Advance Reading Copy
1 After math class, I end up with my face planted in Rozelle’s chest. I don’t know how it happens. One moment I’m shuffling between the desks, eager to get to my locker and escape. Head down, black high-tops scuffing the floor, binders tucked under one arm. Math class always leaves me feeling stupid. “You’ll know the answer to this problem, Calvin,” my math teacher, Mr. Marnello, always says. As if I must be good at math because I’m half Asian. I glance across the classroom to see Mr. Marnello gazing after me, shaking his head. His glasses slip down his nose and his eyes are still quizzing me over the rims. 1