Cheaters Never Win

At eleven o’clock at night, I was racking my brains trying to solve the last physics question when a text popped up in my phone. It was Denise Chadburn, the top student in our class. [Pancakes from the west of the city and black tea with two cubes of sugar.] That was in the opposite direction from my house and would take me over half an hour to get there and back. I didn’t want to do it, so I texted her back: [I’m sorry, I need to get to class early tomorrow and can’t go there.] Denise never texted back after that. I thought that was the end of it. Ten minutes later, my homeroom teacher, Ms. Sable, texted me. [Jordan Schmidt, Denise is preparing for the regional Olympiad and is under much pressure. She also has gastric issues. Half an hour of extra studying wouldn’t do your dismal results any good anyway. Help bring our top student some breakfast to save her time.] I stared at my phone screen, my jawline tightening. [Ms. Sable, it’s out of the way for me. It’ll take me half an hour longer on the road.] Ms. Sable sent me a voice message. “Jordan, you’ve got to be more flexible. The fact you were paired up with Denise in our one-to-one mentoring program is to your advantage. She’s smart. A piece of advice from her is more helpful to you than rote learning by yourself for half an hour. Shouldn’t you at least try being helpful to her?” I ignored her texts and left my phone screen to turn dark, reflecting the fatigue on my face. Chapter 1 My name is Jordan Schmidt. I'm an ordinary, middle-of-the-pack Grade 11 student at South Creek High. In a class of 40 students, I’ve always been stuck at around 30th place in academic results, placing me in the group of students who are practically non-existent to the teacher. Last month, our homeroom teacher, Ms. Yvette Sable, called for a one-on-one mentoring program in which straight-A students are paired with the underachievers in the class to help them. I was paired with Denise Chadburn. I had initially treasured this opportunity. However, on the first day when we sat together, I approached her with a 3D geometry question. She was wearing noise-canceling earphones while reading a contest preparation book in another language. Without batting an eyelid, she told me, “The answer is on the third page of the answer key. If you still don’t understand after reading it, that means that given your intellect, you’re not suited to do this question. Don’t waste your time.” She spoke almost expressionlessly, yet I felt utterly humiliated. I asked her for help a few more times after that, but each time, she never failed to insult me. Since Denise refused to tutor me, I asked Ms. Sable for help instead. However, she scolded me for being silly and not knowing how to ask the top student of our level for help. I told Ms. Sable that Denise refused to tutor me. Instead, Ms. Sable accused me of asking for help with a sour attitude. Whatever it was, it was my fault. I decided to retreat and work on my weakest subject, Mathematics, by myself behind closed doors. However, Denise kept disturbing me. She would either demand that I help her run errands or do her duties. Each time I said no to her, she would threaten me with Ms. Sable. Yvette Sable doted on her the most. Whether I was in the right or not, anything involving her top student was bound to become my fault. So, I tolerated things and ended up becoming Denise's free nanny. It didn’t stop Denise from becoming worse. The routine monthly test was going to be held in the next lesson, and the class rep was distributing the math exam papers for the next lesson. I seized the time to grab some water from the pantry. Yet, when I returned to my seat, I saw Denise using my test paper as draft paper. I looked on in disbelief and instinctively tried to snatch it back. Before I even touched the paper, she tutted irritably and slashed right down my test paper with a black pen, seemingly in a fit of anger. She slashed it so forcefully that it caused a long tear on my test paper. Anger burned in my heart. “Denise Chadburn! This is my test paper! What right do you have to use it as a draft paper?” She took off one side of her earphone and looked coldly at me. “I ran out of draft paper, so I had to make do with borrowing your test paper.” “How am I going to take the test now that you’ve torn my test paper?!” My face was dark with anger, and I clenched my fists. She leaned back into her chair nonchalantly and said lazily, “So be it. Is doing the test really going to make a difference, given your abysmal results?” Chapter 2 I was so mad, but just then, the bell rang. Ms. Sable walked in. When she saw me, she said with a frown, “Didn’t you hear the bell ring? What are you doing just standing there? “Ms. Sable, Denise used my test paper as draft paper. She even tore it!” I had thought she would stand up for me, but her next sentence struck me like lightning. “Kicking up a ruckus in class for something so trivial?” she said irritably. “Can’t you just print another copy if your test paper is torn? Must you hold everyone up in class? Or can that specific test paper magically transform you from the bottom to the top student of the level?” Low chuckles could be heard in the quiet classroom. My jaw tightened. I stood where I was in silence, hatred filling my heart. I hated Denise’s arrogance, the teacher’s bias and, even more so, my inability to refute them. I eventually photocopied the teacher’s copy of the test paper and completed it. While doing the test, I was muddle-headed because of the time I had wasted and the sullen mood I was in. When the bell rang, I still had one-third of the paper left undone. It went without saying that I was going to be at the bottom of the class this time. After school, it started drizzling. When I walked past the staff office, I heard Yvette chatting with other teachers inside. “Denise was the only one in her class who could solve the final, capstone question of this test. She’s simply a genius. As for the weaker students, they couldn’t even come up with a single word. Their paper was submitted blank for that question.” I gripped the straps of my bag tight and rushed into the rain, my head lowered. When I returned to my cramped rental apartment, I found it empty. A slightly warm bowl of pasta was on the wooden table, with a note under it. [Jordan, we have a major reservation at the restaurant today and we’re shorthanded. I’m taking the night shift for today. If the pasta’s gone cold, heat it up again. Sleep early tonight.] My mom worked in a seafood restaurant, serving and washing dishes all day and doing the toughest, most menial of all jobs. Her back wasn’t good, and she would always be in so much pain during rainy days that she could hardly stand straight. The rain that was getting heavier and heavier outside made me worried about her. I found some medicated plaster and headed out again with an umbrella. When I entered through the crew passageway into the corridor on the second floor where the VIP room was located, I heard boisterous laughter just around the corner. Through the door that was left slightly ajar, I saw my mom standing awkwardly next to the large round table. A pot-bellied man waved a wad of cash in front of her and teased, “I’m in a good mood today. Dance for us right here, and I'll tip you a thousand dollars!” He wasn’t asking for a dance. He wanted to see a service staff member of the lowest class pleasing him in the most embarrassing and humiliating manner. As I had expected, my mom’s face turned pale. She stood frozen on the spot. A middle-aged man at the head of the table chuckled. “Larsson, you’re really not picky, are you? You’re so generous even to an old hag. Aren’t you afraid she’ll latch onto you and never let go?” Everyone in the room burst out laughing. I recognized the middle-aged man at the head of the table. He was Denise’s father. During this year’s school opening ceremony, he went on stage to deliver a speech as the parent of an outstanding student. From the looks of it, Denise’s arrogance and the way she treated people clearly came from him. Mr. Larsson laughed out loud, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Mr. Chadburn, I’ve got to keep things entertaining for everyone! We’re a society governed by law, anyway. If she’s not willing, I can’t force her. Hahaha…” What a bully! I clenched my fists, ready to barge in when I heard my mom’s voice. “I’m willing to do it. I’ll dance right now!” Chapter 3 My mom started to twist her stiff body in the most awkward manner. The almost-comical way she was moving her body tickled everyone into laughter. I turned around and bit my lip hard, clenching my fists so tight my knuckles turned white. I couldn’t bear to watch a second longer. A moment later, the laughter in the room died down. My mom’s forehead was covered in sweat. She reached her hands out and said with a polite smile, “Sir, I’m done dancing.” Mr. Larsson scoffed in disdain. “Well done. Here’s a tip for you.” With that, he flung the wad of cash at my mom. My mom muttered a thanks under her breath and bent down to pick up every single bill on the floor. When she left the room, she saw me waiting by the entrance. “Jordan, what are you doing here so late at night?” she asked, ever so tenderly. It was as though that humiliation she had just suffered left no mark at all in her heart. However, I could still catch the slight trembling in her voice. When I didn’t reply to her, she stuffed the cash into my hands and said dotingly, “Look, I did a performance just now and earned so much! “I’m uneducated and can’t do much to help you in your studies. My heart aches seeing you studying so hard every night. You’re working so hard that you’re losing weight, darling. “Go for extra classes, like the one with the famous teacher you’re always talking about. Don’t worry about money. I’ll find ways to earn it.” As it turned out, my mom was enduring all the hardship and humiliation for my sake. I had thought I was all alone and without support in the path of preparing for my exams. I never thought that my mom had been right behind me, supporting me. “Mom…” I could no longer hold myself back. I hugged her tight, my throat constricted and hoarse with emotion. After attending extra classes, I managed to strengthen my foundation and cover up the knowledge gaps I used to have. Those tough questions I couldn’t solve even after asking my teachers and classmates were easily resolved with the help of the tutor. I was gradually able to catch up in Mathematics. In today’s math assignment, there were only three questions I answered incorrectly. I was feeling good about myself when Denise, who was seated next to me, said coldly, “The extra lessons you’ve been taking seem to be rather effective.” The corner of her lips curled in a wicked smirk as she looked at the red ticks on my paper in disdain. “But are you sure you can feel at ease when you’re spending money your mother earns from twisting her body so awkwardly at her workplace for tuition?” My heart sank immediately. How did she find out about that? The image of Denise’s father seated at the head of the table in the private room that day flashed past my mind. Sensing me stiffening up, Denise teased me further. “Jordan Schmidt, if I were you, I wouldn’t be so shameful as to use this money for my extra lessons.” I bit my bottom lip hard. A feeling of unease rose from the pit of my stomach. Even so, I was clear that this uneasiness I was feeling wasn't because I felt embarrassed by my mom. I turned around, looked straight into Denise’s eyes, and spoke to her, my voice firm. “My mom earns a decent living by her own hard work. I'm going to use her hard-earned money, and I’m also going to make sure I achieve good results with it. You, on the other hand, find joy in other people’s suffering. You don’t even have any basic decency and respect for others.” Her face darkened at my sudden retaliation. After all, I had always been tolerant of whatever that came my way. “Have you gone mad?” she sputtered. Turning around, I ignored her and focused on the questions I had answered incorrectly. From that day on, I studied as though my life depended on it. I was the first to arrive in class and the last to leave. Aside from sleeping and eating, my mind was obsessed with formulas and vocabulary. The midterm exam was held two weeks later. The day the results were released, I stood before the honor roll and let out a long sigh of relief. I was the 12th student in class and amongst the top hundred students of my level. This was my best result ever since I entered high school, officially propelling me to the upper-middle tier amongst my peers. My tutor praised me for my remarkable improvement and the strong foundation I had built. Coincidentally, Ms. Sable announced that a parent-teacher meeting would be held this weekend. Typically, the rankings of the last exam would be announced at these parent-teacher meetings. I could finally make my mom proud for once. Chapter 4 On the day of the parent-teacher meeting, my mom specifically requested for a half-day leave from work. She wore a pristine white shirt and combed her hair neatly. Although the corners of her eyes were etched with wrinkles of fatigue, her eyes twinkled like the stars in the sky when she saw my ranking amidst my level. “You’re incredible, Jordan. I knew you could do it.” She held my hands affectionately, a bright smile on her face. Denise’s father was here, too. He was dressed in a smart suit, surrounded by many other parents. His face was beaming with satisfaction. Ms. Sable was like an escort fawning over him. When the meeting was called to order, the students sat down next to their parents. Ms. Sable stood on the stage and took 20 full minutes praising Denise and her father to the high heavens, saying that Denise is a genius that’s hard to come by and the pride of the school. Her tone then took a complete turnabout. “Of course, we have some extremely negative examples, too. Students who not only refuse to become better, but are so wicked they even try to influence our outstanding students!” Ms. Sable then pulled out a test paper. It was the one from the monthly exam, when Denise used my test paper as draft paper. Ms. Sable slammed my paper on the table and shot my mom a piercing look. “Mrs. Schmidt. Not only did Jordan pick a fight with a classmate before the exam, but he even came in last for the paper! “He refuses to learn humbly from Denise and even fights with her over something trivial. “He has no respect for his teachers and is extremely unruly and incorrigible! I have no idea how you discipline him at home.” The classroom went quiet as all the other parents turned to look at my mom. My mom looked stunned. She instinctively stood up to explain herself. “Ms. Sable, isn’t this the monthly exam before the last? In the latest monthly exam, Jordan improved by leaps and bounds…” “Is he going to be invincible after just one good showing?” Ms. Sable broke her off rudely. “I found it strange, really. I’ve been teaching him for close to three years. His results have always ranked outside the top 300. How did he suddenly come in within the top 100 students? He knows best how he achieved these results!” Ms. Sable glared at me, disdain overflowing in her eyes. “As his teacher, I must give him a piece of advice. Since it’s just the monthly exam that I caught him cheating on, I’m willing to give him a chance to turn over a new leaf. But if he were to cheat at a major exam, the national laws wouldn’t be as forgiving as I am!” I clenched my fists, my entire body shaking. Ms. Sable was just assuming that I had cheated during the exam. “Impossible!” My mom stood up in a rush, standing right in front of me protectively like a huge mountain. “My son will never cheat at an exam! He improved so much because he started attending extra lessons and has been studying very hard. I might be uneducated, but I know you need evidence to accuse someone. Ms. Sable, you accuse my son of cheating during the exam, but where’s your evidence?” My mom looked unwaveringly at Ms. Sable. It was my first time seeing her so strong and unyielding. A hint of uncertainty flashed past Ms. Sable’s face, but she quickly recovered and slammed the table once more in a fit of pique. “What do you mean by this? Would a teacher slander a student? An apple doesn’t fall far from the tree indeed! Since you both show no remorse, there’s no need for me to be forgiving to the both of you.” With that, she projected a video on the screen. “I’ll show everyone today what a negative example truly is!” Chapter 5 In the video, my mom was twisting her body stiffly and awkwardly while surrounded by boisterous laughter of men in a luxurious private room. “Well done. Here’s a tip for you.” Mr. Larsson’s voice, dripping with disdain, sounded from the video. The scene was then cut to my mom picking up the money on the floor in a fluster. The volume of the video was turned up high. The leering laughter of the men in the video resounded in the quiet classroom, sounding exceptionally piercing. Suddenly, everyone was in an uproar. “Goodness, I can't believe we have a parent who does such work in this class!” “Isn’t she wearing a waitress uniform? She’s probably just service staff.” “What kind of service staff is willing to be humiliated like that? Maybe her sugar daddy likes such things and asked her to dress up like that.” “Tsk, tsk! Acting like this for the sake of money. I feel embarrassed for her!” The piercing remarks made me look at my mom with worry. She was biting her lip hard, her entire body shaking. Denise and her father, on the other hand, were both acting all high and mighty. They wore a look of mockery on their faces. I immediately knew where this video had come from. “Enough! Shut it off! Shut it off right now!” I rushed up to the stage and plucked out the cable of the projector. The screen went black at once, but everyone’s piercing gazes remained on both my mom and me. Ms. Sable was furious. She pointed at my nose and yelled, “Jordan Schmidt! Do you have any regard for the rules in class? Why are you trying to stop us from seeing something shameless your mom did in public?” “Shameless?” I glared at Ms. Sable. “My mom swallowed her pride to pick up the money on the ground just so she could pay for my tuition. That isn’t shameless, it’s the strength of a working-class mother! The ones who are truly shameless are the so-called elites in the video who find joy in stomping on other people’s dignity just because they think they have some money!” I turned around and pointed at Denise’s father who was looking on in amusement. “Ms. Sable, you talked about discipline at home, didn’t you? Why don’t you talk about the man seated at the head of the table in the video, who's also Denise’s father, Mr. Chadburn?” Mr. Chadburn’s face darkened. Denise stood up and yelled at me. “Jordan Schmidt, shut up! Who forced your mom to dance? Who forced her to pick up the money? She's just a gold digger, and a shameless one at that!” I was so furious, my chest heaved with anger. Suddenly, a thought came to mind. “Since you want to do things this way, let’s expose everything right now and let the truth come to light!” I said with a smirk. I shoved Ms. Sable aside and stuck a thumb drive in the computer. With eyes like searing torches, I glared at Denise and her father. “I invite everyone here today to take a look at the wonderful daughter this lofty Mr. Chadburn raised. See how Denise Chadburn, whom Ms. Sable loves calling a genius, uses a problem-solving app to clinch her position as the top student of the level!”