Troy had never felt so tired in his life. Little pins of fire sieged the back of his eyeballs. The clock above the board always ticked an inch backwards before leaping forwards. It drove Troy nuts. He couldn’t stand the useless despair and stupid joy ripping him apart at both ends. Troy repeated a mantra in his head: llama, llama, llama, llama, duck! The needling voice of Troy’s teacher melted. All his peers melted away, too—like ice cream off a cone. Troy felt top heavy, his head swelling to the size of Jupiter. His head crashed into the desk and just kept going.