My name came up in the rich boys’ adventure game at this elite school. A week later, Sebastian Kingsley, the school’s top student, confessed his feelings to me. Flattered beyond belief, I agreed to be his girlfriend. For an entire semester, he doted on me completely, showering me with affection. Everyone envied me for winning Sebastian’s love. But right before the SATs, he broke up with me. I knew they wanted to watch me break down and fall into depression like all the other girls, forcing me to drop out in shame. But I took the SATs as planned. Holding my Harvard acceptance letter, I smiled at them and said, “Thanks for all your help this year. I’m off to college now.” ***** The teacher announced, “Students who need to apply for financial aid, please come to my office after class to fill out the forms.” Alexis Foster, the cheerleading captain who delighted in tormenting me, suggested, “Why don’t we have the students applying for aid explain their reasons now? That way everyone can provide targeted support later.” The teacher nodded. “Sophia, go ahead and share.” I stood up expressionlessly and calmly described just how poor I was in front of all fifty-plus classmates. When the bell rang, the quiet classroom erupted into chatter. Alexis walked over to me and casually tossed ten dollars on the floor. “Your mother abandoned you, and your disabled father lives on welfare. You only managed to pay tuition thanks to church donations. Sophia, you’re so pathetic. If I were you, I would’ve killed myself already—at least I wouldn’t have to live so miserably. Lucky for you I’m kind-hearted. Here’s ten bucks for you—should keep your dad going for a week, right?” I’d grown accustomed to how the elite humiliated those beneath them. Alexis particularly despised me because my appearance somewhat resembled hers. I bent down, picked up the money, and put it in my pocket. Smiling, I said, “Thanks for your generosity, Alexis.” Now I could add a burger to today’s lunch. Studying was so exhausting, and surviving on just a dollar’s worth of fries left me hungry quickly. After pocketing the money, I tried to walk around her and leave. I needed to hurry to the restroom, then get back to studying. But Alexis pushed me back into my seat and leaned in close. In a voice only we could hear, she said, “Don’t mention it. That’s not all I can do for you. I’ve got a big surprise waiting!” The next day, I discovered what that so-called surprise was. Popular guys at school were actually coming up to talk to me, despite my obvious lack of Alexis’s beauty. A football hit me, and the handsome Ethan came running over. He smiled and said, “Sorry about that! Are you okay?” At first, I didn’t notice anything unusual—I thought it was just an accident. But Ethan was unusually enthusiastic, grabbing my arm to keep me from leaving. He said, “You should go to the nurse’s office for a check-up, or I’ll worry about you. Or we could exchange contact info. If you feel any discomfort, just reach out—I’ll take full responsibility.” Since entering this elite private school, I’d never experienced genuine kindness. The gap between the poor and rich was enormous. Because my poverty was so conspicuous, I became an anomaly that needed to be eliminated in my classmates’ eyes. Leading the charge against me was rich girl Alexis. She started by rallying everyone to isolate me. Then they threw my textbooks in the sink, deliberately crashed into me during sports, and scrawled “Sophia is a slut” on the locker room walls. I’d long grown accustomed to this hostile environment. This sudden kindness didn’t fill me with joy—it only made me twice as cautious. In that moment, I suddenly realized this must be the big surprise Alexis had mentioned. So I politely declined Ethan’s offer. I needed to figure out what game they were playing before I could plan my response.
After school, I quietly followed Alexis. Outside the empty student activity center, I overheard her conversation with that group of rich kids. Ethan said dejectedly, “I failed.” The guys burst into mocking laughter. “Wow, Ethan’s charm isn’t working? Can’t even score a girl who gets free lunch?” “Don’t lose heart, Ethan. You’re the legend who got three girls to have abortions for you. Nobody’s gonna look down on you for one failure.” Alexis wasn’t in the mood for jokes. She said, “You drew Sophia’s name in the dare game. Someone has to win her over, then destroy her when she’s at her happiest.” Those rich boys who usually carried themselves with such grace now revealed their twisted faces. “Don’t worry. We’ve gotten all those other girls before. Sophia won’t be any different.” “Exactly. With so many of us, someone’s bound to succeed.” “We still have our ace in the hole. Sebastian can definitely handle it.” Alexis suddenly shouted, “No! Sebastian can’t go.” Everyone got excited. “Whoa, Miss Foster’s getting jealous?” “She’s that possessive?” The activity room was noisy inside. Standing outside the door, I kept replaying that name in my mind, clenching my fists. I thought, “Sebastian, so you’re one of them too. This is just perfect.” Over the next few days, my suitors suddenly multiplied. All types of rich boys started pursuing me—gentle and caring ones, mature and steady ones, mysterious ones, wild and rebellious ones, polite and refined ones… They found various excuses to approach me, all with the same goal of asking me out. And I would always refuse woodenly: “Sorry, I need to go to the library to study.” For twelfth-grade students, there was no more perfect excuse than that. I often recalled their disappointed expressions during study breaks, never getting tired of it. My happiness clearly infuriated Alexis. Her bullying tactics became even more vicious. She cut my hair with scissors and stabbed my back with thumbtacks. Alexis pushed me into the swimming pool, then smeared super glue all over the handrails. To escape the trap, I had to endure the pain of putting on clothes with my bloody hands. These rich kids’ creativity was endless. They were experts at inflicting harm without leaving evidence. And their families donated libraries and gymnasiums to the school every year. As long as they didn’t kill anyone, the teachers turned a blind eye to their behavior. I silently endured their bullying just like I had for the past three years. A week later on Monday, I finally encountered the person I’d been waiting to see. The school’s most outstanding student, Sebastian, appeared in the empty library. He sat quietly beside me for a long time, then finally pointed to my AP Chemistry test paper and reminded me softly, “This problem is wrong. Potassium dichromate is a strong oxidizing agent—you can’t store it in an alkaline burette.”
I transferred from a small-town public school to this elite private high school. At my old school, I had always been the top student. I thought I was exceptionally gifted and brilliant. I could quickly grasp whatever the teachers explained, and homework was always a breeze. But after transferring, I bombed my first exam. I experienced what it felt like to have my confidence completely shattered. I had always believed that learning ability was an innate talent—my only ticket to changing my destiny. It wasn’t until I left that remote small town that I realized I was just another ordinary person among the masses. With grades like mine, even state universities seemed out of reach. So I threw myself into studying with everything I had. I was isolated, bullied—I didn’t care about any of it. For me, GPA was the only thing that mattered. Through relentless effort, I managed to climb into the top 50, then hit a wall. That’s when I finally understood that some things can’t be achieved through hard work alone—too many external factors determine success or failure. My father, Tom Johnson, had sent me to this high school because he’d heard about their exceptional faculty. This high school was indeed far superior to our small-town school. But even within the same school, educational resources weren’t distributed equally. The finest teaching resources were concentrated in the honors classes. Every student in the honors classes came from prestigious families with distinguished backgrounds. They enjoyed top-tier educational resources and had private tutors who were Ivy League graduates helping them after school. Children who were cherished by their entire families naturally weren’t people like me—someone living on scholarships—could easily surpass. Their grades firmly occupied the top 50 spots on the honor roll, leaving me in the dust. And Sebastian was the best among them. I was very familiar with his name. He had a mysterious and distinguished family background, strikingly handsome looks, and the highest academic achievements. Even though Sebastian had a cold personality, he was still crowned the “Ivy Star” and was every girl’s dream prince charming. I admired him too. Having such a golden boy come into my life because of a malicious game was actually wonderful. That secluded old library study room became Sebastian’s and my secret hideaway. Every day after school, we would show up there one after another with perfect timing, not disturbing each other, each focused on our own studies. Whenever I got stuck on AP Calculus problems, he would quietly move closer and explain the concepts to me. Sebastian truly lived up to his reputation as the school’s top student. His problem-solving approach was always clear and concise—even the most complex problems became simple under his guidance. There’s something especially attractive about a guy when he’s focused. Sebastian looked captivating when he was reading with his head down. As he wrote out formulas, his handwriting was beautiful, carrying an innate confidence. I was mesmerized watching him. Suddenly, Sebastian gently tapped my forehead with his pen, pretending to be annoyed as he said, “What are you thinking about?” I reached up and lightly touched his eyelid, saying, “You have a mole here by your eye.” The mole was light brown, hidden above his eye where it was hard to notice. Sebastian froze, then broke into a gorgeous smile. I snapped back to reality, quickly pulled my hand back, and pretended to read my book. But my face had turned red from embarrassment. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting our shadows on the desk. Dust particles dancing in the golden rays were like my uncontrollable emotions with nowhere to hide. On such a warm afternoon, Sebastian suddenly said, “Sophia, will you be my girlfriend?”
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