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as he slowly uncurled the test. He could see a lot of red marks. The last little bit remained hidden until he finally peeked. His stomach felt sick: 48% . An F . He stuffed it into his folder so no one else would see.
    Mrs. Reynolds went over polynomials then assigned homework and gave time to work on it and ask questions. Hector spent the time wondering why math was so full of strange names, and why they had to learn them when none of it served any useful purpose in life. Just busy work to keep students occupied during the day. Finally, his thoughts drifted to something that did matter – how to bring Mal-X down. And get Vera back. By the time the period ended, he had the beginnings of a plan. A plan he could start on tonight. Hector packed his books and followed Deion out to tell him about it.
    He’d just hailed Deion when Mrs. Reynold’s called him to her desk. Hector stopped with a groan and whispered a swear word.
    Deion looked at him too gravely. “I’ll wait for you, man,” he said. “If you’re not out in five minutes I’ll –”
    “Air strike,” Hector grumbled. “Napalm the whole school.”
    “I was thinking more along the lines of SEAL Team Six.”
    “Works, too,” Hector replied and went to meet his doom in the form of an algebra teacher seated behind her desk with her grade book open. “Yes ma’am,” he said, standing before her, trying to make out the cryptic characters from upside down.
    She tapped a gnarled finger on a large red number, then looked up and peered at him over the rim of her glasses. “Hector, as of this test you are failing my class.” Hector gulped hard. He’d never flunked anything – not even close. It wasn’t a good feeling. “If this continues, you will repeat the grade. I know you’ve had a difficult year, but…”
    Hector stopped listening as his body tightened. Difficult year. What did she know about him? Nothing. The last thing Hector needed was someone else’s misguided sympathy, especially over meaningless math problems.
    “I want you to go home and correct the test, and I’d like your mother to sign it.”
    Hector nodded woodenly, feeling particularly hollow inside. “Yes ma’am.”
    “I also noticed you didn’t turn in last night’s homework. Did you understand it?” Hector shrugged and looked away as Mrs. Reynolds sighed heavily. “I’m going to give you one chance, Hector. I want this test corrected, and all your homework, in my hands on Monday. All signed by your mother. Do you understand?”
    Hector nodded again, but had nothing to say. He couldn’t move because his legs were wobbly. He was flunking. Flunking! And he had to tell his mom.

Ch. 4

     
     
    The walk home felt like swimming through sludge. The perfect, sprawling neighborhood with its too-big houses, and too-small lawns mocked Hector’s life. It didn’t matter how much of the money from his dad’s life insurance policy they’d spent, nothing in Hector’s life was perfect. Nothing in anyone’s life was. Look at Pappous. Hector’s family had moved here to be close to his grandparents – just a few blocks away. But not long after moving in, his grandmother had dropped dead out in her garden. Now only Pappous was left, and had nothing to do but fiddle around in their house. No reason for him to stay in his own, even though he refused to just move in with them.
    Hector tried to be patient and sympathetic with his grandfather, but it was hard. The old geezer insisted on telling stories, over and over again, mostly from World War II when he was a boy living in Greece. He made a big deal of them, like they were supposed to mean something, but they didn’t. And they were boring. No guns or explosions or anything. Just people. Besides, World War II was a long time ago, and no one hated the Germans anymore. Hector hoped he wouldn’t be there today. His mom would be bad enough. He didn’t need Pappous and his meaningless stories on top of everything else that was going on.
    “Big