How It All Started

ALMOST TEN YEARS AGO

GWENETH 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

I kept on tossing and turning in bed. Sleep eluding me. It proves so difficult to just shut my eyes and pretend to sleep even for a mere second because my brain is intensely clinging to the fact that I will be attending one of the best schools in the country a few hours from now.

I giggle silly to myself and kick my legs up in the air excitedly and kicking my blanket off in the process. The night cold seeping through my skin only adds to my joy.

That was not enough. I stand on my bed and jump up, I put my hands over my mouth so I would not scream out loud and disturb all the others that must soundly asleep. I stop after a few jumps because my bed is starting to make creaking noises. The excitement coursing through my veins is also blending with an undercurrent of fear and nervousness.

It is almost too much to contain. The fear and nervousness surpasses the excitement when I have a thought.

What if I am still alienated like in middle school? That would make me a loner all over again.

Krohn’s Highschool is so way out of my league. Someone like me cannot ever dream of attending such a school if it wasn’t for the fact that I was smart enough to get the scholarship.

The students who just attend from their own pockets are crazy rich. I am fervently hoping it would not actually be like what I see in those highschool plot movies. The ones that shows when students are intensely particular about social class and hierarchy.

And the kind when an average student gets bullied by some annoying jock or quarterback. Or by a queen bee or a cheerleader because she finds out that the average student has a crush on her boyfriend who is equally the hottest guy in school. But then I think that none of that

would happen to me—not even remotely. Because I can keep my head down and be invisible. I read the room than anyone else. Knowing when it is safe to speak and when it is not. I read that it is called traumatic intelligence.

Having people’s attention scares me. In middle school, nothing scared me more than being called to the front of the class by the teacher to solve a math problem or read a part from a book.

The math and book problem are not the problem. The problem is having to stand in a place and a position where everyone can see me.

I can also keep my thoughts to myself. I’m not loud and opinionated like most people. I prefer my thoughts to stay within me. That is like my superpower.

There was this girl in my class when I was in middle school, Brenda. She said she had almost forgot that I was in the same class as her—that I even existed at all. It was true. She had said it condescendingly though. But I did not pick offense. I told her that I liked it that way.

You are barely noticed when you are invisible. With that, trouble cannot find itself to you unless you really go looking for it. What could go wrong now? I will just do what I have always done. Be a wallflower or a small road that even Google map cannot find no matter how good it upgrades.

I do not have any plans of dating in school. School, teenage romance is struck out.

So no cheerleader or popular school queen would come at me for being with, or accuse me of trying to steal her boyfriend. What kind of a guy would even show interest in me anyway? It is fine. I have made peace with being the least sought product on the supermarket aisle. And I really like it that way. It no longer gnaws and pangs at you when you admit it to yourself.

From the little research I did about the school on my mom’s laptop, I do not need to be told that I cannot compare to those hot-looking rich brats. So the wise fact is I should not even try.

I can’t afford distractions. This scholarship is one of my most biggest achievements. Well, it is my only achievement. But it will be a road that will set me up for many more. All I have to do is get and maintain excellent grades. Then Krohn’s University would be a one-way ticket get-in.

Then I will get the chance to study medicine and be a nurse or a doctor in the future.

In my mind’s eye, I see myself in a mature office setting, giving medical advise to a patient. It feels so real. Why can’t I just transmigrate and time travel into the future to be that instead of having to study crazy hard for it? Not that the studying crazy aspect is bad. Stressing is almost fun and easy when you are working towards achieving a goal.

So Krohn’s . . . . . here I come. Distractions? Nah. Never.

My eyes glance at the time on the small alarm clock on top of my small shelf. 1:36am. I still have freaking four hours and twenty-four minutes to go. Why is the time so slow? I wish I had some kind of magic to turn the time and make morning come sooner. It is annoying how time seems to be crawling like a snail when one is expecting and waiting.

I hear a sharp, angry holler in my sleep. The intensity and loudness of a loud bang. My sleep crumbles instantly and I jerk up immediately like I had just fallen out of a terrible nightmare. "You brat! What are you still doing home?" That is my mom’s voice. "Why? It is not yet time. My alarm hasn’t rung yet." I say groggily. Sleep still hanging on my mind like a dense fog. "It is past 6am you!" "Hmmm? That can’t be. . .right. Oh shit!" My eyes bulged out when I see that it is true. I practically flew into the bathroom. I take a very quick shower and brushed for like thirty seconds. I then throw on a dress, grab my school bag and rush out downstairs to the dinning room. Mom, and Dad were having breakfast. "Good morning Mom, Morning Dad. Where is Percy?" I ask for my baby brother when I don’t see him at the table with mom. Usually he would be on her lap, or in his babysitter babbling baby language while mom feeds him. "Asleep. He is the only one licensed to sleep in, in this house." She says. "Very funny." I say muffly, my mouth full of pancakes I was scarfing down. I wanted to skip and go without. But I figured I would need a full stomach and energy to face the unknown. Being later would not do me any more harm. Hopefully.

"Are you done? Eat more." Dad urges when I put down my half eaten pancakes back down on the plate. I shake my head negatively and gurgled the glass of freshly blended orange juice down my throat. I was forced to put it down when I get an uncomfortable feeling. Not today. Not now. It is sort of a normal stuff for me. It happens when I drink too fast. I started coughing violently. I felt my throat closing up and a liquid running down my nose. All this while, my Dad was freaking out and running around searching for some tissues which he finds and hands to me. Mom was just sitting and eating calmly but giving me that ’Not again’ look. "I get that you are late. But do you have to choke yourself?" Dad asked worriedly with concern. "With how late she is, I’m surprised that she is even eating."

"Honey?" Dad calls for her to caution her words. But Mom doesn’t take the hint because insensitive is her middle name. Always rubbing in. Always pointing out the worst. "What Anthony? I am saying the truth." She says in her defense. Facing me, she continues, "First impression says a lot. And you are going to give them the impression that you are tardy. You could get on scholarship probation because of this." She saltily remarks. I gloomily say bye and head out of the house. Dad calls out my name.

I look back, he is running after me. "Gweneth get in the car. I’II drive you to school." He says.

"It is somewhat pathetic taking the subway on your first day. And I heard from my colleagues how that is a rich kid’s school.

Won’t you be seen as less if you arrive on foot?" I smile widely. The only person who ever truly understands me is him. To think he is just supposed to be my stepdad. I do not think my actual dad—if he was around and present in my life would have been half as considerate of me as Anthony Calloway.