Ch. (0,2): Limits of Student X

I was called to answer a physics problem on the board after lunch. My knees were shaking, and I looked like I was dancing with my violet pants costume on. I stood on the board and held a piece of chalk… I was supposed to calculate how much work was done on multiple objects with many external forces acting upon them. But all the work I could do was hold that chalk.

"Are you just going to stare at the board, Mr. Lee?" The Physics teacher asked, frowning as he looked at the time displayed on the analog wall clock above us. He quickly estimated the time that had passed. "Seriously, it has been over four minutes. Can you answer the question on the board?"

I shrugged my head. I couldn't do it.

"You just transferred, right?" He asked again, and I nodded in response.

"Where did you come from exactly?" He asked, and I froze. Well, not that frozen since I was shaking in fear and shame, but still, I couldn't bring myself to speak of the name of that school which could never be compared to this institution.

The class representative did it for me, though. He raised his hand and told everything he knew about my school, which he learned from eavesdropping in the teacher's office, and a little about what I told him. I knew Warren Kang was a snake species of a teacher's pet, but I didn't think he'd bite me after we had had a good meal together.

"Oh, then how did you get into Rosevale International School, Mr. Lee? Did you really pass the admission exam?" He asked with poise and calmness in his tone, but his sarcasm was evident even to a fool like me.

In case it wasn't obvious, I'm pretty sensitive. Of course, I was hurt.

Yet, they were right... I did not take an exam to enter this oh-so-glorious school. As far as I know, we don't have the money to pay for my studies here either. I'm also baffled why I'm here. Not surprisingly, Warren Kang was not as confused as me. He went on and answered the question, "Teacher Han, he was admitted especially by the headmaster."

"Ahh. I get it. Sit down, Mr. Lee. Next time, review your notes before coming to my class." He let me go just like that. I thought I'd be calmer if I turned back and went to my seat, but my classmates looked at me with derision. Some couldn't even hold their laugh, mocking my display of stupidity.

When I got home, I immediately demanded to be transferred to a regular school. My dad has already put our things together— he had also made dinner when I arrived. I threw the heavy books on the sofa with my bag. "I don't want to stay in that school. Transfer me to a normal public school, please!!!"

Dad took his apron off and never bothered to talk to me as he put the food he cooked on the table.

"Did you not hear me?! I said, transfer me to another school! Why would you enroll me in a fancy private school for rich kids? Can we even afford that?! I don't want to go there!!!"

I was fuming with anger, and I could only converse by shouting to get through to him. I'm not like this. I usually get what I want, even without yelling. Still, I am at a point where whatever I say no longer matters, so I guess it's my way to protest.

"Is that how you're going to talk to me now? Have you forgotten to at least call me 'dad' before you shout in my face?" Dad placed his apron on the countertop— he clenched his hand, gripping that piece of cloth with so much force as shown in his bulging veins.

I know my dad's angry at me for snitching on him. He asked for my forgiveness, but I know he wouldn't even consider forgiving me.

I felt my chest tightening up, and I couldn't bring myself to call him 'dad' in front of him. So I walked out and slammed the door shut in my room. I wanted to grab my inhaler, but it was inside the bag I had left in the living room. I also have spares, but they're still inside these tightly sealed boxes I still need to unpack. So, to breathe, I just opened the windows. But it's still suffocating me so much.

My chest hurts.

I'm not bright like the other kids. And indeed, I'm not rich either. I don't have what it takes to survive there, but why did they insist on making me go there? Since when did they care about the quality of education I'm getting?

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and drew my complicated cell phone lock screen pattern. I clicked on the You-Boo app and opened a chat box with one of the people with whom I chatted on this app. Most of them ditched me when they learned I was not there for hook-ups. While there were a few that I ditched because they were very pushy and horny. I might be gay, but I don't take pleasure in collecting small, bent, and hooded dick pics. I still have what they call a 'measure of standards'!

I clicked on the username of someone I matched— 'Cig.' In his profile picture, he had a cigarette hanging on his semi-parted lips. His jawline is very sexy, he has broad shoulders, and his Adam's apple is so tempting— I fantasized about biting it once in my dream. I don't know if this man in the profile picture is really Cig, but it doesn't hurt to think I'm talking to the man with a dreamy neck like that. I thought I wouldn't leave that small town, so I never considered meeting Cig. With that, I knew that even if I was being catfished, no harm would be done.

I looked at our recent chat— actually, my chats! Cig was one of those who stopped messaging me after I told him that I don't do hook-ups. He must have blocked me already, so he never responded to my messages. I didn't have anyone to talk to about many things, so I kept messaging Cig about the things that hurt my chest, despite knowing that I was just probably talking to myself.

I typed on the keyboard of my phone these words: "Hi, Cig. I transferred to this prestigious school today. It's the second place that made me feel so stupid and ignorant next to my own home. I couldn't answer a physics problem, and my teacher probably thought I got into that school because of my connections. It's pretty funny because I, myself, don't know how I got there. I'm very stupid! I couldn't understand the things that were written on the board. I don't know if it's just me or just that the teachers explain things very fast. I can't keep up with their pace. I also hate the smell of my seatmate, and I'm always on the edge of my seat because I'm afraid of offending him. I had a tough day... and I don't know how to survive the following days ahead."

Then, after that, I spent the next few productive hours of my life lying on my bed, scrolling through some profiles of random men on a few apps. I calmed down and forgot my daddy issues after messaging Cig. But it was most probably because I was desensitized after looking at the contents generated by the algorithm— six packs abs, hot thirst traps, and couples bragging about a day in their lives. It was the gayest escapism method, I know, but my mom brought me back to this horrible reality when she opened my door with her master key.

"I heard you wanted to transfer," She barged in, and I quickly closed those apps on my phone. "The headmaster of Rosevale is my friend. He's doing us a lot of favors. So, stop with your tantrums, eat, and pick up your books. Rosevale is not like your former school. You need to study if you want to fit in." She basically explained how I got into that school even though I didn't have the qualifications.

As it turns out, Warren Kang was right... I have a strong connection with no less than the school's headmaster. "I've been through a lot, Sky. Don't embarrass me again, will you?" She massaged the crease between her brows. After saying that, she left, expecting me to do precisely as she spoke.

My mom looked so tired and stressed. It must be her work and this terrible marriage she's trying to keep. Or it must be her uncooperative son who's only good at embarrassing her.

I went out and took my things lying on the coffee table now. My dad was sitting there writing his cover letter, and he reminded me to eat. To spite him, I didn't eat, but I did try to hit on those books and read. And I realized there's just so much gap between what I know and what they're discussing now. We don't have a specialized science program at my former school... heck I'm so behind in Chemistry, Physics, Calculus, Biology, English, Linguistics, and even History.

How am I supposed to catch up?

It was 1 o'clock, and some of the lights outside the neighborhood were already turned off. I just stared at the pages despite not having a photographic memory. I stared and read without comprehending what was said in those books. I've been trying so hard to hold up my tears for a long time, but I could only cry now. That's all I'm able to do.

Ugghhhh!!!!

I'm not smart; I know. I pulled my phone off its charging cable and opened my chat box with Cig again. I know he's never going to read what I'm about to send him like my other messages for almost a year, but I will send it anyway.

Durian Candy (my username): "Hey, Cig. If you read all my chats, you would have known that I wasn't only complaining all the time. I did try my best to get by. I kept quiet for so long, I also put everything I could do to keep my family together. I've been struggling for so long just to keep living. But I'm really, really tired. I've gotten tired of it all. And please don't judge me if I'm like this just because I can't solve a Physics problem. But I really can't do it anymore."

I closed the book and looked beyond my windows. I did not decide on this overnight... It's always been at the back of my head... failed all my attempts, but I'm definitely burnt out now to keep going for sure.

I opened my account and changed my profile settings. First, I edited my username: I erased the stinky Durian. Now, it's just 'Candy.'

Second, I went to the bathroom, took off my top, and took many pictures. I tried to pick what to use, but all seemed like a trying-hard brat. Just when I almost lost it, I remembered why I kept messaging Cig out of all who blocked me… it was because of that damned hot profile picture.

I opened the cabinet and saw some meds and vitamin C tablets… I was so elated when I saw that. I took one of the orange tablets, put it on my tongue, and then took photos. The sluttier, the better. And I pick the one showing me biting the med while revealing some of my neck, collarbone, and a glimpse of my nipple at the bottom. It was sexy—dare I say— and it was good enough to hide my face.

After putting my clothes on, I changed my old profile picture of my cartoony self-portrait into that sweet tempting slutty pic of me.

And finally, the last setting I changed was making my location public. This simply meant I was endorsing to other users that I was looking for one-night stands nearby.