Having an eidetic memory and being able to read 20,000 words per minute is inherently useless if you can’t focus on the content.

Every dorm surrounding Spencer’s was nearly vibrating with liveliness; speakers blowing, floors echoing with stomps, the faint sound of a bed creaking rhythmically, chatter and laughter that drifted through every hall and seeped under his door. He stared down at the textbook in his lap, trying to refocus his attention on the words so he could have the rest of the book memorized before his exam, but his attempts were futile.

His head pounded against his skull, a nagging reminder of all the noise going on next door. How could people party during finals week? Genius or not, he was beyond stressed (as if he’d ever fail).

His eyes narrowed at the book helplessly, waiting for the words to start processing in his brain so he could tune out the rest of the noise. Much to his dismay, it stayed a blur. His eyes unfocused, zoning out blankly of the black ink printed of crisp white pages.

Spencer abruptly snapped out of it at the sound of knocking on his door. He sighed and shut the textbook, carefully placing it to the side before making his way to the door, silently praying it wasn’t another drunk college student accidentally knocking at his door.