Chapter 2

1

The sun was shining the day the school posted the list of scholarship candidates. I sat by the window, my name on the list making me feel a little more secure. Not much, just a little―at least my mother would have to borrow less for next semester’s tuition. At least she wouldn’t have to wake up at four in the morning to rush to the wholesale market for discounted produce this winter.

When the teacher read my name, I lowered my head. It wasn’t because I was proud; it was out of embarrassment. The whole class was staring at you, their gazes like heavy mercury pressing down on my neck. But I wanted to smile. I wanted to call my mom the moment school ended and tell her: Mom, I got the scholarship. You don’t have to worry about the tuition anymore.

Then Chloe stood up.

“Mrs. Harrison―” Her voice was trembling, her eyes and nose tipped with a red hue. That redness appeared too quickly and too perfectly, like a precisely calculated stage light. “I have something to say.”

The class went silent. Chloe was the star of our school―not because of her grades, but because she knew exactly when to take the spotlight. She was the one hosting the anniversary event, the one performing the solo dance at the New Year’s gala, and always the one in the center of the frame for donation photos. She looked beautiful when she cried, the kind of sorrow that made the boys want to protect her and the girls want to comfort her.

“Things at home have been―” She bit her lip, large tears rolling down her cheeks. “My dad got scammed in business and owes over two hundred thousand in debt. And my mom―my mom was diagnosed with stage three stomach cancer last week. One round of chemotherapy costs over ten thousand. My family really―we really can’t afford it anymore. My tuition for next semester was borrowed―”

She grew more emotional as she spoke, finally collapsing onto her desk in a sobbing fit. Her shoulders shook like a bird with rain-soaked wings. Mrs. Harrison’s eyes welled up, and she handed Chloe a tissue. Students around us started whispering― “That’s so sad,” “No wonder she’s lost weight,” “Should we start a fundraiser?”

I watched Chloe cry. My heart felt heavy. It wasn’t a fake feeling; it was genuine. I thought of my mom, working multiple jobs just to keep me in school. She often said, “Everyone hits hard times; help when you can.” I thought about how Chloe had been nice to me―lending me notes, buying me ice cream, and once letting me catch a ride in her dad’s car when it was raining.

I thought to myself: Give the spot to Chloe. Her family needs it more than mine.

After school, I went to the teacher’s office. “Mrs. Harrison, please give the scholarship to Chloe. My family can barely manage, but we’ll scrape by.”

Mrs. Harrison looked at me for a long time. The reflection of the fluorescent light on her glasses obscured her expression. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

That look. It took me years to finally understand it―it wasn’t doubt; it was heartache.

The name on the scholarship was changed to Chloe’s. When it was announced, she hugged me for a long time, telling me I was the best friend in the world and that she would definitely pay me back. I felt a bit bashful and even proud―like I had done something heroic. Like a hero who had to skip breakfast just to save money.