Lies Twist The Way We Think

Chapter 1 - An uncomfortable talk with the principal

Although I usually don't react, I can't help but mutter, "I'm honoured you're keeping track of it."

"I'm just nice like that." My teacher responds dryly and turns her back to me.

I take place next to Aisha, my best friend and she grins at me. "Good one," she whispers. Aisha has been my best friend ever since middle grade, and I don't know what I would do without her. Today, she's wearing a sage green hijab that matches her pants and I can't help but admire how well put together it looks.

Next to her, I feel like a mess. I haven't taken care of my curls ever since money has become a rare good in our life, so I just put it up in a bun or a ponytail most of the time. My clothes are my mom's, mostly. I've given most of my stuff to Avery and I'm about the same height as mom was, which is why I don't buy new clothes. It stings every time I open her closet, though. I feel like I'm putting on a skin that isn't mins, and every time I take a breath I smell her perfume on the clothes, even though they have been washed countless times since her death.

For the rest of the lesson, we switch between taking notes. That's usually how we do it, because we decided it's easier if we simply share the notes and explain the material to each other.

Just as the lesson is about to end, I'm being called to the office.

Older sisters like me are supposed to stay invisible. We take care of our siblings. We don't get summoned to sit-downs with the principal. We make exactly as much trouble as we can afford to make, which in my case is none.

I frown and turn to Aisha. Everything okay?, she mouthes, and I shrug helplessly.

I may have shrugged it off, but panic floods me. Avery. Did something happen to Avery? Am I being suspended for being late too often? Have I done something? Has she done something?

Get it together, Camille. I straighten my back and ignore the glances of the few who know me. There are good sides after all to being relatively unknown at school.

When I reach the office, I hear muffled talks. I make out Avery's voice and it takes me two seconds to get there and open the door. What the hell is going on?

"Miss Diante," Principal Altman says with a tone that would usually have me turn around and get the fuck out of here. Fortunately for him, Avery is here. "Have a seat."

I sit on the chair next to Avery.

He folds his hands on the desk between us. "I assume you both know why you're here."

Unless this is about the party last weekend at Dean's where I won three rounds of poker against him- which happened, by the way, while I was absolutely hammered and he was half beaten up- I have no idea what I've done to draw the administration's attention. "Respectfully," I say with no respect whatsoever in my voice, "I don't."

That's not the answer he wants, but I don't care. I squeeze Avery's hand and I can tell she's just as confused as I am. Her dark hair looks a lot like mine today, something that is perhaps the only physical trait we share. We both got it from mom.

"This is the physics test Avery took yesterday." He presents me a paper and I take a quick look at it.

Physics is one of my strongest subjects. I recognise the topic, having had the exact teacher myself.

He turns to Avery. "Mr Yates graded the tests, Avery. Yours was the only perfect score."

I can barely keep the groan to myself. I have been through this exact conversation a year earlier, and I cannot let him ruin Avery's confidence by telling her that he thinks her to have cheated on it.

Before he can continue, I speak up, "I studied with her. I know Mr. Yates, he used to be my teacher too. I believe we had this conversation a year ago already." I don't raise my voice, but I know he can sense my impatience.

Avery looks from him to me. "What do you mean?"

"You see, young lady, Mr. Yates intentionally creates exams that challenge the abilities of his students. In twenty years, he's only given a perfect store twice. Do you see the problem?"

I can't help it. I have to respond. "A teacher who designs exams that most of his students can't pass? I think I do see a problem, Principal."

He ignores me. I feel like I'm being punched in the gut. "I am not without sympathy for your situation. You're a good student, Avery. But you don't exactly have a history of setting the curve. I would hate to see any plans you might have for the future derailed."

"Any plans I might have?" Avery repeats and I know in that exact moment that the principal has lost. "I'm a junior. I'll graduate next year with at least two semesters' worth of college credit. My test scores should put me in scholarship contention at UConn, which has one of the top actuarial science programs in the country."

Mr. Altman frowned. "Actuarial science?"

This time, I respond. "Statistical risk assessment." I've talked to Avery about this often enough, sketching plans with her about her future. A future she will have.

I'm going to make sure of it.

"Are you a fan of calculated risks, Ms. Grambs?"

"I didn't cheat," Avery says with a deadly calm. "I studied. For hours."

And then she says what I expected her to say, because that is exactly the kind of thing Avery Grambs would say, "I'll take the test again. I'll get the same grade again."

The principal thinks. "That can be arranged tomorrow during third period, but I have to-"

"Now."

I lean back, hiding the smile that threatens to take over my face. I know the principal thinks the exact same as I, because he briefly looks at me as he shakes his head.

"This family," he murmurs. Then he says in a louder tone: "Mr. Yates has a new exam prepared already. Miss Diante, you are free to leave."