The Rithmatist

assignment. His mother had even asked him if he’d had one. He had promised he’d do it. Yet he’d put it off, telling himself that he’d work on it later … during his free period.
    Instead he’d gone to watch Fitch.
    Oh no …
    Layton moved through the class, glancing at each student’s notebook. Joel slowly pulled out his own notebook and opened it to the right page. Ten unworked problems lay there. Undone, ignored. Layton stepped up to Joel’s desk.
    “Again, Joel?” Layton asked, sighing.
    Joel glanced down.
    “See me after class,” Layton said, moving on.
    Joel sank down in his seat. Only two more days. He just had to survive two more days and pass his class. He’d meant to get to the assignment; he really had. He just … well, hadn’t.
    It shouldn’t matter. Layton put a lot of emphasis on tests, and Joel had achieved a perfect score on every single one. One more missed assignment wouldn’t mean much for his grade.
    Layton moved up to the front of the room. “All right, well, we’ve got ten minutes left. What to do … Let’s work some practice problems!”
    This time he got more than a few groans.
    “Or,” Layton said, “I suppose I could let you go early, since this is the last period of the day, and summer is right around the corner.”
    Students who had spent the entire period staring at the walls suddenly became alert.
    “Very well, go,” Layton said, waving.
    They were gone in a matter of seconds. Joel remained seated, going through excuses in his head. Through the cramped window, he could see other students moving on the green outside. Most classes were finished with end-of-term tests, and things were winding down. Joel himself only had the one test left, in history. It wouldn’t prove much of a problem—he’d actually studied for it.
    Joel stood and walked to Professor Layton’s desk, carrying his notebook.
    “Joel, Joel,” Layton said, expression grim. “What am I to do with you?”
    “Pass me?” Joel asked.
    Layton was silent.
    “Professor,” Joel said. “I know I haven’t been the best with my assignments—”
    “By my count, Joel,” Professor Layton interrupted, “you’ve done nine of them. Nine out of forty .”
    Nine? Joel thought. I have to have done more than that.… He thought back, considering the term’s work. Math had always been his easiest subject. He’d given very little concern for it.
    “Well,” Joel said. “I guess, maybe, I was a little too lazy.…”
    “You think?” Layton said.
    “But, my test scores,” Joel said quickly. “I’ve gotten perfect marks.”
    “Well, first off,” Layton said. “School isn’t just about tests. Graduation from Armedius is an important, prestigious achievement. It says that a student knows how to study and follow instructions. I’m not just teaching you math, I’m teaching you life skills. How can I pass someone who never does their work?”
    It was one of Layton’s favorite lectures. Actually, Joel’s experience was that most professors tended to think their subject was vitally important to a person’s future. They were all wrong—except for the Rithmatists, of course.
    “I’m sorry,” Joel said. “I … well, you’re right. I was lazy. But you can’t really go back on what you said at the beginning of the term, right? My test scores are good enough to let me pass.”
    Layton laced his fingers in front of him. “Joel, do you know how it looks to an instructor when a student never does their practice assignments, yet somehow manages to get perfect marks on their tests?”
    “Like they’re lazy?” Joel asked, confused.
    “That’s one interpretation,” Layton said, shuffling a few sheets of paper out of a stack on his desk.
    Joel recognized one of them. “My final exam.”
    “Yes,” Layton said, placing Joel’s exam on the desk beside one done by another student. The other student had gotten good marks, but not perfect. “Can you see the difference between these two tests, Joel?”
    Joel shrugged. His was neat and orderly, with an answer written at the bottom of each problem. The other test was messy, with jotted notes, equations, and scribbles filling the allotted space.
    “I’m always suspicious when a student doesn’t show their work, Joel,” Layton continued, voice hard. “I’ve been watching you for weeks now, and I haven’t been able to figure out how you’re doing it. That leaves me unable to make an official accusation.”
    Joel felt his jaw slip down in