“Sarah, are you okay?” Mr. Davenport stopped her at the doorway, trig textbook in hand. “You didn’t answer questions eleven through fifteen on your quiz last Monday. I hope you didn’t skip over answers on this week’s quiz.”
“I didn’t feel very good.” Her chest had grown tight that day. The numbers blurred in front of her face, little animated Star Wars figures chasing each other round and round the page.
“The math-bowl is next week, and we need you at your best. We wouldn’t want to miss our chance for a fourth state-championship. We’re counting on you for another win.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be ready.” She shuffled her backpack and pushed past him toward English.
What if she wasn’t ready? What if all she saw were more Star Wars figures? The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Think about it later, not now.