On the sunny morning of March 14, 2024, Lakesiders on their way to school were surprised: traffic, usually tolerably steady, had become excruciatingly slow. It turns out that a series of trucks rolling into the high school campus was holding up the line. Throughout first period and halfway into second, Red Square saw only workers running to and fro from truck to truck, lugging their haul into Math Club’s secret bunkers under Allen Gates.
March 14, colloquially known as Pi Day after the infamous mathematical number π (3.1415…), is an important holiday for mathematicians around the world. As staunch mathematicians, Lakeside’s very own senior Math Club leaders decided that they would make their last Pi Day at Lakeside count.
There were apple pies and pear pies, lemon meringue pies and cherry pies, pies of all possible assortments and sizes. These were no common pies; they were luxury pies, shaped like the mathematical symbol of pi. An anonymous observer described themselves as being sent to their knees, tears streaming across their face, by the excessive detail: “every slice of apple in each pie was carved into a pi; every apple. Every apple!” Without a doubt, such a project must have cost hundreds, if not thousands of dollars.
There was only one tiny inconsistency in their ostentation: Math Club was broke.
As with all mathematical dilemmas, there was a logical explanation for this.
Namely, an unnamed aspiring mathematician had realized something the night of Pi Day, fresh from the Math Club feasting and into a new venue of pie paradise: the local math circle’s pies seemed suspiciously familiar.
Seattle Infinity Math Circle, also known as SIMC, is a nonprofit organization run by high school students. Its newsletters, articles, and mock contests are the stuff of legends, boasting various famous contest math and computer science leaders. As such a large entity, SIMC has all the funds needed for an army of pies. More suspiciously, SIMC also has a high overlap in its leadership team with that of Lakeside’s Math Club. Had Math Club embezzled thousands of dollars from SIMC?
When asked for comment, SIMC and Math Club leader Alex Z. ’24 immediately adopted an expression of serious concern and vehemently denied the accusation. “We paid for our pies with our blood, sweat, and tears,” he said, running away before further detail could be extorted. When approached, his co-leader William F. ’24 briefly panicked before he composed himself and emphasized that they had acquired the pies through purely legal means. In contradiction to their denials, junior SIMC leader Rohan D. ’25 broke down upon being approached, fled, and upon being caught again, confessed immediately: “We were just trying to celebrate Pi day properly!”
Had Math Club truly embezzled SIMC money to pay for their abundance of luxury pies? The answer is ambiguous. But we do thank them for their pies.
All the contents of this story are fictional. Similarities between any real-life events and the article are purely coincidental.