When a Mother Loves Her Reputation More

The midday sun in June turned the school field into a scorching oven. The back of my top had long since been soaked through with sweat before drying again from the sweltering heat, leaving stains behind.

I was still clutching a sheet of paper—the list of vocabulary I needed to memorize. Muddled by my sweat, the words on the paper had blurred beyond recognition.

A few students were leaning against a windowsill on the third floor of the classroom building, looking downward.

One of them muttered, "It's been almost an hour, and Ms. Campbell still hasn't called her back in. Isn't that a bit too harsh?"

Someone else replied even more quietly, "Why do you care when her own mother doesn't feel bad about it?"

The window slammed shut. I could hear the hum of the air conditioning coming from the classroom, but the cool air that everyone else got to savor wasn't mine to enjoy.

Suddenly, a pair of canvas sneakers stopped in front of me.

Chelsea Leach, the class representative, slowly began to circle me while holding a stack of notebooks. She cocked her head to the side and glanced at me.

"Are you alright, Julia? You look terrible," she remarked.

I couldn't make a sound.

She stuck her hand out to touch my forehead before yanking it back with a jolt.

"You're burning up!"

Frowning, she glanced at the classroom building, and the look of concern vanished from her face.

"Poor you, Julia," Chelsea commented while flicking the vocabulary list I was clenching. "Ms. Campbell made the others copy the words and definitions twice, but you were sent to stand out here in the field instead… You must hate her, right?"

I vehemently shook my head.

"Oh, drop the act," Chelsea said before leaning in to whisper in my ear. "Do you know what everyone says behind your back? They say you only get to come in first every time because your mom tells you the exam questions in advance."

"That's not true…" I tried my best to clarify.

"That's not true, you say? Then why do you score better than me every time, huh?" Chelsea snapped, her smile replaced with a glare. "I stay up until 2:00 am reviewing the study material and doing mock exam papers while you get lucky because the homeroom teacher is your mom.

"Your mom's only trying to put on a show to deceive everyone by letting you stand out here to suffer for a bit. Once the performance is over, she's still going to fuss over you and do whatever it takes to help you get ahead."

Just then, Ian Wright, one of our classmates who sat next to me, came running over with a bottle of cold water. He was sweating profusely from the heat.

"Julia! I brought you some water…"

Chelsea whipped around and stood directly between Ian and me.

"What do you think you're doing, Ian?"

"She's about to faint! What's wrong with me bringing her some water?" Ian retorted.

Chelsea grabbed his hand with the outstretched bottle.

"Ms. Campbell already said that Julia isn't allowed back inside until she's memorized everything. If you bring her water now, won't that just make it seem like Ms. Campbell is giving her own daughter special treatment?

"Why didn't you bring Tommy Newton any water when he was instructed to stand outside as punishment, huh? Are you treating Julia differently just because she's the teacher's daughter?"

Ian's hand froze in midair.

Still staring fixedly at him, Chelsea continued in a grim tone, "Ms. Campbell hates it when people accuse her of playing favorites. What will she think if she finds out that you brought Julia water? Are you trying to help Julia or make things worse for her?"

Ian clutched the bottle tightly, unable to decide what to do. After glancing at Chelsea and me, he chewed his lip for a moment before setting the bottle down on the ground and taking two steps backward.

"Help me keep an eye on her then, Chelsea. If she's really having a hard time, tell Ms. Campbell about it," he said.

Chelsea smiled. "Leave it to me."

Ian turned around and started heading back inside, looking over his shoulder every few steps. Once he left, Chelsea looked down at the bottle of water. She picked it up and slowly twisted the cap off in front of me.

The wind brought the coolness from the icy water over to me, brushing it against my face. My cracked lips twitched instinctively.

"Want to have some?" Chelsea asked as she brought the bottle to my mouth.

Just when the bottle was about to touch my lips, however, she flicked her hand, and all the water spilled onto the scorching track on the field. The water sizzled, turning into steam.

"You can have water when you're done memorizing the words."

Chelsea tossed the empty bottle into a nearby trash can and walked back to the building. When she reached the steps, she turned back around and said, "Oh, by the way, come back inside on your own when you're done memorizing everything.

"Don't make me tell Ms. Campbell that you chose to stay out here on the field, trying to cause a scene. You know she hates it when people say her daughter is a drama queen."

Left alone on the field, I crumpled to the ground. After baking under the midday sun, the rubber track almost seemed to have melted. The moment the bare skin of my arm pressed against it, I felt a searing pain.

I forced myself back onto my feet, but all the strength seemed to have been sapped out of me. My fingers twitched, and the vocabulary list slipped through them.

As I stared at the blurry words, my lips moved ever so slightly. "Aberration… which means a departure from what is normal… Ameliorate… which means to improve a bad situation…"

I kept at it, going through all the words on the list, wondering to myself, "Are you hearing this, Mom?"