Clever Girl

Chapter 2 : The Golden Boy of Apollo Collegiate

Jay Alderan.

Even though I'm a nobody, with no social standing and no impact, I still know everything there is to know about him.

He's the Golden Boy of Apollo Collegiate. The top student of every class, the Junior Prom King, the student council president, and the captain of probably every useless club ever. He's the opposite of everything I stand for, and he makes me sick.

I've only ever had two encounters with him in my years here. The first one was when we were Freshmen. It was the second day of the very first semester of high school, and I was lost in the maze of hallways. Alone. Trying to find my next class. He was standing next to a closed door, a clipboard in his hand, writing something down furiously. When he heard me walking, he glared up at me, then made a snide comment about how people who are lost, and late, will never amount to anything.

The second time was just before Junior year had ended. I was purposely taking my sweet time getting to the last class of the day, debating with myself whether or not I should skip it entirely, when I saw him. Again, it was next to a closed door, this time with his nose in a book. He didn't even look up when I walked passed him, and simply said, "Still late. Forever lost. Why not just give up now?"

I had gritted my teeth and walked on. There was no point in thinking up a clever retort. He would probably smirk, or let out a nasty laugh, or ignore me entirely.

So the prospect of being tutored by him now is very irritating. Who would want someone to breathe down their neck, tell them they're worthless, insist that they won't amount to anything, and should just give up? And all the while, he'll probably have some narcissistic grin on his stupid face. Honestly, there's probably a special place in Hell for holier-than-thou, self-obsessed overachievers like him.

"That's a bummer," my seven-year-old brother Matty says after I explain my situation to him. "You'll have to spend all your free-time with some nerd."

"Not just some nerd. The biggest damn nerd in the whole damn school."

We're home, and we're sitting at the kitchen table as I go over Matty's completed homework. Schools sure do like to suck the fun out of being a kid. Today Matty has math, English and art homework. His backpack had weighed about a ton. I can't even imagine the kind of pain he must feel in his small shoulders.

"Wow, that really sucks. Nerds are the worst. There's this one nerd in my class - his name is Bruce - and he thinks he's so cool," Matty says, a look of utter disgust on his face.

Matty's the top student in his class. I've always tried to teach him to be humble, and I think I'm doing a pretty good job so far. He never rubs his grades in anyone's face. He's never the first to answer a question, even though I'm pretty sure he knows all the answers. He's the brightest kid I know, and yet he knows not to make others feel bad because of it. On top of it all, he's super sociable, with too many friends to count.

When he was five years old, his school wanted to let him skip a grade. It happened again the next year. Thankfully my dad refused both times, and urged the school to give Matty the same amount of work and attention they give all the other students his age. My parents did sign him up for more advanced classes, online, for about two hours every weekend, and only ones Matty liked. And if he sometimes wanted to skip a weekend, spend it outside playing, they'd let him.

I smile at him after checking off the last answer to his math homework, "Good news kid. You got everything right. Great job! As promised, you get an extra half-hour of Netflix tonight."

"YES!" Matty stands up and does a little victory dance. He then darts out of the kitchen, and not another minute passes before I hear the opening theme of The Twilight Zone.