The Real Ram

Chapter 46

 I remember the day the principle of my high school called me into his office to talk. At first I thought he found out about my abilities, but he sat me down in one of his office chairs with a smile on his face. "Zoey Ram," he stated.

"Yes?" I replied softly.

"Are you aware that you are the top freshman in your class?"

"Excuse me?"

He laughs and leans back in his chair, "As you know it's getting towards the end of the year, and class rankings are becoming more frequent in the talk of the school." That's weird, I thought, the only talk I hear is about freaks like me. "Every year students will work their hardest to get into the top ten, but beside these students come the exceptionally academic students that reach the top of their class. You, Miss Ram, are one of them."

"No thank you," I say with a polite nod.

"Excuse me?" The principle sits up, confused. 

"I'd like to turn down the—"

"It's not an offer," he says, "I called you in from class to congratulate you."

I'd rather attend class. "Thank you, but I'd like to not be recognized as the top. Is there a way to give it to the second ranked person."

"Yes, if you drop about .7 points in your GPA."

Jeez, that's like a whole grade, "Can I just not be recognized?"

"Why don't you want to be recognized? This is a great achievement! Don't you think you're parents would be proud of you for getting that far?"

What a joke. If he really cared, he would at least know that my mom died, and that my current parent, isn't my parent. The reason why I don't want to be recognized is because I knew John would have gotten angry at me for attracting such attention to myself. He would say, 'What an attention whore you are. You must have cheated to get those grades, no way in hell am I going to be proud of that.'

"I don't want to be recognized, no."

The prince nods his head in disbelief, "Wow, that's the first I've ever heard someone say that before. You're a strange one, aren't you?"

I get up the same time he does and force myself to shake his outstretched hand. If he only knew the truth that his statement held, he would have been arresting me that day rather than congratulating me.

I wake up in my bed the next morning, to Trish's all familiar hair dryer. Her brown curls seem to have increased in their volume, and she doesn't appear to like it.

Once she notices my consciousness, she turns around and gives a loud groan, "Zoe, do you see this? I look like I have an afro!"

"It looks fine," I reply in a soft morning voice. I get up and ask, "What time is it?"

"7:15, you're fine on time if you want to take a shower."

I get up at it hits me, "Wait, how'd I get here?"

"What?"

"I didn't fall asleep in our room, I fell asleep with..."

I look at Trish and see her sly smile, "Beast brought you over last night. He said you fell asleep talking with him, and he didn't want to wake you."

"He carried me?"

"No he dragged you," Trish corrects sarcastically. "Yes, he carried you."

"That must have looked weird," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up.