Monday morning arrived, and I lay awake in bed, still amazed by the events of the weekend. We had won nearly $300,000 in just two days. It felt surreal. Doing some quick mental math, I realized $125,000 was probably just one or two months of Uncle Charlie's usual income—given his lifestyle and success as a jingle writer. For Dad, however, $40,000 represented about half a year's salary—something he himself had muttered in shock yesterday.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps and muffled voices downstairs. Curious, I quickly got dressed and wandered into the kitchen. There, standing at the counter and sipping coffee as if she owned the place, was a woman I instantly recognized—Berta.
She turned to face me, eyeing me up and down appraisingly. "So you're Jake, huh? Heard a lot about you. I'm Berta, the one who keeps this place livable."
"Nice to meet you," I replied politely, smiling. I knew exactly who Berta was from watching the show—she was blunt, tough, and incredibly funny. Meeting her in person felt exciting.
Berta narrowed her eyes slightly as if sizing me up. "You're way more polite than your uncle. Guess manners skip a generation in the Harper family," she remarked dryly, making her way toward Charlie's bedroom.
I moved toward the kitchen, intending to grab some breakfast, but before I could start, I overheard my dad's voice lecturing about not putting peanut butter in the refrigerator. Curious, I headed toward the sound, only to see Berta leaving the room.
"Uncle Charlie," I asked, feigning innocence, "why is Berta leaving?"
Charlie sighed dramatically. "Why? It doesn't matter, Jake. What matters is she's gone." He looked at Alan with exaggerated despair. "And we're going to die."
Alan rolled his eyes, clearly irritated but slightly amused. "Relax, Charlie. We'll manage... somehow."
"You don't understand, Alan," Charlie protested dramatically. "Berta was the only thing keeping us from descending into total chaos."
I chuckled softly at the exchange. Though Charlie was exaggerating, I knew Berta's absence would indeed be felt.
Alan suddenly glanced at the clock. "Jake, hurry up—it's your first day back at school. You don't want to be late."
I sighed quietly, grabbing my backpack from the living room. The excitement of the weekend quickly faded into the mundane reality of sixth grade. As Alan drove me to school, I stared out the window, my mind wandering. Repeating elementary school, knowing everything I did from my past life, seemed tedious. Should I show my intelligence, skip some grades, and save myself from boredom?
"You okay, Jake?" Alan asked, noticing my silence.
"Yeah, Dad," I replied, forcing a smile. "Just thinking about school."
He nodded sympathetically. "I know it's not as exciting as winning money with Charlie, but it's important."
"I know," I replied, deciding to take things slow for now. Perhaps blending in was the safest option.
Alan pulled up to the school entrance, and I stepped out, waving goodbye. Walking toward the familiar building, I felt strangely calm. Maybe school would be bearable after all—especially knowing I had an entirely new life waiting outside these classroom walls.
My optimism, however, quickly faded as I entered the classroom and sat through the first lessons of the day. Basic math problems, simple reading comprehension, and geography questions about state capitals left me astonished. I had forgotten just how rudimentary sixth-grade material was.
"This is going to be hell," I murmured softly to myself, staring at the board while my classmates enthusiastically raised their hands to answer basic questions. Having to pretend interest and coexist daily with ten-year-olds seemed daunting and exhausting.
Still, I considered my options carefully. Maybe revealing my full intelligence right away would make things weird. Perhaps slowly showing a bit more skill would be smarter. Yet, as I glanced at the clock again, counting down the hours left in the day, I firmly decided one thing: by the end of sixth grade, I would leap ahead to high school—skipping two years at once.
After what felt like an eternity, the school day ended, and I saw Mom waiting by her car to pick me up. As I climbed into the passenger seat, she greeted me with a warm smile. "Hey, honey. How was your first day back?"
I sighed softly. "It was okay, I guess. Pretty easy stuff."
Judith glanced at me thoughtfully as she drove. "Is everything alright, Jake? You seem a little quiet."
"I'm fine," I assured her gently, pausing for a moment before asking, "Are you okay, Mom? You seem tired."
She smiled softly, clearly touched by my concern. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Just a busy day. But thank you for asking."
We drove in comfortable silence for a minute, then Judith broke the quiet. "I heard from your dad about your weekend with Charlie. Seems like you had a good time."
I smiled faintly, nodding. "Yeah, it was fun. Uncle Charlie's place is pretty cool."
Judith sighed lightly, a small but genuine smile appearing on her face. "I'm glad you're getting along with him. I know this situation is hard, but I want you to have good relationships with your family."
"Thanks, Mom," I replied sincerely. "I think things are going to be okay."
She reached over and gently squeezed my hand. "Me too, Jake. I think everything will work out."
I relaxed into my seat, watching the familiar neighborhood drift by as we headed home.