curiosity he didn't want to admit.
“What do you mean by that look?” He couldn't help himself. The question came out more sharply than he had intended.
Katherine looked away from the comic book with calculated slowness. She lifted the sheet of paper, pointing with the tip of a slender finger to one of the stoichiometric calculation questions.
“The answer to this question is A. All the others you did are correct,” she said, her voice sounding like a solitary, perfect piano note.