Chapter 10 : After
By the time the last name got called, the board had settled into its final shape.
Thirty names locked in above a cutoff line that meant something to the coordinator even if he hadn't explained what yet. At the very top, six numbers sat well past a hundred, a small cluster set apart from everyone else the way a lit window stands out in a dark street.
Lukas Hoffmann. One hundred and ninety. Kasia Nowak. One hundred seventy-two. Daniel Reyes. One hundred sixty-five. Matteo Ricci. One hundred fifty-eight. Sophie Lambert. One hundred fifty-one. Camille Dubois. One hundred forty-five.
Then, seventh and eighth, close enough together that they might as well have been posted as a pair.
Arthur Walker. One hundred forty. Rose Walker. One hundred thirty-two.
Arthur read his own name twice before it settled properly. Seventh. Not first, not close to first, sitting comfortably behind five people he'd exchanged maybe a dozen words with combined across his entire life. It should have felt like nothing next to the number it should have been. It felt, oddly, like being handed a prize with someone else's name half scratched into it.
Arthur recognized more of the other names than he expected.
Marcus, a handful of spots below Rose, which she pointed out with a flat, unimpressed stare that did nothing to improve her opinion of him.
The coordinator started reading through the final list one name at a time, slower now than he'd been all morning, as if the sheer number of them had finally caught up with him.
Beside Arthur, Daniel slouched down in his seat, still occasionally glancing at his own name on the board like he expected it to vanish if he looked away too long.
"You didn't beat me by a mile, this time," Daniel said. No real attachement in it, the way he said most things, like the universe owed him nothing and he'd mostly stopped expecting it to. "But apparently I beat basically everyone. New personality unlocked."
"You looked shaken up there."
"Shaken? I was having a moment." The grin came easy, already leaning into the story like it was the best thing that had happened to him all week. "You know my grandmother used to tell this insane story about her father? Guy apparently ran outside during storms, arms up, yelling at the sky like it owed him money. Family legend. We used to bring it up at dinner just to watch my mom groan."
"And?"
"And nothing, that's the best part. Number goes flying up on that screen and my brain just goes, oh, guess crazy grandpa was onto something." Daniel spread his hands. "Which is insane. I refuse to believe that man had any idea what he was doing. He probably just liked storms."
"That's your theory.Your lightning affinity, explained by a guy yelling at clouds."
"It's a great theory. Mystery, drama, a guy yelling at clouds. It's got everything." He leaned back, hands behind his head. "Anyway. I'm choosing to enjoy this instead of interrogating it. High talent, apparently, whatever that actually means. Feels good to say out loud."
Arthur huffed something close to a laugh despite himself.
"You'll figure it out."
"Obviously. I'm delightful and apparently above average now. What could go wrong."
Arthur almost smiled. Almost.
"My mom cried when they read my name off that list," Daniel added, quieter, some of the performance dropping out of his voice for the first time all morning. "Not because it's good news necessarily. Because it's news at all, you know? First time in a while she's had something that wasn't a bill to look excited about."
Arthur didn't have anything clever to say to that. He just nodded, and let the silence sit for a second instead of filling it.
Rose returned from wherever she'd drifted off to, dropping back into the seat on Arthur's other side with the energy of someone who'd just escaped an unwanted conversation.
"Are we mocking Marcus? I want in."
"Not yet," Daniel said. "But the night is young."
She didn't get the chance to ask what he meant, because Marcus himself appeared at the end of the row a moment later. He hovered there with the particular awkwardness of someone who'd rehearsed an opening line and forgotten it under pressure.
"Hey. Rose. Congrats. On the, uh. The number thing."
Rose looked up at him with an expression that managed to be polite and completely unimpressed at once.
"Thanks, Marcus."
"We're both on the list now. Kind of funny, right? Might end up in the same program." He said it like it was a clever observation instead of the most obvious thing in the room, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"Might," Rose said, and offered nothing else.
It took him a visible few seconds to process that as a full stop rather than an opening.
"Cool. Cool cool cool." He glanced at Arthur, registered the look on his face, and visibly reconsidered whatever he'd been about to say next. "I'll, uh. See you around, then."
He retreated with the speed of someone who knew exactly how that had gone.
Daniel watched him go, delighted. "He's going to be insufferable about this for weeks."
"He's already insufferable," Rose said.
"Fair point." Daniel tipped his head back. "You think he practices those lines in the mirror?"
"I think he practices them on the walk over and forgets half of it by the time he arrives," Arthur said.
"That tracks. Poor guy peaked at 'kind of funny, right.'"
Rose snorted. Across the aisle, a few rows down, Chiara Moretti had already cornered Lukas, notebook out, asking him something with the focused intensity of someone building a spreadsheet in real time. Lukas answered in short, unbothered sentences, clearly used to being asked things and equally used to not caring whether the asker walked away satisfied.
Kasia stood near them, arms crossed, listening more than talking. Filing away whatever she overheard, the same way Arthur had spent the whole morning doing.
The coordinator called the room back to order before anyone could say anything else.
The thirty names on the board would be contacted individually about next steps. Everyone else should watch for information through their schools.
A murmur of disappointment moved through the rows that hadn't made the cut, quickly swallowed by the general exhaustion of a crowd that had been sitting on folding chairs for two hours.
Near the middle of the gymnasium, a parent asked loudly what would happen to kids who scored well but didn't want to participate in whatever came next. The coordinator gave an answer vague enough to satisfy no one, something about further guidance through official channels, and moved on before anyone could press him.
Chairs scraped against the floor in a ragged wave as people stood, gathering bags and jackets, the assembly finally loosening its grip on the room.
Daniel stretched, joints popping loud enough that Rose made a face.
"That's disgusting."
"That's a growing boy with an apparently elevated talent tier. Show some respect."
"I will show you a swift kick if you keep talking like that."
"See, this is the gratitude I get."
Arthur watched the two of them a moment. Some of the tightness from earlier eased out of his shoulders without his permission.
Whatever the board said, whatever number sat next to his name, this part at least hadn't changed. Daniel being ridiculous. Rose pretending not to enjoy it. The three of them holding the same small patch of chaos they always did, regardless of what the rest of the room made of any of them.
He looked at the board one more time before standing. Thirty names above a line he hadn't asked to be measured against. His own sitting well below where it should have been, and no good way yet to explain why without saying more than he was ready to.