James had studied the entire night like a fanatic, stealing only an hour or two of sleep. He woke with bloodshot eyes, suffering not just from the intense cramming but from the constant nightmares that had repeatedly jolted him awake the moment his exhausted eyes began to close.
Regardless, he was earlier than expected. He rushed out, his heavy bag a burden on his back, his mind a whirlwind of facts and fatigue.
"Oh! What have you done to yourself?" Serena exclaimed, instantly seeing the crimson rims around his eyes. "You don't even know if the event is today, yet you did this! If it is today, are you even stable enough to participate? Why do you have to be so foolish?"
It was obvious to Serena that James hadn't slept; he had sacrificed the night.
"I'm fine, Mom. I'm totally fine!" James insisted, grabbing her cheeks with gentle but firm hands. "My eyes will soon return to normal."
Serena's face softened into a familiar, painful sadness. She knew arguing was pointless. All she could do was offer a last moment of comfort.
"Don't bother going to Cradenville. The bus will drop her off. Good luck, son." She stood on the walkway, her worry a physical weight, as she watched the taxi carry her exhausted son away.
James arrived at Braxton and swiftly clipped his tag onto his neck, determined not to be detained. He entered the gates and saw the mass of students flowing toward a single destination. He quickly maneuvered through the crowd, spotting Kelvin's blue-haired head bobbing in the distance.
"Hey! Do you have any idea where we're going?" James asked, catching up.
"Isn't it obvious? We're heading to the assembly hall to learn more of the scholarship event," Kelvin replied with forced flippancy.
Just then, a blonde beauty called out to them.
"Kelvin! James! Wait up." It was Priscilla. "I made it in time," she said, flashing a brilliant smile that threatened to melt the tension from James's sleepless night.
"Burned the midnight candle, huh?" Kelvin asked after giving James a quick glance.
James only nodded in approval, refusing to utter more words. He had something more important to think about.
The crowd finally settled in the hall, eyes glued to the stage. When the principal, Williams Jones, finally cleared his throat, the hall fell into an electric silence.
"Good day, students! I know some of you weren't here yesterday, so I will briefly repeat the important news. After that, you will return to your classes for an evaluation to meet the requirements of the event."
Williams briefly reiterated the yesterday's news, plus the astonishing reward—a full, till-Grade-12 scholarship—before dismissing them for the evaluation.
The test, focused on Geography and History, took place across all ten Grade 10 classes (10A to 10J). Each class was assigned a teacher to select the five best-performing students.
Soon, all Grade 10 students were recalled to the assembly hall. The atmosphere had sharpened; this was the moment of truth.
"In my hand here is the list of the top five performing students in their classes who are qualified for the competition," Eric Brayden announced, walking to the front of the stage, the paper in his hand suddenly seeming like a legal document of fate.
The hearts of some students sank; they knew they hadn't made the cut. Others, usually nonchalant, wealthy students, simply wished to leave, the reward meaning nothing to their families.
Whispers zipped through the hall. "Hey, do you think the new boy will be part of it?"
James stiffened, thinking they meant him, until the reply came: "The one Eric blabbers about, or the other?"
"There's another new student?" someone else asked, stunned.
"Yeah, he resumed this morning and took the test in our class, 10F."
"Please, as you hear your name, come to the stage," Eric spoke into the microphone, instantly silencing the murmurings. He began reading the names, moving class by class.
"From Grade 10A, we have; Dylan Wilson, Robert Cook, Sunny Gomez... " Eric kept calling in that fashion from Grade 10A to Grade 10 J.
As expected, James, Kelvin, and Priscilla were all named among the top five from Grade 10B. James walked to the stage, his head bowed, staring blankly at the polished floor, listening to the monotonous call of names.
Then, the monotony shattered. Eric read a name that ripped through James's exhaustion and his carefully constructed composure.
James snapped his head up, his bloodshot eyes frantically searching the sea of students.
He found him.
James's face instantly crumpled into a mask of pure, visceral hatred. He clenched his fists, forcing his hands into shaking, painful knots. The veins in his hands bulged, looking dangerously close to rupturing.
This alarming physical reaction did not go unnoticed by Kelvin and Priscilla beside him.
"What's wrong, James?" Kelvin quickly whispered, fear edging his voice.
The question only amplified the throbbing rage. A specific, agonizing memory—of betrayal, ruin, and the destruction of his life in Middleton—flared in James's mind, tightening the vice on his sanity.
The figure approaching the stage was tall and unnervingly muscular, his black buzz haircut accentuating a wide jaw and a body built like tank. Undeniably your favorite kindof model.
He approached James with a slow, oily, creepy smile plastered across his face.
The closer he got, the more violently James fought for control, every instinct screaming at him to pounce.
"I will never forget... I will never forget what you did to me and my family, Jeremy," James muttered to himself, the name a raw wound torn open, barely audible, but vibrating with a deep, savage hatred.
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