Almost Honest

JUNE’S POV

Results week decides who gets a future and who gets left behind. 

I didn’t need luck to get into Westbridge. 

I needed access.

I overheard a few students talking about their results. 

“My dad knows someone on the admissions board. As long as I didn’t get any Cs, I’m in.” One of them explained. 

I wish they knew how lucky they were to have such advantages. To not have to worry about the difference between an A* and an A. 

Life was so much easier for them. If not easier, they had smoother lives. They had the luxury of being carefree, easy, relaxed. 

Their futures were already secured, signed and sealed by family surnames and connections. 

“June!” I heard Jules loud voice from across the hallway, snapping me out of my thoughts. She was running towards me with papers in hand.

“Calm down, what’s going on?” I held her shoulders to steady her as she caught her breath.

“Our mock results are out.” She said and my eyes went straight to the papers in her hands.

“Here’s yours. I didn’t check it in case you wanted to see them first.” She handed the crisp paper over to me.

In one slow motion, I flipped it to see my exam results.

“How are they?” She started. “Why am I even bothered, its literally you. I’m sure you did exceptionally well.” 

I focused on the paper in my hand.

One A instead of an A-star. That was the difference between getting in and not even being considered.

Jules leaned forward. “Well??” 

“I didn’t fail.” 

She blinked. “That’s all you have to say? Kindly expatiate.” 

“It’s good.” I paused. The words felt wrong even as I said them. Because good doesn’t get you chosen.

“Just not the kind of good that gets you into Westbridge.” I completed. 

Jules snatched the paper from my hand.

“June, this is brilliant. Any university would be lucky to have you!” She beamed. 

“If these were real exams, I’d be in trouble.” I replied and pulled out my books from my locker.

“But they’re not.” She responded.

“Exactly!” 

She frowned. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

It did. Mock exams weren’t just practice, they were a warning. And mine was clear, almost.

“You’re overthinking it,” she started. “I’m so proud of you and you should be too.” She pulled me into a comforting hug.

“Yeah maybe.” I responded and hugged her back.

In the back of my mind, I knew somewhere out there. Someone would have perfect scores. Someone always did.

Those were the poeple universities noticed. What my best friend didn’t understand was it wasn’t just about passing, it was about being selected.

I had to be one of them.

No matter what it took.

She pulled away from the hug and exhaled slightly.

“How was yours?” I asked her. 

“Fantastic, two As and one B.” She said, clearly proud of herself.

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you. Cambridge doesn’t know what’s coming for them.” I teased. 

“Thank you.” She replied. 

The bell rang, cutting us off. 

“I’ll see you at lunch, yeah?” She spoke before walking away. I nodded and waved her goodbye.

I begun walking to my class but I was soon trapped in my thoughts again.

If I wanted to get into Westbridge, I had to make connections soon. 

I pulled out my phone to check the admission requirements and the board. 

“Ugh.” I groaned. I was trying to click the link but my phone started hanging. 

I looked up and ran straight into Lori Cross. 

“Watch it, June. These are limited edition.” She glanced down at her shoes like I’d committed a crime. 

I didn’t even know what brand they were. I also didn’t care.

She opened her mouth to continue but someone spoke.

“There’s no stain Lori. It was obviously an accident.” The voice was effortless, so calm.

“We can’t keep Mrs Cook waiting.” He added.

I didn’t turn around, I didn’t need to.

People like Adrien didn’t blend in. 

They shifted the room.

I just walked away. 

By the time lunch break came around, the day had already drained me.

Jules was by my side, complaining about the problems of the press club.

“The writing is tragic.” She said. Jules could be dramatic but she was also the best writer I knew. 

Amidst her rampant complains, her voice has already faded into the background.

“Do you think I’ll get into Westbridge?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.

“Of course. You’re the smartest person I know, they’d be insane not to take you.” She responded.

“Sometimes, smart isn’t enough.” I replied, looking away. 

She paused.

“They’re not the only university in London, you know.” 

I nodded, but that wasn’t the point. 

I didn’t just want any university, I wanted that one.

I grabbed a sandwich and sat down, barely paying attention to the chatter around me. Until something on my phone caught my attention.

It was the admission link I’d been trying to open. 

A familiar name popped up, a professor was on the board. Not just any professor, the father of the school’s football star. 

Professor Hayes, father of Adrien Hayes. 

A bright idea popped in my mind. It was clean, sharp. The kind peoples called a lightbulb moment. 

Just then, an applause broke out around me and Adrien was the center of it.

“They won yesterday, a last minute header,” Jules said. “He’s everywhere right now, the man of the moment.” 

I watched for a second. 

Not him, what surrounded him.

Attention, influence, reach. 

“Why are you staring at him like that?” Jules asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

“No reason.” I answered.

“You look like you’re planning something.” She added before picking up her drink.

I stayed quiet, because she wasn’t wrong.

This wasn’t just a thought anymore, it was a solution.

Suddenly, Adrien Hayes wasn’t just a person anymore, he was a door. 

One I was willing to use.

The problem was, he didn’t even know I existed.

I needed to change that.  

Fast.