Summer had never felt such a rush of exhilaration. She was on fire at this decathlon and loving every minute of it. If someone had asked her a year ago to be involved with the team, she would have laughed in their face. Like, get real, join an academics club? Only dorks would do something like that. But since she'd fallen for Cohen, she often caught herself doing things completely out of character. Like getting all teary watching romantic movies in scenes that usually would have her laughing. Or, for instance, volunteering to join the school decathlon team.

Frankly, school had always bored her. She never bothered to study and yet her grades were decent, so why put in the extra effort? When Cohen had told her about the decathlon, she'd decided to try out too on a lark. It sometimes bothered her that they didn't have much in common and she'd thought that trying out for the team together was better than playing video games or reading comic books. She hadn't expected to do well on the tests but somehow, it all came easily to her. She'd always known her memory was better than average but it had never been put to the test before. Not like this, anyway, with the often obscure facts and figures they needed to answer on the spot.

With bated breath, she waited for the next question.

"This is a two part question so please listen carefully. Answers to both parts must be correct. What fort, built by the Portuguese in the late sixteenth century, is a national museum in Kenya? And, in what year was it declared to be a national museum by the British? You have ten seconds."

As her teammates mumbled amongst themselves, she glanced at Cohen. He grimaced and shrugged at her. She felt a nudge at her elbow and looked to her left. "Wasn't it Fort Jesus?" Charles Hamilton whispered, pushing at the glasses on the bridge of his nose, even though they were firmly in place. He repeated the same movement for almost every question. A nervous habit.

She nodded, suddenly excited. "That's right! And the year was 1958." She had no idea how she remembered these facts. She just did.

But Charles was shaking his head. "I don't think it was that late. It happened in the forties."

She was sure she was right. "I don't think so."

"Five seconds," droned the adjudicator.

Charles scribbled hurriedly on the answer sheet and before she could stop him, he submitted it. "What did you write down?" she hissed at him.

"And time's up. The correct answer is Fort Jesus. Year was 1958."

Cheering from a lone table nearby distracted her but it was soon obvious that their own team had lost out on this one. Charles shrank back from her killer look. "Sorry," he mumbled, poking at his glasses again. "I thought it was 1948."

Before she could stop herself, she smacked him on the back of the head. Not very hard, mind you, but just hard enough that he would remember. Glancing over again at the only team that had correctly answered the question, she noticed one boy turned in his seat, looking directly at her. He was cute – dark blue eyes crinkled at the corners and laughing softly. She guessed he must have witnessed her move on poor Charles. The moment only lasted a couple of seconds before he turned around, his back to her once more.

Charles was rubbing his head and glaring at her. "Are you insane? You just hit me."

"Oh, don't be a baby," she snapped. "I barely touched you."

Charles pleaded his case to Seth. "Is she always like this? Why don't you keep your girlfriend under control?"

Seth leaned forward and looked down the table to give his teammate a bit of advice. "I don't mess with the wrath of Summer," he stated simply.

Pleased with Cohen's reply, she eagerly waited for the next question.

A/N: Some of you might scoff at Summer's braininess in this fic but her character has taken some surprising turns during the show, so I hope it wasn't too out of line here. Besides, it's great fun to write her that way! Sorry this chapter was so short but the next one will be longer, I promise.