The Class Prince
As much as I liked my new group of friends, life at Ivory High was hard and stressful, living up to its reputation as one of the most prestigious schools in the country. Even if I could better my behavioral issues, I couldn't fix my grades. At least, not immediately. I was always against the idea that grades defined a person's value, but it was hard to rebel against a system that brainwashed us to think otherwise.
Teachers wrote what looked like gibberish on the board, but no one dared to ask questions when they didn't understand — including me — because nobody wanted to be that kid who slowed everyone down. I had too many essays, too much homework, too many projects, and not enough time. Oh, and don't get me started with the weekly tests that we had to do in an unrealistic amount of time. Our most recent one was: 'List down all the Spanish kings during the Golden Age, their date of birth and death, and explain why the Spanish Empire declined through time. You have 30 minutes'How did they expect us to answer that? I couldn't even remember what I ate last night!"Everyone who didn't get the average grade, please come to my office after class," said Mr. Power, who began handing out last week's test paper.Another problem was that teachers often did everything in alphabetical order, and it didn't help my ego that they often linked me with the smartest boy in our grade. I've been in Ivory High for a month, and the only time I have ever seen Ivan pick up a pen was during quizzes and tests. Regardless, he'd ace them.I watched as Mr. Power zigzagged around the room, mumbling, 'good', 'maybe next time', 'decent'. My heart raced each time he walked past me. I tried to wipe the sweat off my clammy hands against my jeans, but the friction only made it worse. Mr. Power stopped at my desk and slid me my paper, narrowing his eyes at me with that look of disdain."I'll see you after class, Desmond."I flinched when I saw my grade. 3/100. It felt like a punch to the gut.Mr. Power turned towards Ivan, and his face brightened immediately."Ah, Mr. Moonrich! Brilliant work, absolutely marvelous! The delicate choice of words brought out the eloquence of your arguments. It was a pleasure reading your paper, bravo, bravo."I craned my neck to peek at his grade. A 100/100 was circled in bright red. Ivan caught me glancing and lowered his gaze to see my grade in return. Flustered, I flipped it over, but it was too late. He had already seen it."Pfft," he snorted, not even trying to hide the fatuous superiority in his gaze. And then he returned to his usual sleeping position, resting his head on his arms without a care in the world. I sat there with parted lips.Did... Did he just laugh at me?My jaw tightened. A mix of embarrassment, humiliation, and my own disappointment made me see red."Hey, Desy, did you pass?" Charlie whispered, before I could shove Ivan off his chair."The teacher gave me three points for writing my name correctly," I mumbled."I didn't pass either," he said, showing me his 48/100. "We can go to the teacher's office together."I rested my forehead against my desk, trying not to cry."Desmond Mellow, no sleeping in class," Mr. Power snapped. My head shot up, and I angrily gestured towards Ivan who was literally sleeping beside me, but Mr. Power turned a blind eye and continued distributing the rest of the papers.
***
"Desmond, Charlie, do you know that you two are the only students who failed this test?" asked Mr. Power, folding his arms over his chest."Well, now we do," I mumbled under my breath.The both of us had our heads hung down, shuffling our feet in embarrassment. He turned towards Charlie. "Charlie, I know that you aren't the smartest student in the class, but you normally get above average grades. What happened?"Charlie fiddled with his sleeves."I've been under a lot of stress and didn't have time to study," he explained quietly.
"What kind of stress?""Just small problems at home.""If they're 'just small problems', then you should be able to handle them. Stress isn't a valid excuse to fail school. Do you think any of our top universities will pick someone who crumbles under stress? Results like these are unacceptable, figuratively and literally. Now, don't cry, you put this upon yourself."There wasn't a trace of remorse on his face.
"This grade is unacceptable. Do you hear me, Charlie?" repeated Mr. Power, pointing his finger at him. I wanted to slap it away but tightened my fists and forced myself to remain calm, remembering what my mom told me.
No fighting, no fighting, no fighting..."I understand," Charlie sniffled, quickly wiping away his tears.
Mr. Power continued to scold Charlie, whose eyes watered again. I couldn't take it anymore.
"Mr. Power," I interrupted him. "I'm the one who got a three."
Excitement glimmered in Mr. Power's eyes, and I knew that he was more than happy to berate me. I didn't mind. I had directed his attention away from charlie. Charlie frowned when Mr. Power shot fires, but I discreetly tapped his shoe with mine to tell him it was okay.
"Yes, I am aware," he grumbled, finally turning towards me. "Remind me, which school were you originally from?""Junjay high."He raised his brows. "No wonder."I twitched but bit my tongue, remembering how I wasn't supposed to talk back to the teachers and be on my "best behavior." My old school didn't have the best reputation and was located in the shady part of town, known to be the place where all the delinquents and future drug dealers went to. I could have gone to a better high school since my grades in middle school were rather good, but I purposely chose to go to Junjay high.But it came with its consequences. I caught on bad habits which included sleeping in class and ditching most of them. It probably explained why I was so behind compared to the rest of my classmates, apart from the fact that the majority of them were born prodigies. "Mr. Mellow, did you even study for this test?"
"I did," I answered monotonously."Then try studying harder.""I am trying. That's all I've been doing! Trying!" is what I wanted to scream at him."I'll do better the next time," I apologized half-heartedly, but he didn't look convinced."I know that transferring to a new school isn't easy, but that isn't an excuse for you to get bad grades.""I... I know." "If you keep this up, then I'll have no other choice but to report you to the principal," he said grimly. My body stiffened, pursing my lips at the thought of being scolded by the principal, aka, my mom.
"This is what we're going to do," he said to both Charlie and me. "I'm going to assign two students to help you study. You'll retake the test with different questions, but I don't want to see such humiliating grades from my students ever again. Is that clear?" he instructed in a commanding voice."Xander Aldrick from class B has already offered to tutor me if I ever failed a test," Charlie said."Ah, Mr. Aldrick? I believe he comes second after Moonrich in the rankings, a brilliant student indeed," he grunted in approval. "Then I'll leave you in his hands, but I'm expecting greater things from you Charlie, I really am.""I won't disappoint you again.""You may return to class now."We both turned to leave, but Mr. Power called my name.
"Desmond, you stay here," he said, making me flinch. Charlie glanced towards me with a frown but I just gave him a small nod and smile. He hesitated at first but quickly scurried out of the office.I turned towards the teacher, straightening my back and putting my hands behind my back like a soldier."Sir?" I said in a dry voice."Desmond, correct me if I'm wrong, but do you perhaps have an older brother who used to attend this school?" he asked. My body stiffened.My stomach twisted into knots."Arthur Mellow," he said when I didn't reply. I nodded stiffly, and a smile grew on his face. Mr. Power never smiled."I knew that there was something about your last name that rung a bell!" He exclaimed excitedly. "Ah, Arthur Mellow, how could I forget such an amazing student?!" He murmured in awe. "How is he doing? Good, I suppose?" "We don't live together anymore. He moved out after he got a scholarship at Harvard," I mumbled flatly.
"As expected! I knew that he would achieve great things!"He opened the drawer, and I felt a stinging pain when he took out a handful of old exam papers that had familiar handwriting."Arthur let me keep these as correction examples for my students, I still use them to this day," he explained, even though I never asked. He stared at the papers in complete admiration, shaking his head in disbelief. "Perfect student, perfect grades, president of the student council, and captain of the swimming team. Mr. Harrison adored him; your brother won so many trophies for our school. And my, oh my, was he quite the looker."I didn't answer, eyes glued to the floor while my teacher continued to praise Arthur, talking about him as if he were his son. But he suddenly stopped, looking at me with a change of expression. The proud smile disappeared, replaced with a frown stapled at the corner of his lips. His gaze — one that I was way too familiar with — showed disappointment and dissatisfaction."Desmond, can't you be a little bit more like your older brother?" He asked, making my body stiffen. It wasn't as if I haven't heard these words before, it was just that I could never fully get used to hearing them. "Us teachers aren't expecting perfect grades, but we still expect a minimum of effort. And when I say minimum, I mean at least a C+," he said, rubbing his wrinkled forehead. "I don't understand how you can be so different to your brother."Hm, I dunno, let me think... Maybe, just maybe, it was because we were two completely different people?! "I understand that you're disappointed sir, but I don't think that it's necessary for you to compare me to my brother," I spoke in an icy, cold tone. He evinced his disappointment with an involuntary sigh. "Of course I don't expect you to exceed your brother seeing your grades, it's probably impossible, but..."He continued to lecture me but my mind eventually switched off. I stopped listening to what he was saying, occasionally nodding every now and then. This was exactly why I wanted to avoid coming to this school. I was happy in my old high school, an isolated area where no one knew of Arthur's existence or simply didn't care. A place where I didn't have to be shadowed by his achievements, where I wasn't constantly being compared to him, where people saw me for who I was and not the little brother of the perfect, flawless genius who got into Harvard.After 15 minutes of Mr. Power admiring Arthur and 15 minutes of telling me how worthless I was (in the most adult and polite way possible of course), he finally let me leave. Oh, but not before giving me some of my brother's old exam papers so that I could admire and worship them.I left the office.Once I closed the door behind me, I could feel tears suddenly fill up my eyes. I gritted my teeth, walking down the halls with my head tilted back to prevent them from escaping, taking in slow breaths to calm myself down. But the heavy feeling in my chest just wouldn't go away. Tears pricked my eyes, so I tilted my head back to stop them from running down my face.Don't cry, Desmond, don't you dare cry.But telling myself not to cry only made it worse. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings, and when I turned around the corner, I bumped into something hard. I lost my balance and fell on my bum, dropping all of Arthur's papers that scattered around me. I looked up, my eyes widening. I didn't bump into something, but someone.And that someone was Ivan Moonrich, the Class Bitch.
Teachers wrote what looked like gibberish on the board, but no one dared to ask questions when they didn't understand — including me — because nobody wanted to be that kid who slowed everyone down. I had too many essays, too much homework, too many projects, and not enough time. Oh, and don't get me started with the weekly tests that we had to do in an unrealistic amount of time. Our most recent one was: 'List down all the Spanish kings during the Golden Age, their date of birth and death, and explain why the Spanish Empire declined through time. You have 30 minutes'How did they expect us to answer that? I couldn't even remember what I ate last night!"Everyone who didn't get the average grade, please come to my office after class," said Mr. Power, who began handing out last week's test paper.Another problem was that teachers often did everything in alphabetical order, and it didn't help my ego that they often linked me with the smartest boy in our grade. I've been in Ivory High for a month, and the only time I have ever seen Ivan pick up a pen was during quizzes and tests. Regardless, he'd ace them.I watched as Mr. Power zigzagged around the room, mumbling, 'good', 'maybe next time', 'decent'. My heart raced each time he walked past me. I tried to wipe the sweat off my clammy hands against my jeans, but the friction only made it worse. Mr. Power stopped at my desk and slid me my paper, narrowing his eyes at me with that look of disdain."I'll see you after class, Desmond."I flinched when I saw my grade. 3/100. It felt like a punch to the gut.Mr. Power turned towards Ivan, and his face brightened immediately."Ah, Mr. Moonrich! Brilliant work, absolutely marvelous! The delicate choice of words brought out the eloquence of your arguments. It was a pleasure reading your paper, bravo, bravo."I craned my neck to peek at his grade. A 100/100 was circled in bright red. Ivan caught me glancing and lowered his gaze to see my grade in return. Flustered, I flipped it over, but it was too late. He had already seen it."Pfft," he snorted, not even trying to hide the fatuous superiority in his gaze. And then he returned to his usual sleeping position, resting his head on his arms without a care in the world. I sat there with parted lips.Did... Did he just laugh at me?My jaw tightened. A mix of embarrassment, humiliation, and my own disappointment made me see red."Hey, Desy, did you pass?" Charlie whispered, before I could shove Ivan off his chair."The teacher gave me three points for writing my name correctly," I mumbled."I didn't pass either," he said, showing me his 48/100. "We can go to the teacher's office together."I rested my forehead against my desk, trying not to cry."Desmond Mellow, no sleeping in class," Mr. Power snapped. My head shot up, and I angrily gestured towards Ivan who was literally sleeping beside me, but Mr. Power turned a blind eye and continued distributing the rest of the papers.
***
"Desmond, Charlie, do you know that you two are the only students who failed this test?" asked Mr. Power, folding his arms over his chest."Well, now we do," I mumbled under my breath.The both of us had our heads hung down, shuffling our feet in embarrassment. He turned towards Charlie. "Charlie, I know that you aren't the smartest student in the class, but you normally get above average grades. What happened?"Charlie fiddled with his sleeves."I've been under a lot of stress and didn't have time to study," he explained quietly.
"What kind of stress?""Just small problems at home.""If they're 'just small problems', then you should be able to handle them. Stress isn't a valid excuse to fail school. Do you think any of our top universities will pick someone who crumbles under stress? Results like these are unacceptable, figuratively and literally. Now, don't cry, you put this upon yourself."There wasn't a trace of remorse on his face.
"This grade is unacceptable. Do you hear me, Charlie?" repeated Mr. Power, pointing his finger at him. I wanted to slap it away but tightened my fists and forced myself to remain calm, remembering what my mom told me.
No fighting, no fighting, no fighting..."I understand," Charlie sniffled, quickly wiping away his tears.
Mr. Power continued to scold Charlie, whose eyes watered again. I couldn't take it anymore.
"Mr. Power," I interrupted him. "I'm the one who got a three."
Excitement glimmered in Mr. Power's eyes, and I knew that he was more than happy to berate me. I didn't mind. I had directed his attention away from charlie. Charlie frowned when Mr. Power shot fires, but I discreetly tapped his shoe with mine to tell him it was okay.
"Yes, I am aware," he grumbled, finally turning towards me. "Remind me, which school were you originally from?""Junjay high."He raised his brows. "No wonder."I twitched but bit my tongue, remembering how I wasn't supposed to talk back to the teachers and be on my "best behavior." My old school didn't have the best reputation and was located in the shady part of town, known to be the place where all the delinquents and future drug dealers went to. I could have gone to a better high school since my grades in middle school were rather good, but I purposely chose to go to Junjay high.But it came with its consequences. I caught on bad habits which included sleeping in class and ditching most of them. It probably explained why I was so behind compared to the rest of my classmates, apart from the fact that the majority of them were born prodigies. "Mr. Mellow, did you even study for this test?"
"I did," I answered monotonously."Then try studying harder.""I am trying. That's all I've been doing! Trying!" is what I wanted to scream at him."I'll do better the next time," I apologized half-heartedly, but he didn't look convinced."I know that transferring to a new school isn't easy, but that isn't an excuse for you to get bad grades.""I... I know." "If you keep this up, then I'll have no other choice but to report you to the principal," he said grimly. My body stiffened, pursing my lips at the thought of being scolded by the principal, aka, my mom.
"This is what we're going to do," he said to both Charlie and me. "I'm going to assign two students to help you study. You'll retake the test with different questions, but I don't want to see such humiliating grades from my students ever again. Is that clear?" he instructed in a commanding voice."Xander Aldrick from class B has already offered to tutor me if I ever failed a test," Charlie said."Ah, Mr. Aldrick? I believe he comes second after Moonrich in the rankings, a brilliant student indeed," he grunted in approval. "Then I'll leave you in his hands, but I'm expecting greater things from you Charlie, I really am.""I won't disappoint you again.""You may return to class now."We both turned to leave, but Mr. Power called my name.
"Desmond, you stay here," he said, making me flinch. Charlie glanced towards me with a frown but I just gave him a small nod and smile. He hesitated at first but quickly scurried out of the office.I turned towards the teacher, straightening my back and putting my hands behind my back like a soldier."Sir?" I said in a dry voice."Desmond, correct me if I'm wrong, but do you perhaps have an older brother who used to attend this school?" he asked. My body stiffened.My stomach twisted into knots."Arthur Mellow," he said when I didn't reply. I nodded stiffly, and a smile grew on his face. Mr. Power never smiled."I knew that there was something about your last name that rung a bell!" He exclaimed excitedly. "Ah, Arthur Mellow, how could I forget such an amazing student?!" He murmured in awe. "How is he doing? Good, I suppose?" "We don't live together anymore. He moved out after he got a scholarship at Harvard," I mumbled flatly.
"As expected! I knew that he would achieve great things!"He opened the drawer, and I felt a stinging pain when he took out a handful of old exam papers that had familiar handwriting."Arthur let me keep these as correction examples for my students, I still use them to this day," he explained, even though I never asked. He stared at the papers in complete admiration, shaking his head in disbelief. "Perfect student, perfect grades, president of the student council, and captain of the swimming team. Mr. Harrison adored him; your brother won so many trophies for our school. And my, oh my, was he quite the looker."I didn't answer, eyes glued to the floor while my teacher continued to praise Arthur, talking about him as if he were his son. But he suddenly stopped, looking at me with a change of expression. The proud smile disappeared, replaced with a frown stapled at the corner of his lips. His gaze — one that I was way too familiar with — showed disappointment and dissatisfaction."Desmond, can't you be a little bit more like your older brother?" He asked, making my body stiffen. It wasn't as if I haven't heard these words before, it was just that I could never fully get used to hearing them. "Us teachers aren't expecting perfect grades, but we still expect a minimum of effort. And when I say minimum, I mean at least a C+," he said, rubbing his wrinkled forehead. "I don't understand how you can be so different to your brother."Hm, I dunno, let me think... Maybe, just maybe, it was because we were two completely different people?! "I understand that you're disappointed sir, but I don't think that it's necessary for you to compare me to my brother," I spoke in an icy, cold tone. He evinced his disappointment with an involuntary sigh. "Of course I don't expect you to exceed your brother seeing your grades, it's probably impossible, but..."He continued to lecture me but my mind eventually switched off. I stopped listening to what he was saying, occasionally nodding every now and then. This was exactly why I wanted to avoid coming to this school. I was happy in my old high school, an isolated area where no one knew of Arthur's existence or simply didn't care. A place where I didn't have to be shadowed by his achievements, where I wasn't constantly being compared to him, where people saw me for who I was and not the little brother of the perfect, flawless genius who got into Harvard.After 15 minutes of Mr. Power admiring Arthur and 15 minutes of telling me how worthless I was (in the most adult and polite way possible of course), he finally let me leave. Oh, but not before giving me some of my brother's old exam papers so that I could admire and worship them.I left the office.Once I closed the door behind me, I could feel tears suddenly fill up my eyes. I gritted my teeth, walking down the halls with my head tilted back to prevent them from escaping, taking in slow breaths to calm myself down. But the heavy feeling in my chest just wouldn't go away. Tears pricked my eyes, so I tilted my head back to stop them from running down my face.Don't cry, Desmond, don't you dare cry.But telling myself not to cry only made it worse. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings, and when I turned around the corner, I bumped into something hard. I lost my balance and fell on my bum, dropping all of Arthur's papers that scattered around me. I looked up, my eyes widening. I didn't bump into something, but someone.And that someone was Ivan Moonrich, the Class Bitch.
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