I Dropped Out For Forty-Three Dollars

The day my hearing aid ran out of battery, my math class teacher, Anna Wood, called me three times.

I did not hear any single one of them.

I only looked up after someone poked my back from behind with a pen.

The entire class was staring at me.

Mrs. Wood slammed her book against the desk.

“Zoe, if you don’t want to pay attention, you can leave.”

I touched the hearing aid on my ear.

The indicator light was not on.

I had already finished my last spare batteries last week.

The convenience store was selling one pack for twenty dollars. I had stood before the rack counting in my head for a really long time before leaving without buying it.

My nanny, Nancy Andrew, had told me that the electricity bill had gone up this month, and that it would have to be deducted from my living expenses.

“Mrs. Wood, her hearing aid ran out of battery.”

The classmate seated behind me explained on my behalf.

Someone seated at the front of the class laughed.

“She’s wearing a hearing aid that costs tens of thousands of dollars. How is it possible that she can’t afford batteries that are only twenty dollars?”

“She’s playing the victim again.”

Mrs. Wood frowned.

“Why didn’t you change the batteries?”

I hung my head.

“I forgot.”

After school, my homeroom teacher, Joanne Anderson, asked me to go to her office.

There was an overdue bill on her desk.

It totaled twenty thousand dollars, inclusive of my school fees, lodging fees, and uniform purchases.

“The school has followed up three times on this.

“What did your father say?”

I held the overdue bill tightly in my hands.

“He said he’ll take care of it.”

Actually, I asked him last week.

My father, Peter Johnson, was at dinner. I could hear people clinking their glasses.

When I mentioned my school fees, he sighed.

“Zoe, I took care of you for so many years, and I never treated you poorly.

“After Gloria married me, our household expenses increased a lot. Please don’t bring money issues to me.”

I told him that the school was following up on the overdue fees.

He was quiet for a few seconds.

“Isn’t Lilian always texting you?

“She’s living such a good life overseas; why isn’t she giving you a single cent?”

I remained silent.

My biological mother, Lilian Reid, indeed asked me if I had enough money on a monthly basis.

I did not reply to any single one of her text messages because Nancy had told me that Lilian had a new family and that she was only putting up a fake front by sending those messages.

She had said that if she truly cared about me, then she would not have left the country six years ago.

Mrs. Anderson tapped on the overdue bill.

“You have to pay the overdue fees by this Friday.

“If you can’t pay, then we will have no other choice but to expel you.”

I folded the bill and went to the cafeteria.

I had eight dollars left on my student card, and that should be enough for me to buy a plate of vegetarian pasta for seven dollars.

However, when I tried to pay, the machine beeped.

It indicated that I did not have enough funds left.

The cafeteria lady took back the plate of pasta.

“You only have six dollars left in your card.”

I looked back at my past transaction details.

Two dollars had been deducted from my account this afternoon.

The broom in our dorm was broken, so they evened out the replacement cost between all the roommates.

I was not the one who had broken the broom.

Even though two dollars was not a lot of money, it was just enough to cost me my dinner.

I sent a text message to Nancy.

[Can you transfer ten dollars to me? I don’t have money in my student card anymore.]

Ten minutes later, she sent me a bill.

I had broken a bowl last month, and thirty dollars had been deducted.

She had deducted a further twenty dollars for cleaning my school uniforms.

Then, another fifty dollars had been deducted for storing my hearing aid.

After that, she sent me a voice message.

[It’s hard for your father to earn a living; please don’t always just ask for money.]

I was not wearing my hearing aid, so I could only press my phone tightly against my left ear.

Just when the cafeteria was about to close, a cook walked out with leftovers.

“Are you not eating?”

I shook my head.

“I had dinner.”

At night, I went back to the dorm. I took out a pack of cookies from my bag.

My stepmother, Gloria Black, had sent them to me two months ago.

It was a huge box.

However, Nancy had told me that the cookies were too sweet, so she only let me have three packets. She had taken the rest back with her.

The cookies were already soggy.

I broke off a piece and put it in my mouth, letting it slowly soften.

My phone lit up again.

It was a text message from Lilian.

[Zoe, it’s getting cold. Is your hearing aid working fine?]

I stared at her text message for a while before putting my phone away.

She did not even know that I could not afford to buy batteries.

Her question was useless.