He grabbed my arm excitedly. “Pinky swear?” I held up three fingers and swore a solemn oath. He sighed, relieved, and slung an arm around my shoulder. “Don’t forget me when you’re famous!” “If I get lucky and publish some groundbreaking physics paper, I’ll put you in mine, too!”
I got home around eleven. Not too late. I
decided to read a couple of chapters of The
Princeton Companion before bed. But Jessica
was losing it, claiming the sound of pages
turning was keeping her awake. This from the
girl who used to revel in my futile all–nighters
when I was failing. She pounded on my door.
“Ashley! You’re wasting your time! You’ll never
be better than me! Give up! Besides, you’re so
<
84
ugly now. No guy will ever want you! Men
conquer the world. Women conquer men. Get it?”
I didn’t get it. Why couldn’t women conquer the world? Wasn’t that way more interesting than conquering some guy? Especially a guy like Ethan, who was second to last in our class. What world was he going to conquer?
“Jessica, some people are born with a silver spoon in their mouth, you were born with your foot in your mouth. It’s the 21st century! Haven’t you heard of gender equality?”
I swear I heard the system say, “You go, girl!” in an indignant tone. Speaking of which, why
was the system helping me? And why hadn’t it
told Jessica about the consent thing?
“Sys, Sys, are you there? I have a question.” I
whispered, hoping for some answers. The aloof
system remained silent. Fine. System’s mind,
deep as the ocean. Unreadable.
In math class, Mr. Jones was going over the
practice SAT, “Starting from the front, third
row, each of you explain one multiple–choice question.”
My turn. The last question. The one with the wrong answer. “First off, the answer key’s wrong. It’s not B, it’s D. The third step should be…”
Mr. Jones cut me off, irritated. “What is it with
you two sisters? One never studies, the other finally shows some improvement and starts
arguing with the answer key.” “Just read the
solution. I checked it. It’s correct.” He was
clearly taking out his frustration with Jessica on
- me.
Before I could respond, Professor Chen and
Alex appeared at the door. The principal, Mr.
Lee, practically bowed as he ushered them in.
Professor Chen clapped Mr. Lee on the
༈ །། “༦༑༑ ་་་ས་
<
shoulder, a smug look on his face. “Lee, you’ve
done well for yourself! You were the least promising student in my ’87 graduate class. Now look at you, principal of Southwood High.”
Mr. Lee, glancing at me, quickly changed the subject. “Young lady, arguing with your teacher is unacceptable. Sit down.” He addressed the class. “Professor Chen has an important lecture
