On my way to school I wondered if there would be a morning Assembly.
I never liked morning assemblies—they were boring and unnecessary. Every one of them back in secondary school consisted of the principal making announcements or scolding the students. To prolong the session, they would have a student say a prayer for everyone in attendance.
Then it would end with us singing the national anthem. The only time I found any joy in it was when it ate into our class time. Other than that, the whole event felt utterly pointless.
I hoped we had moved on from such mundane things. The ISC was supposed to be like a college, and on top of that, most of us were around 17 years old. Wouldn't a morning assembly just treat us like children?
Having to sit through another one might make me explode. Besides, I had more pressing matters to think about. Although I hadn't been here long, I needed to make connections as soon as possible. I didn't know much about the ISC, but from what I'd read online, it was a serious school that constantly tested your ability to cheat.
If I wanted to survive, I needed a few people to work with. Cheaters tend to work better together than alone. After all, no one is perfect at cheating.
The night before, I had tried to picture how I could prove my worth. Maybe I could show off my skills by scoring high on the first test. Or maybe I could demonstrate my ability to hide chips of paper with answers in my hair.
I had thought of a lot of things, but most of them were just random ideas I'd never tried. Besides, my hair was short, so I couldn't hide anything in my head.
I sighed as I realized I had reached the classrooms. It wasn't worth overthinking. All I could do now was to go with the flow.
The building was four stories tall, but since I was a first-year, my class would be on the ground floor.
The school presented itself like a college, but for some reason, we didn't get to choose most of our subjects, and we were placed in set classes—just like in secondary school.
Thankfully, we didn't have to attend any obnoxious morning assembly.
I strolled into Class 1-Yearwood and took a seat at the very back, next to the window.
The class was mostly empty. One student was asleep as if they'd had a long night. Another was listening to music—I could tell from the occasional bob of their head. A small group sat at the front, laughing at something one of them had said.
The rest of the students were on their phones, laptops or simply resting. Bajans were generally late sleepers; perhaps waking up for class was tough.
What really grabbed my attention, though, was a small built-in monitor on the wall that displayed the numbers 1574/1800. I wondered what it meant but couldn't make a confident guess.
As I thought about it, someone walked into class—the tall girl from the ferry. What a coincidence. I never imagined she'd be in my class. From the way she spoke yesterday, I had assumed she was a seasoned student at the ISC.
She surveyed the room, and based on her behavior yesterday, I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. Maybe she took one look at us and decided we were a bunch of fools unworthy of her time. Maybe she was already dreading her unfortunate college life.
She chose the seat farthest from everyone else, on the far-left side of the room. Only one other girl sat in the same column, two seats ahead of her.
I had to admit—she was a good-looking girl. Perhaps she considered maintaining a good physical features to be advantageous from a logical perspective for whatever reason.
She had a well-shaped figure, was undeniably beautiful, and sat with her legs crossed. But with that kind of attitude, I wasn't sure how far her good looks would get her. She might just scare people away.
As time passed, students trickled into the classroom one by one. Eventually, someone placed their bag on the desk next to mine. I turned to see who it was.
It was a boy with a low fade haircut and a black duffel bag. I considered starting a conversation, remembering how badly I needed to make connections.
But of course, something had to interrupt my plans.
A girl near the center of the room suddenly stood up. The scraping of her chair legs made everyone turn their heads—everyone except the tall girl.
The girl sitting next to her motioned for her to sit back down, but she stayed standing. Then she turned to face the rest of us, including me.
She took a deep breath, beaming. "Can I get everybody's attention, please?"
Everyone looked at her.
"Okay, so my name is Kayleigh, and my friend bet me I couldn't make a hundred friends by the end of the day." She spoke with a voice full of cheer and laughter. Even while talking, her smile never faded. I almost envied her energy.
"Everybody who knows me from secondary school knows I love making friends, so I'm going to make all of you my friends before the day is over!"
Kayleigh paused to catch her breath. I wondered if she could really pull it off. With her looks and charisma, maybe she could.
I thought about asking to help her make friends—anything to get acquainted and maybe learn how she cheats. But I didn't have the courage to stand up and say anything.
"So, who wants to be my first friend?" she asked, scanning the room.
Her eyes briefly met mine but ultimately landed on the one person I least expected—the tall girl.
Surely she could have chosen someone else? I could almost predict how badly this would go… unless Kayleigh's charm worked a miracle.
Kayleigh approached her. "Hi."
As expected, the girl didn't move. She kept her eyes glued to her phone, but Kayleigh wasn't deterred.
"I noticed you didn't seem to hear my little speech. Are you perhaps shy?"
It was as if Kayleigh didn't exist.
"I was shy back in secondary school."
"Of course you were," the tall girl finally responded, locking eyes with her. "And then you were pulled out of your comfort zone and realized how important it was to make friends. Is that what you rehearsed last night?"
Kayleigh furrowed her brow.
The girl continued, "I saw your disgusted expression staring at me on the ferry. And when I walked into class, our eyes met—didn't they? And now, out of everyone here, you pick me. If you've got a problem with me, just say it."
"I… I have no idea what you're talking about."
I couldn't believe I was hearing all of this. To be fair, the tall girl was talking loudly, but Kayleigh had her back to me. In any case the whole room was listening in, so I kept listening to.
"A cute, charismatic girl like you resorting to lying… you're the type that craves attention aren't you. Then you use that attention for your own personal gain. I'm sorry but I don't want to be caught up in a friendship like that."
And with that, she dismissed Kayleigh and went back to her phone. She probably saw the entire interaction as a waste of time.
As for Kayleigh, she stood there, stunned. If she were light-skinned, she'd be bright pink right now. I felt terrible—and even worse when I realized I wasn't going to help her.
But, as they say, heroes don't always wear capes.
A girl sitting in my column called out, "Hey Kayleigh, I'll be your first friend!"
Kayleigh turned, her smile instantly restored and walked over. This time, her offer was accepted, and the two quickly struck up a conversation.
Kayleigh was definitely going to be popular. Why? Her looks ofcourse. She was a TEN—nothing less. Everything about her was flawless, but what stood out most was her charismatic smile, the black necklace with tiny square blocks spelling "LOVE," and her braided hair adorned with golden rings. She was stunning.
But what shocked me was the comparison I found myself making between her and the tall girl. You see compared to Kayleigh all the other girls in class were sacramental 4s. But the tall girl she matched Kayleigh's Beauti!
I couldn't decide who looked better. Eventually I settled for Kayleigh. What gave her the edge was her personality.
She passed by me and started talking to the boy beside me. I overheard him say his name was Shaquon, but she could call him "Shaq."
While this was happening, our teacher entered the room quietly and sat at the front desk, sipping a cup of coffee. It was ten minutes to 9:00, and students were still arriving.
As more poured in, seats ran out. Some students told the newcomers to grab chairs from the upstairs classrooms. Oddly enough, those rooms had more seats than students.
The moment the clock hit 9:00 a.m., our teacher stood up.
"Good morning, class. May I have your attention, please?"
The room fell silent. Only the muffled noise from nearby classrooms remained.
"My name is Miss Critchlow, and I'll be your class teacher for this school year."