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THE ZANNA FUNCTION

benches. “I do love it when I remember things properly. Zanna
Mayeld, aren’t you? Come on, come on! Don’t be a dilly-dally!”
“Sorry,” Zanna said, tearing her eyes away from the archi-
tecture and descending the gentle slope. “I was—”
“I’m well aware of it all,” her teacher said. ere was a strange
electricity around her, and it made her white-and-hot-pink
hair poof out in a tangle. Her complexion seemed a bit time-
less—not elderly but not youthful either, as if she had stolen
bits and pieces from across her entire timeline and blended
them together. She was dressed in a smart black pencil skirt
and modest white blouse with a black tie, but the most curious
thing was the belt around her waist. It was heavy, cracked leather
with a spyglass of polished brass slung at her hip, the kind a
nineteenth-century sea captain would use to look toward the
horizon. “Now hurry up and sit down, you silly girl. is is my
favorite lecture, and I won’t have you delaying it any longer!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Zanna said.
e class had been divided into teams of three, and Zanna
spotted Nora sitting a little ways o. Unfortunately, it seemed
the plan to save her a seat had failed, as Nora had been grouped
with Libby and Amir. ey ashed apologetic smiles.
e only group with an open spot was up near the front. A
small girl with sun-drenched skin, a hawkish nose, and luminous
brown eyes sat next to a boy Zanna had seen before. It took her
a moment to place him, but then she remembered Cedwick
Hemmington, the younger brother she had seen getting out of
the limousine that morning.
“Excellent,” her teacher said as Zanna settled in. “We’ll do
introductions again. My name is Dr. Maru Fitzie, and welcome
to Mathematics 101! I’ve put you in teams of three because tri-
angles are so much more fun than single points. Let’s all take a
moment to meet our new friends.”

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