The judges each murmur to their assigned kid, and the contestants all reply “Yes” to whatever they said. Each adult holds up a stopwatch, and I hear the beeps of the timers being started as the judges lift the buckets off the tables.
Under each is a Rubik’s Cube, only it’s not a cube, it’s a pyramid. I’m still puzzling over why it looks like that when each kid grabs their pyramid and begins turning it over in theirhands, their faces as determined and concentrated as I’ve seen in any athlete.
After a few seconds, they all put the pyramids down on the tables and place their hands in front of them. As they do, the timer device in front of each of them sets to “00:00”. A nanosecond later, each kid is spinning and flipping their pyramid, tossing it down and putting their hands back in front of them once they’ve solved it. This appears to stop the timers. The judges jot something down on their clipboards and hand the clipboards and pens to the contestants, who each glance at their paper, write something down, and hand it back to the judge.
The entire thing took less than a minute.
Holy shit, that was fast. Even the kid who took nearly thirty seconds to solve it.
As someone who is completely incapable of solving even a normal Rubik’s Cube, I’m impressed. Not only did they solve it, but they did itfast. I’ve never seen anyone’s fingers move that quick.
Karen collects the papers and sorts through them, then hands them to Mr. Kellan before disappearing backstage and reappearing with the blue bin that I now know is full of cubes—er, pyramids. The judges scoop new pyramid-cubes out of it as Mr. Kellan announces who is advancing to the next round. Those whose names aren’t called exit, their expressions ranging from disappointed to angry to completely devoid of emotion. A couple minutes later, all of the cubes have been solved just as lightning-fast as the first time, and Mr. Kellan is announcing the winners of round two, the kids who will move on to Nationals.
I note the names of the winners and how they each placed as they tromp off the stage, looking pleased with themselves.
The next phase of the competition uses a different type of cube, one that looks more like if a ball had flat sides. It looks more difficult than the pyramid one did, but now that Iknow what to expect, my eyes dart around the auditorium to assess how the other attendees are reacting to what’s happening onstage.
The adults in the crowd are glancing between the stage and the kids sitting around them. These kids must be the siblings, and they’re definitely not paying any attention, mostly playing on computer tablets.
I kind of feel bad for the competitors. They’re doing this impressive thing, and nobody really cares.
After a couple more events, though, I begin to understand why even the families are zoning out a bit. Watching kids solve these weird not-cubes isn’t exactly riveting entertainment outside of the handful of seconds that their fingers are flying over the puzzle.
My own attention begins to wander a bit, and I notice a group of four guys sitting in the back of the auditorium on the far side from me. I wonder what they’re doing here. They look about my age, so they can’t have any kids in the competition. All but one of them are in T-shirts with their feet resting on the seat backs in front of them as if they’re super comfortable in this type of venue. The fourth guy is in a dark button-up and sitting up perfectly straight. Maybe they’re the older brothers of some of the competitors?
I can’t get a good look from this far away, but they’re kind of cute from what I can tell. And I can’t resist checking them out. I’m only human.
I must have been staring, because one of them catches my eye, then swats the guy next to him and nods in my direction.
My head snaps back to the stage so fast I’ll probably have whiplash. I’m supposed to be here in a professional capacity, not checking out hot guys. But I’ve been working so much lately, taking a full load of credits and putting in extra hours beyond what’s required at theTribunefor my internship. I decide I’mallowed a moment of weakness to acknowledge a group of attractive men.
If I had met them at a party, I might have tossed them a wink or a wave in hopes that one of them would cross the room to talk to me. Not that I go to parties very often. That’s more Ronnie’s territory, although she has managed to drag me along to a few when I’ve had some extra time between work and studying.
I sneak another glance, and they’re all watching me now. The way they’re staring sends a shiver down my spine. Especially because they’re clearly talking softly to each other. And I’m certain they’re talking about me.
“All right folks!” Mr. Kellan’s voice jolts me back to the competition and what I’m supposed to be doing. “We’re going to take a thirty-minute lunch break. When we come back, we’ll have the Skewb, Square-1, and three-by-three-by-three events.”
I stand and hurry out of the auditorium, ready to sit in my car with nobody around for a bit. Unfortunately, I ruin my moment of escape by glancing one last time over my shoulder to see if any of the guys I was checking out is coming over to my side of the auditorium to chat me up.
They aren’t. They’re slowly filing out of the other side of the auditorium, and each of them is solving a Rubik’s Cube, which answers the question of why they seemed so comfortable here. Maybe they’re coaches or something.
I should head back and interview a few more kids, but I just can’t handle the thought of more one-word non-answers to my questions. So I head out to the car to have a few minutes to myself and eat the lunch I packed this morning. Besides, as much as I want to do my best work for this assignment, the bare minimum is probably still more than my editor expects. There's no reason to force a bunch of kids to talk to me when they clearly don't want to.
Chapter Two
As soon as I shut myself in the car and crank the heat, I pull out my phone and call my roommate.
Ronnie answers on the second ring. “Hey, bitch.”
“Hey to you too.” I roll my eyes and put her on speaker.
“How’s it going being a big-time reporter?”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “It’s not. This competition is tinier than I thought it’d be. I’ll have to keep my article short if I don’t want to annoy Carl by making him have to cut it down.” Licking the inside of my yogurt lid, I look around the parking lot, but no one else has come out here. “Though I have to admit, these kids are pretty impressive. They’re solving these puzzles in like ten seconds or less.”
“At least it’s good practice, and maybe you can use it for class or something too.” Ronnie sounds far away, like she’s trying to multitask in our tiny dorm room.
“What are you doing?”
