The yellow car appeared. It rolled forward. Leo held his breath.
Mr. Hendricks turned on the projector. "Today, parabolas."
Each failure looked different. Sometimes the bridge sagged in the middle, snapping like a wishbone. Other times it held perfectly—until the little yellow test car rolled across, hit a weak joint, and tumbled into the pixelated abyss. The game never mocked him. It just reset the planks and waited.