The Rithmatist Read Online Free PDF

Your lives will never be the same again!”
    If only they’d let Joel into a higher-level class. But the higher-level classes were all on the Rithmatic campus. Off-limits to general students.
    Hence the letter to Fitch, which Joel still carried in his pocket. He glanced at it as Professor Layton wrote some more formulas on the chalkboard. None of those formulas came to life, moved about, or did anything else unusual. Layton was no Rithmatist. To him, and to Joel—and to most everyone alive—the board was just a board, and chalk just another writing utensil.
    “Wow,” Layton said, surveying his list of formulas. “Did I mention how incredible those are?”
    Someone in the class groaned. Layton turned, smiling to himself. “Well, I suppose you’re all waiting for summer electives. Can’t say that I blame you. Still, you’re mine for today, so everyone get out your notebooks so I can check off last night’s assignment.”
    Joel blinked, then felt a stab of alarm. Last night’s assignment. His mother had even asked him if he’d had one. He had promised he’d do it. Yet he’d put it off, telling himself that he’d work on it later … during his free period.
    Instead he’d gone to watch Fitch.
    Oh no …
    Layton moved through the class, glancing at each student’s notebook. Joel slowly pulled out his own notebook and opened it to the right page. Ten unworked problems lay there. Undone, ignored. Layton stepped up to Joel’s desk.
    “Again, Joel?” Layton asked, sighing.
    Joel glanced down.
    “See me after class,” Layton said, moving on.
    Joel sank down in his seat. Only two more days. He just had to survive two more days and pass his class. He’d meant to get to the assignment; he really had. He just … well, hadn’t.
    It shouldn’t matter. Layton put a lot of emphasis on tests, and Joel had achieved a perfect score on every single one. One more missed assignment wouldn’t mean much for his grade.
    Layton moved up to the front of the room. “All right, well, we’ve got ten minutes left. What to do … Let’s work some practice problems!”
    This time he got more than a few groans.
    “Or,” Layton said, “I suppose I could let you go early, since this is the last period of the day, and summer is right around the corner.”
    Students who had spent the entire period staring at the walls suddenly became alert.
    “Very well, go,” Layton said, waving.
    They were gone in a matter of seconds. Joel remained seated, going through excuses in his head. Through the cramped window, he could see other students moving on the green outside. Most classes were finished with end-of-term tests, and things were winding down. Joel himself only had the one test left, in history. It wouldn’t prove much of a problem—he’d actually studied for it.
    Joel stood and walked to Professor Layton’s desk, carrying his notebook.
    “Joel, Joel,” Layton said, expression grim. “What am I to do with you?”
    “Pass me?” Joel asked.
    Layton was silent.
    “Professor,” Joel said. “I know I haven’t been the best with my assignments—”
    “By my count, Joel,” Professor Layton interrupted, “you’ve done nine of them. Nine out of forty .”
    Nine? Joel thought. I have to have done more than that.… He thought back, considering the term’s work. Math had always been his easiest subject. He’d given very little concern for it.
    “Well,” Joel said. “I guess, maybe, I was a little too lazy.…”
    “You think?” Layton said.
    “But, my test scores,” Joel said quickly. “I’ve gotten perfect marks.”
    “Well, first off,” Layton said. “School isn’t just about tests. Graduation from Armedius is an important, prestigious achievement. It says that a student knows how to study and follow instructions. I’m not just teaching you math, I’m teaching you life skills. How can I pass someone who never does their work?”
    It was one of Layton’s favorite lectures. Actually, Joel’s experience was