This Is Ours

PART EIGHT

Classes pass pretty fast and I’m surprised I don’t find myself bored at all throughout the day. We have five periods per day each of which lasts an hour and after four, we’re pretty much free to do whatever we want as long as we’re back in our rooms by ten.
I go through double Civil Procedure by the time it’s lunch, and my appetite has been expanded by a lot and I eat with gusto. I’m sitting alone at a table and Chris winks at me in greeting as he passes by with his friends. I’m irritated because he’s very annoying so I ignore him in response. Yes. BOO. I’m scary.
I’m a scary girl. They don’t know about me.
It’s better I keep my distance.
Dinner comes too early as well. For the first time in a long time, I feel satisfied with my productivity. Liv and Ema find me during dinner and sit on either side of me. Liv seems to be proud of something she did in her design class while Ema goes on and on about some Tik Tok she made that’s going viral.
I don’t say anything, because I just want to eat. But then some kid comes running into the room. With a jolt, I realize he’s running towards us. “Liv! Liv!”
Liv gets up with a smile, “Sorry guys, that’s my brother, it’s his first year.”
She brings him towards the table and sits him down, “Calm down, Austin, Why were you running? Ms Sarah doesn’t like it.”
“Results are out and I saw my score…and…and,”
“Ugh, it’s fine if you fail, they let you make up for it.” She says like she's very bored.
“But I was always a C kid. Not an F one.”
“Austin, go away.” Liv huffs kindly, “Just work harder next time. Read the newspapers, you’ll be fine.”
I stand up abruptly. “I’m going to go check.”
“We’ll come with you.” Liv offers quickly to get away from her brother, and Ema follows although she’s still giggling on her phone.
As we make our way to the red brick building, I notice it’s already full of activity. All our classmates are dominating the hall. The seniors scrunch their noses at us while the juniors have already left in disinterest.
Ethan joins me as I enter. “Chris is going to be insufferable again. He’s gotten the highest marks.”
“Is that published somewhere?” I ask carefully.
“Nah, but it’s just a thing where we spend thirty minutes after every test comparing results and ranking each other.”
I think of home, in a painful stroke of longing for it, but I shove it down my throat. Bad girls don’t cry.
I spot Chris standing on one of the benches clenching his megaphone like a dolt and reading out marks. A huge crowd of giggling girls surrounded him and for a moment I imagined myself amongst them.
Then, I find my paper from the administrator who looks done with life and read my results slowly and carefully.
“Hey,” I nudge Ethan, “How much did Chris get?”
Ethan shouts across the room, “HEY CHRIS! KIARA WANTS TO KNOW HOW MUCH YOU’VE GOT!”
I feel like facepalming because I kind of wanted to get out of this without the public eye.
Chris grins from ear to ear. “AH YES.” He bellows into the mic for the world to hear, “KIARA, MY FRIEND. WOULD YOU DO ME THE HONOR OF JOINING ME ON STAGE HERE.”
He points to the bench he’s standing on. I grumble at him as I make my way. “My dignity is in your hands, weirdo.”
He turns serious, “Of course.”
Then he goes into storytelling mode anyways, “KIARA AND I HAVE A BET. SO IF SHE GETS HIGHER THAN ME, YOU ALL GET TO SEE ME DO HER CHORES FOR A WEEK WEARING A DOPEY SHIRT, AND IF SHE LOSES, THEN IT’S EVEN MORE FUN BECAUSE IT’S GOING TO BE MOST HUMILIATING WEEK FOR HER! IT’S A WIN-WIN ‘CAUSE YOU LOVE ME AND HATE HER!”
I can’t help but laugh with the crowd who all do look like they hate me and love him. And honestly? It feels good. Finally, these people aren’t like Ema who wants me to be their best friend.
And I do deserve all this hate as I have been nothing but a jerk to everybody I’ve met. From the guys at the theater to my civil procedure class to my economics project team to the girls in my dorm.
“KIARA JAIN SHARMA,” Chris bends down on one knee, “WILL YOU TELL ME YOUR MARKS NOW?”
“328.”  I whisper first. He blinks in shock. Then I grab the megaphone and yell into it- “328!”
The crowd cheers in excitement. “HOW MUCH DID YOU GET, CHRIS?” I ask.
He looks at me in mock irritation, and then with a dramatic shudder, he says in a quiet, shattered way, “328.”
Now I look at him in shock.
“To keep in mind about fair play, we’ll both be doing our end of the bargain. Ha!” He says and jumps down. The crowd seems to agree.
“So smile for me.”
“Not now.” I reply, clenching my teeth.
Then I get the hell out of there. I see Ms Sarah enter and disperse the crowd threatening to give them detention for being so noisy every time they come to get their results checked like a bunch of nerds. But it’s all well and good, I suppose, as long as no one follows me.