I can solve those in several different ways.”“Thank you.”“Yessir.” And I turned my book back over.Exiting the classroom after the bell rang,...I usually wait until the rush for the door subsides.“Why are you in my class? Miss Amanda?” he asked.I smiled. “I’m an eighth grade student. This is eighth grade math.”“You find it easy.”“Yessir. I read the book. I know how it ends.” And a wry smile. He’s a nice man doing a tough job.“It’s math. It doesn’t end.”“Oh, you know that in May, school ends and so. I could have sworn I saw a momentary flickering of firelight on the brick wall opposite.I made my way home as quick as I could, and fired up the bong. In a minute, I figured I would call my friend Lucy, but that could wait while I took a hit. Loaded it up, crammed in the herb, and the familiar crackling of the red-hot cherry sent dense clouds up the tube.When I inhaled, it was a headrush like I had never felt before. She hadn’t been kidding. One hell of a rush. “Damn!” I said, falling back. More

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