April in New York is the season of endless rain. Although spring is already here, the overcast skies tell me that winter never left, its shadow looming over the city.
I hate how wet it is. I hate how people smell; the damp and unwashed odor clogs my nostrils. Most of all, I hate how the water seeped in through my soles because my parents were too cheap to get me waterproof rainboots. This year, they were only able to afford it for Rui, but he hated how unfashionable they were, so he never wore them. I would have taken them for today, but Ming beat me to it.
My reward for being slow? A pair of soggy socks.
I peel them off in the school bathroom stall, wrinkling my nose at the sweaty scent. I pat my feet dry with a paper towel before fishing out a pair of dry ones and slipping them on. Then, I do the best that I can with my shoes before heading over to homeroom.
Today, we will get our midterm exam results back. The grades will not only affect our report card but also our class rankings. It sorts our classmates into advanced, intermediate, and remedial classes, essentially telling the student body who was bright enough to get the bulk of the school’s resources. It was no secret that advanced students held the best club positions and got into nationally ranked colleges after their time at Two Bridges. People placed bets on the rankings to see which sophomores would have the best resumes by junior year for the college application season.
I take a seat between Ainsley and Maia, earning a look of displeasure from my teacher for not being in alphabetical order. Technically, it is alphabetical, my “Ng” fitting perfectly between their “Lim” and “Rahman.” Not wanting to be contrarian, Ainsley moves away from us, setting her “Lim” right before Natalie’s “Lee.” My eyes skip over my former best friend and Maia pouts at the distance between us and Ainsley.
“She never does this,” the hijabi says, referring to our teacher. “I don’t know why she’s so strict now.”
I shrug. Perhaps students weren’t the only ones under scrutiny after the midterm season.
A few seats away from Maia, Mikael fiddles with a Rubik’s cube. I remember him standing in front of Natalie on the train and idly wonder what the story was there.
Not my business. I ignore the strange feeling in my chest.
The teacher passes out white envelopes, taped shut so that no one but the student meant to receive them sees them. She goes down the list, giving them out in order. Louis gets his first, the “B” of his “Beaufils” not superseded by the “A” of anyone’s last name. As the envelopes get closer and closer to my name, I feel nervous.
“I’m sure you did great,” Maia says. “You explain math better than the teacher.”
Logically, I know I did not fail any of my classes. But I worry about going beneath my own standards and doing worse than last year.
The warm envelope slides beneath my fingers. I wait until I pass Maia hers before I open mine. I press the paper close to my face so no one behind me could peek over my shoulders. My eyes quickly scan the grades, which neatly reflect the ones from last year, save for my A- in my science class. I frown, but it was expected. Balancing chemical equations was hard.
I glance at my class ranking. I remain in the top ten, but much to my dismay, my ranking has dropped from last year.
Fourth. It’s an unlucky number in Chinese culture. In a silly way, I would have felt better if I had been fifth. Selfishly, I try to guess who took my place.
Around the room, students react with equal parts joy and dismay at their results. Maia isn’t in the top ten, but she’s happy to be placed in intermediate instead of remedial classes, a vast improvement from freshman year. Ainsley has made it to the rankings, breaking in at eighth. Mikael is first, to no one’s surprise. But who takes second and third?
The bell rings, and I join the crowd of students around the official list posted before the assembly hall. I politely push to the front, my eyes widening in surprise when I see who took third.
Natalie Lee.
How did a girl who left school for months make it that high in the ranking? And why did it have to be her who took my spot?
Above her, someone named Yuey Wang is in second place. I didn’t recognize the name, but I also don’t think that student is new. The grading system at the school takes some time to get used to, and it’s no secret that teachers have to like a student to place them in the rankings.
Ainsley shoves through the crowd and stands next to me, her eyes traveling to the spot on the paper I couldn’t stop staring at.
“I’m sorry, Yan. She doesn’t deserve to outrank both of us.”
Later at lunch, we discovered that we weren’t the only ones unhappy with our rankings. I set my plastic bag of pastries down while Maia tells us everything she overheard during gym class.
“Louis didn’t make it to the list,” she says. “I heard that he was bragging about how he was going to make sixth. Now he’s angry and demanding to speak with the guidance counselor about it.”
I roll my eyes. “What about Natalie?”
“What about her?”
“She’s in second place,” Ainsley cuts in. “That girl never had a ranking before and the first time she makes it on the list, she scores high. What’s the deal with that?”
“Mikael tutored her. Apparently, they’ve been spending afternoons at the library.”
“She’s never cared about her grades,” I blurt out.
“Natalie will care about anything if there is a cute boy involved,” Maia says, matter-of-factly. “But everyone’s been saying that the list is unfair. Apparently, four of the rankings are reserved for the scholarship students.”
“There are scholarship students at Two Bridges? I didn’t know they were taking our spots,” Ainsley interjects coolly.
“Rumor has it that it’s the only way Two Bridges could remain open. The city forced the school to take poor students from nearby neighborhoods. Reba, who helps out with the papers in the main office, says there are only four of them.”
My blood runs cold. “Did she say who they were?”
“Nope. Apparently, their names are blacked out on their folders. Extremely confidential,” Maia whispers, her voice thick with drama.
“Why don’t they go to public school? They make those places for poor people,” Ainsley sneers.
“It’s too late to change the list,” I say, ignoring her comment. “Our grades are final.”
“There are four students on the top ten list who don’t belong here. If I can prove it, maybe I can get them taken off the rankings.”
Maia and I exchange worried looks.
“Ainsley, it’s just a rumor. Who knows how true it is? Someone probably made it up because they felt bad they didn’t make the top ten,” I say, trying to reassure her.
“We all took a test to get into Two Bridges. Every student here is smarter than the rest of the city. You’re going to be in advanced classes for the rest of the year.” Maia places a hand on Ainsley’s shoulder. “What more could you want?”
“I guess not every scholarship student could have made it on the list,” Ainsley admits.
Unfortunately, the rest of the school didn’t feel that way. Maybe it’s because most of the students are bored and rich, but someone began a manhunt for the scholarship students. Their identities were all anyone could talk about.
Sometimes, I pretend that I’m not one of the four. That’s how little my peers suspected me. But like everyone else, I became curious about who the other three scholarship students were. I wonder if one of them understood what it was like to live like me, to wear a gilded mask in school and shed it for the harsh socioeconomic reality of going home.
I find myself craving that kinship these days. Between Maia’s obsession with designer clothes and Ainsley’s high-society social gatherings, there’s no room for me to complain about the superintendent of my family’s apartment refusing to turn the heat on against the stubborn early spring cold. Outside of school, they could never survive a day in my shoes.
The truth is, my friends are lucky that they never have to live like me. I envy that they never have to contend with wet shoes and a dirty subway commute. Maybe it’s better than no one knows who I am, even if they understand my struggle.71Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVCOM3IUhWI
and then Add to home screen.