3
Mom took me to register, not out of concern,
but to haggle over fees.
When the teacher said tuition was $2300, and
room and board $1600, she asked about
financial aid. It had been free in my first year.
The teacher hesitated, but Mom wouldn’t
stop. “Lee was the top student in her grade,
so her tuition was waived. Only the top three
get free tuition; the top ten get their fees
waived.”
Mom glared at me. “What was your rank last
semester?”
“Thirteen,” I whispered. The school’s
environment was poor, and Mom’s constant
negativity affected my grades. I’d spent most
of my time chatting with Kevin. If it weren’t
for my solid foundation, I would have done
even worse. It was my fault. I had to own up
to it
Mom counted her money, her face grim. “I
told you to drop out. Four thousand a
semester, almost ten thousand a year! You think money grows on trees?”
Her voice echoed through the hall. People
stared
–
some gleeful, some curious, some
sympathetic. I wanted to disappear.
Unfazed, Mom continued to rant, grabbing my
arm. “Quit school, come home.”
I found unexpected strength, clutching the
teacher’s desk. “No! I’m going to college. I
won’t end up like last time. I’ll die studying, if
I have to!”
Someone yelled, “I support you, Lee!” Parents
started talking.
“If a child wants to study, let them! My kid
gets punished all the time; his dad dragged
him here.”
“Mine too. If he had her drive, I wouldn’t care
about his grades.”
<
The school was known for low academic
standards, yet there were so many students,
fueled by parents‘ reluctance to have children.
leave school early.
The teacher intervened. “Students‘ grades
fluctuate. With effort, she can catch up.” She
helped me up, noticing bruises on my arms.
“If you’re willing, I can sponsor Lee.”
“Really?” Mom’s attitude changed instantly.
“Good people get rewarded,” she mumbled,
signing the paperwork.
While handing in my summer homework, I
avoided eye contact with the teacher. Only I
heard Mom mutter, “It works! School’s a rip-
off. Where’s all that money going?“.
My heart sank. She’d done it on purpose.
The teacher’s hand rested gently on my
shoulder. “Don’t worry. Study hard. Go to
college.”
3
<
My reputation was tarnished. People called
me a “beggar.” Some admired my defiance. I
ignored them. The high–stakes exams
loomed. Failure in any subject meant no
diploma.
The copyright of this content belongs to
“realnovel“.
Chapter 2
Six years away from school left me with a lot
of catching up to do.
My first monthly exam of senior year was
disastrous.
While my English and Language Arts scores
were decent, the rest plummeted. I failed
math.
My math teacher was furious, practically
drilling holes into me with his stare while
handing back the tests.
“Don’t think you can ignore math just
because you’re in the humanities. It’s 150
L
points on the college entrance exam, and
you’ll still need calculus in college. Don’t be
like some students, obsessed with Language
Arts and English, only to fail the exam
because of a low score in one subject.”
The pressure intensified. But I had no way
out. I had to cross this bridge.
The subject–level exams covered basic
material, which I’d crammed. To ace the
college entrance exam, I needed to start over
and practice a lot.
My parents wouldn’t pay for extra materials. After class, I nervously approached my math
teacher.
He’d been sarcastic in class, but his eyes lit up when he saw me. “Which problem are you
stuck on?”
I pointed to a complex problem on my test. He explained it, but I still didn’t grasp it.
He noticed something. “Your foundation in
freshman year is weak. Did you just read the textbook and not pay attention in class?”
I hesitantly nodded. “Sir, how can I improve
my math?”
He struggled. He’d heard about the incident
at the beginning of the year his nephew’s
outburst had spread among the teachers. He
didn’t think my parents could afford tutoring.
He pondered. “Just reading the textbook is
useless. You need challenging problems. The
textbook has a few advanced problems; start with those. If you’re stuck, come see me.”
I thanked him. I hadn’t expected him to give
up his free time.
“Do you still have your freshman year
textbooks?”
“Yes,” I said, having brought them to school
for the subject exams.
“Great.” He seemed pleased. “When we print
out the tests for the freshman class. I’ll make
an extra copy for you.”
Before he could finish, someone burst in.
I turned to see a boy, backlit, bouncing in like
a hyperactive golden retriever.
“Uncle, I…”
He stopped when he saw me, backing out,
then pausing.
“Hey, isn’t this our valiant warrior princess?”
I recognized his voice and glared at him
discreetly.
He was surprised. “I thought you were made
of wood! You actually respond to people.”
“Zach, when did I say you could give female
classmates nicknames? ‘Valiant warrior
princess‘? I think she’s fighting you, you
dragon.”
Watching them joke, I felt envious.
He must’ve grown up in a loving, supportive
environment to be so confident and cheerful.
“You haven’t lost the test I gave you, have
<
“You haven’t lost the test I gave you, have
you?”
Zach grinned. “How could I lose a test from
Her Highness? Ready for an inspection?”
“Okay, let’s see it.”
Zach was surprised the teacher was serious
and slouched over to get his test.
My teacher introduced him: “That’s Zach,
from the art class.‘
دو
Art class? He looked like a jock.
I expected Zach’s test to be a mess, but he
scored 120.
Zach leaned over. “My uncle makes good
tests. You should look at them. Want to work
on his next one together? We could split the
work.”
Despite the risk of gossip, I couldn’t pass up
this opportunity. “Where can I find you?”
He readily gave his class number. “I’m in 6th
period, senior year. You’re in 1st period,
22
L
senior year. I know.”
