Chapter 5

The crowd gasped. Chloe’s father, Mr. Vanderbilt, looked absolutely livid.

Suddenly, Julian turned his head, his eyes locking precisely onto the curtain where I was hiding. His gaze was filled with the arrogant superiority of a man who thought he owned the world.

"Since you're already here, why play the mouse, Logan? Come on out."

I had been spotted.

I had to hand it to him; the gold medalist’s observation skills were indeed top-tier.

Taking a deep breath, I ripped the curtain open. Amidst the gasps of the wealthy guests, I stepped onto the polished floor, wearing my dust-covered school uniform, and walked right into the spotlight.

The moment Chloe saw me, tears streamed down her face. She frantically shook her head, mouthing: *Go! Get out of here!*

I didn’t look at her. I kept my eyes locked on Julian.

"Mr. Vance," I said, brushing the soot off my sleeves. "You got your variables mixed up. Chloe didn’t call me that because she wanted to. It was a dumb Truth or Dare game. But for a guy with a gold medal, you seem pretty bad at distinguishing independent and dependent variables. Her emotions are controlled by me. What kind of constant do you think you are in her life?"

The entire ballroom went dead silent.

"What? Scared?" Julian looked down at me, casually spinning a multi-million-dollar diamond ring between his fingers.

Chloe rushed forward, shielding me like a protective kitten. "Julian! You're disgusting! Logan is just a high school senior, he hasn’t even taken college-level quantum mechanics! You're just trying to humiliate him!"

"Oh? You care about him that much?" Julian’s eyes went cold. He reached out to grab Chloe’s wrist. "Since your little boyfriend is a coward, why don't you just put the ring on?"

Before his hand could touch her, I intercepted him.

My grip was iron-clad. Years of doing heavy labor at my parents' farm had given me a level of raw strength that this spoiled rich kid couldn’t match. Julian’s face twisted in pain.

"Who said I was a coward?" I shoved his hand away, pulling Chloe behind me. "Give me the test."

The guests began to murmur, and Mr. Vanderbilt looked ready to call security, but Julian raised a hand to stop them.

A projector screen rolled down, and a incredibly complex quantum mechanics wave function equation appeared on the screen.

"Solve the Schrödinger equation for a particle in a finite potential well under these boundary conditions," Julian sneered. "I’ll give you ten minutes."

Chloe closed her eyes in despair.

But looking at the screen, I actually smiled.

How incredibly ironic.

This exact advanced problem was something I had taught myself and derived in that very notebook Chloe had thrown into the trash—just to show off to her.

My annotation next to that equation had been: *“I am like this particle, forever trapped in the potential well called Chloe. No matter how much my probability wave spreads, I can never escape you.”*

She had thrown the notebook away, but had she read it?

If she had, she would know I could solve this in my sleep.

I grabbed the digital stylus and began writing on the smartboard. No hesitation. No pauses.

One line. Two lines. Ten lines...

As my derivation expanded, the smug smirk on Julian’s face gradually dissolved, replaced by a horrified stiffness.

"This is impossible... this derivation isn't even in the standard undergraduate syllabus..." he muttered to himself.

Writing the final symbol, I tossed the stylus aside and turned to face the pale-faced billionaire heir.

"Schrödinger's cat is both dead and alive before you open the box," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "But when it comes to Chloe, there is only one wave-function collapse—she is mine."

The room erupted into chaos.

Ignoring the shocked stares of the elite, I grabbed Chloe’s hand. Her fingers were ice-cold and trembling.

"Let's go," I said.

"Where... where are we going?" she asked blankly.

"Back to school." I pulled her toward the exit. As we passed Mr. Vanderbilt, I stopped.

The older man was shaking with rage, pointing a finger at me. "Logan! If you dare walk out that door with her, I will have you expelled from Oakwood Prep by tonight! Your scholarship, your Ivy League recommendations—gone! I will make sure you have no future in this country!"

Chloe flinched, trying to pull her hand back. "Logan, don't... I’m not worth ruining your life over..."

I tightened my grip, locking my fingers with hers.

I turned to the man who held all the wealth and power, my gaze colder than the winter rain.

"Mr. Vanderbilt, you have one thing wrong."

"Oakwood Prep didn't give me a chance. Oakwood Prep needs me to keep their Ivy League admission rates up. As for my future..."

I pulled out my crumpled exam permit from my pocket and flicked it in front of his face.

"I finished the national selection exam in forty-five minutes. I am absolutely certain I got a perfect score. Once I make the national team and bring back a gold medal, MIT and Princeton will be begging me to join them. Do you think your influence is bigger than the academic prestige of the United States of America?"

Without waiting for his response, I pulled Chloe with me and kicked open the heavy oak doors of the ballroom.

Outside, the storm had cleared, and golden sunlight was piercing through the clouds.

Chloe stumbled along beside me. One of her high heels had slipped off, so she simply kicked the other one off too, running barefoot on the wet asphalt.

We ran until we were miles away, finally stopping under a bridge to catch our breath.

She slid down against the concrete wall, burying her face in her knees, and began to sob uncontrollably.

"Logan, are you an idiot?! *Sob*... You provoked the Vance family, you provoked my dad... What if you didn't pass? What if you got that equation wrong?!"