181 Days of Madeline Jesty

Chapter 17: No Effort

Seventeen days had passed since I met Mickey and introduced myself as Majesty. Seventeen days had passed since I knew when I would die, which greatly affected how I lived.

Yet because of the consecutive chaotic events, I felt like it had been a month. So many things were happening in a day that each circumstance felt like numbered acts in a theatrical performance. Mom's imprudence toward my future, Mickey's overwhelming adoration for me, and my own struggle to act normally amid my impending demise for everyone's sanity were the three matters I held most crucial, but there were also Jane's incessant anguish toward me and my confusion over these feelings for Mickey as I would try to determine whether this was love, lust, or self-satisfaction. I almost couldn't keep up.

But somehow I felt that the days were beginning to slow down. Weird how several days had passed by without drama. Gone were the weeks of getting to know one another along with the light and undemanding academic schedule. Now we—or rather they—were all suffering from assignments and class activities given one after the other. Since I decided to leave this existence with an unforgettable reputation and be remembered as "the one who outshined Jane," surpassing her calculated and fake prestige, I took all these tasks seriously, finishing them before I would go to my balcony and imagine a life that could have been if I didn't eat that piece of cake when I was seven years old. So far, all my marks were the highest—a perfect score.

Dad would have been proud.

Oh, only if there were really an afterlife, then I could see the reactions of Mrs. Agoncillo, Jane, and Sister Antonia when they would find out that the knowledge I had been showing a few years ago was just a percent of my effort.

"Maddie," Ms. Lilian, the only teacher I was comfortable to call my first name, called, "could you come to my office? Just a sec."

I was about to stand to wipe the crumbs out of my skirt when Steph stopped me. "What does she need?"

"I don't know. Maybe she thought I was cheating after getting all activities and quizzes perfect," I joked.

"What?! Very trad! Would Ms. Lilian—

"Calm down, Steph. That's a joke. You know Ms. Lilian."

"That's what I thought. I mean . . . you are smart to begin with. You get grades no lower than an A minus without even studying, and you are part of the batch's high-ranking students academically."

I laughed at her speech of support. "That's why I love you, bitch. Don't worry. I'll keep you updated."

"Hoe, as you should! You've been so kind these past few days, I thought you were possessed!"

I laughed at her remark before walking toward the door and exiting the classroom. But just a few steps out, Mickey blocked me, both her hands in front of her. She gently pulled me to the ledge. "Did you get in trouble? Was it because of last time?"

"Mickey, that was already a week ago. If we're in trouble, Ms. Lilian could have called us the next day and asked us to bring our parents, but it has been more than a week since that happened."

"What if they've been observing us the whole week and realized we were just goofing around them?"

"You were with me that day, but what happened? Jane still invited you to eat with them the next day. She hates me, but she likes you. She has a huge crush on you. So if you pretend to befriend them—or not pretend, just . . . as long as you can tolerate being with them, our after-class sessions can continue safely."

I winked. After class hours was the only time Mickey and I could make out, which was why I loved the sound of bell. Steph and I would chat a little, and then after saying goodbye, I'd proceed to the parking lot where Troy would be waiting. We'd drive to Cornelia's Café where Amielle would hand me two hot cups of sweet coffee-based drinks and a small paper bag with soft, chewy cookies. Flavors would differ every day, which I'd applaud Amielle because she knew my taste well. Mickey would then ride with me until we get to our house, and I would tell Suzie we'd be making our assignment in my room.

I could only pray my moans weren't that loud though.

But not today. Today was a Friday, and Friday was Mickey's "me" time, whatever that was. I couldn't deny that I often thought about what she was doing every Friday and was tempted to ask her about it, but I had to remind myself that acting as a jealous, paranoid girlfriend was not part of our competigreement. Besides, I was the one who insisted I had no intention to take our relationship to the next level even though Mickey had expressed this desire. Why the interest, right?

"Fine," she answered. "Will you tell me about it later?"

"It's Friday, Mickey."

"You can tell it to me when you come back."

"All right," I whispered, careful for anyone in Jane's group not to see us. "Wish me luck."

I tapped Mickey's arm twice before walking toward the faculty room and then to Ms. Lilian's desk. She was clipping some papers that seemed like our last week's activity.

"Please sit," she offered the chair in front of her. I knew with the way she smiled that she was excited to tell me something. "Look at these."

Ah, of course. Ms. Lilian knows I wasn't showing my full potential, and now that I am taking my studies quite more seriously, she's hyping it, I thought as I looked at my graded assessments from different subjects. If Mom . . . if Mom was just like her, maybe I'll feel better.

"These are my quizzes."

"See! You can be the valedictorian if you can keep that up till the fourth grading!" Sad to say, Ms. Lilian, I only have until the third, I replied in my mind. She then added, "I just know you can! I saw how you give little to no effort yet still get good grades. And your behavior this week, I must say I am impressed. My coteachers have noticed it too."

"Thanks, Ms. Lilian." I just thought it would be satisfying if Jane is awarded the valedictorian when I pass away, but everyone—including her—knows it should have been me if I were still alive. I will not give her the satisfaction, not even over my dead body was what I would really like to say, but instead, I explained, "I just realized our conversation last time and . . . reevaluated my goals. This is our last year. Why not give it my all?"

"Perfect, perfect!"

I felt Ms. Lilian's extreme excitement and somehow felt bad for lying. She was my favorite teacher, the only authority in this school who believed that I could do better even though I was already doing fine since I became her student. I wondered if teachers really had some sort of telepathy to know which of their students were not giving their best yet.

"Please continue this. I would love seeing more of that excellent academic performance and behavior," she said, leaned back, and cleared her throat, which was why I realized she had something more to say. "But I actually called you here because of something else."

"A-about what, Ms. Lilian?"

She looked directly into myeyes before leaning forward again to whisper, "About you and Mickey."