First World Problems

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

My fears weren’t unfounded. Every single kid who approached me for help that day walked away disappointed when they realized they knew more about math than I did.

That last year at Mansfield Prep had been a frantic blur of trying to get the best grades and collect as many extracurricular experiences as possible. I winced as I thought of the “boyfriend” I’d gotten myself for the express purpose of getting a State Mathletics Championship on my resume in hopes of being able to get into one of the better colleges. I half-hated my twin brother Vincent for being decent at school, since my grades and test scores had always been abysmal. The curve was already thrown off by these prep schools Dad sent us to.

When my studying and expensive tutors weren’t enough to keep my grades up to Dad’s satisfaction, and Vince was so lazy his weren’t much better, we fell into cheating with barely a second thought. Dad had made it very clear that, with all the money he was throwing at us, Vincent and I had no excuse not to succeed.

The cheating had started mid-sophomore year, which meant I sort of remembered basic factoring and the format of a geometry proof but not much beyond that.

Lunchtime passed, and then one hour after. I watched the last hour tick by minute by minute on the cheap plastic wall clock, which dangled precariously on a single nail.

Finally, Lena sidled up to me. “We’re about done for the day.”

I tried to keep the relief I felt from showing on my face, but Lena didn’t even seem to be looking. “Already?”

Lena nodded. “We’re trying to squish as much school into as few hours as possible. Their families need them at home.”

What could a seven-year-old kid’s family possibly need him for in the middle of the day? Before I could ask, Lena kept chattering on. “Aren’t they great? This is the group of kids who are most likely to go on to secondary school in a larger town. If their math skills are impressive enough, they’ll be able to win scholarships and actually attend. Very, very few kids make it out of here to advanced programs. So, see? Callum’s being stupid. This isn’t backbreaking work, but this is work that matters. The things you’re able to teach them could change the entire village.”

My eyes went wide. If things I could teach them could change the whole village for the better, would a total failure of a teacher ruin the whole village?

Lena responded with another smile. “Exciting, right? That’s what gets me going each day.”

Her eyes shone. She really believed that teaching reading and math and science could change the state of this village. Could change it into a place people would actually want to live. I thought about the toilet in our house, the necessary mosquito net, the weird food. Would something as simple as running water make me want to live here?

Not a chance. It would take a whole lot more to make this place habitable for anyone civilized.

Still, Lena looked at me like I was the answer to all of these kids’ problems—or the beginning of an answer, anyway. As much as I liked the attention and confidence, this wasn’t admission to Harvard. This wasn’t securing myself a cushy job, which, if I never got, my life would remain more or less the same. I was actually responsible for real people’s futures here.

The back of my neck stung with sweat, and I quickly turned back to the desk for a sheet of paper I could use as a fan. I pulled the hair back from my neck and looked at the ground, trying and failing to take deep breaths.

Lena was right on my heels. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I… No. I’m really not.”

“Do you have enough water? You really need to stay on top of your drinking here. It’s not the desert, but it’s still really hot. Your body might not tell you it’s in a bad state until it’s too late, and—”