Chapter 22: Another First Lesson

The winter term was commencing, and the Christmas holidays were out of the way, when Mrs. Wilson indicated that she would like to meet with the two us. We spoke briefly beforehand, but didn't think that there was any real problem to be concerned about, so after school we wandered into Mrs. Wilson's classroom and closed the door.

When we were seated, and greetings were out of the way, Mrs. Wilson explained the reason for her request to meet. "We've ... well sort of ... we've got a bit of a problem."

I was a little surprised at her hesitancy, and asked, "What kind of problem? Has someone figured out what we're doing?"

"Actually, it's kind of the opposite. You've kept it so quiet that almost no one knows how you stand, and no one knows that you're doing it on purpose. I've heard one or two comments in the teacher's lounge about your performance, and I think the vice-principal has seen the numbers since he deals with academic performance statistics. But I don't think anyone but the three of us knows that you're tied for first, and had planned it that way all along."

"Okay, so what's the problem?"

"You've got competition ... well sort of."

"I don't think I understand. How can we 'sort of' have competition?"

She sighed heavily, and didn't speak for a moment. "This kind of goes against my ethics, but I don't know quite what to do, and I'm worried. Somehow, I think you might be able to help."

"Well, we can't do anything without more information..."

"You're right, you're right ... okay, here goes. There is another student who is coming up behind you. In terms of school-wide standings, there's you two, then him, and everyone else is a distant third."

"Is there a chance he'll beat us?"

"That's the problem; there isn't a chance at all. If he gets a perfect score on every assignment, and every test in every subject, and even if he does every extra-credit assignment, and then gets a perfect score on his final exams, he will still fall about five percent short of you two. That of course assumes that you two continue at the pace you've set. I can't see why that would change, unless you get hit by a bus."

"Well, we're not planning on that ... getting hit by the bus, that is. We are still planning to be tied for first place. So, if he can't catch us, then what's the problem?"

"Here's where I get into weird ethical situations, since I have to reveal personal information about another student. I'm not supposed to, I'm actually legally bound not to, but I am afraid for this student's well-being if I don't. And talking to his parents isn't an option."

"You know that anything you tell us is safe. We respect you too much, and we've been very happy for your support in our little endeavour, so your security is guaranteed. We're here to help, if we can."

She took a deep breath, then said, "The problem is that, obviously, this kid doesn't know he can't win. He is burning the candle at both ends working to make valedictorian, and he will be devastated when he doesn't make it, especially when he finds out that he has been beaten by two other kids, and not just one. I am actually afraid that he might have a breakdown."

"And you can't talk to his parents?"

"Here's where it gets tricky ... it's a cultural issue. The kid is Asian, and his parents don't live here. He's actually on a student visa of some kind, and is living with relatives. They report to his parents every week, and his father comes down especially hard on him if he thinks he's been slacking. His father is some kind of high-powered business executive, and he is having his son educated here to ensure that he gets a Western education. I think he wants the kid to open up businesses here when he's finished his education. In the father's eyes, not coming in first means having failed, and that brings shame on the family."

"You're worried about what the kid will do if he fails? Are you worried that he might commit suicide or something?"

"Yes. I hadn't put it into words before, but that's what scares me."

I thought for a moment, then asked, "What's this kid like? I mean as a person. Does he have friends, interests outside school... ?"

"Well, he's a really nice kid. Excellent manners, dresses well ... again, that's probably cultural. He's a bit like you, in that he's a bit of a geek ... no offence ... but I think his life is school, study, eat, sleep."

"I have a germ of an idea. What's the kid's name, and where might I find him?"

"His name is Jason Wu. He's about shoulder height to you, slim build, and his last class each day is Chemistry, Room 218, so you should be able to find him there after the final period bell."

"Okay, leave it with me. If my idea works, you'll probably see a change in his attitude in a week or so. If it fails, then we may need to find a Plan B. I'll keep you posted either way."

"Thank you. This has been bothering me for a couple of weeks, and I really hope you can do something."

As we left the room, my love looked at me and asked, "What are you going to do? Have you got something sneaky in mind?"

"Right now, all I have is the smallest germ of an idea, and no thought as to whether it will work, but I think it's worth a shot. If it works, I'll tell you all about it. If it fails, well, then it might be up to you to propose something, because I'll likely be out of ideas."

"Ah, as per usual, it will be up to me to clean up after your mistakes." She giggled as she made the remark and winked at me when I looked at her with a scowl on my face.

At the end of the school day, I was in the hallway outside Room 218, waiting for the final bell. Within seconds after the bell, the door flew open and a stream of students started heading out, pulling backpacks up onto shoulders and cracking jokes at each other, all of them glad for the day to be over.

Jason Wu was fairly easy to spot from Mrs. Wilson's description, and I insinuated myself into the stream of students to place myself directly in his path. He paused when he saw me in front of him, and I had the impression that this kid had been bullied at some point in his life; he showed the lack of confidence that was common to kids in that situation. I had seen it too many times in the past, although my height had saved me from anything really serious in the past.

As he was about to step around me, I called his name. He froze, as he knew that I was a stranger to him, and his gaze locked on mine. "We need to talk."

"What do you mean? I don't know you. What do we have to talk about?"

I directed him over to the other side of the hallway, then noticed that there was an empty classroom so I motioned him into it. He followed slowly, and I could see that he was quite worried about something.

It struck me that he was afraid of me starting something physical, so I said, "Relax, dude. I'm not here to beat you up or steal your lunch money. I just want to talk."

He still looked very wary. "What about?"

"You're trying to be valedictorian this year, right?"

His eyes widened slightly. "What do ... how do you know?"

"Don't worry about how I know, it doesn't matter. What matters is this ... you're not going to make it."

A strange look crossed his face. It almost seemed to be panic, or fear. "What do you mean? I'm ahead of everybody else in my class."

"But you're not ahead of all of the other seniors."

"That doesn't matter. I can beat them by the end of the year."

"No ... you can't. I'm sorry."

"How? Are you going to stop me?"

"In a way." At his sudden look I quickly added, "No, no, I'm not going to do anything to you, but you should know that there are two other students ahead of you."

He made a dismissive noise and flapped a hand. "Only two? I can beat them easily."

"No, you can't. They're too far ahead of you. Even if they blow everything through the rest of the year, which they won't, and even if you get a perfect score on absolutely every piece of work from now until June, you can't win. The gap is too big. The math isn't wrong."

He stared at me for a long time, saying nothing. Suddenly, it was as if all of the air had been let out of him, and he slumped into a seat, dropping his head into his hands. A moment later I could see tremors going through his shoulders, and I was fairly certain he was crying. I sat quietly, waiting him out, waiting for the emotional storm to subside.

He looked up a few minutes later, the tracks of tears evident on his cheeks, and asked, in a very small voice, "What am I going to do? My father will kill me."

I looked at him for a moment, thinking madly. I had the strangest feeling that the biggest bully in his life had been his father, and that he had been told all his life that he wasn't very strong. As a result, he had been blindly following the path laid out for him, and had never had to deal with anything on his own. His biggest problem at this point was a lack of self-confidence. I hoped that my plan would help to cure that.

"First of all, you need to man up a little. Regardless of what your father has planned for you, it's your life, not his. At some point, he will be gone from your life, and you need to have the stones to be able to make your own decision."

"That's easy for you to say. What you do doesn't bring shame on your family."

"And neither does what you do. Being first in the class is nothing. Your marks are more than good enough to get into any university you want, with a full scholarship to boot. Even if your father refuses to give you a single penny, you'll still be set right through university. After your first degree, the colleges will be throwing money at you to study whatever you want. Have you decided what you're going to take?"

"My father wants me to take economics, then do an MBA."

"That's what your father wants. What do you want to do?"

"Robotics. The programming and the mechanical engineering have always fascinated me."

"Dude ... you're a man after my own heart. I'm going to do computer science, so a lot of it overlaps with yours."

"But how am I going to do it? I can't tell my father, or he'll make me come back home."

"I'd say to push that part off as long as you can, until you know you've nailed down the scholarships you need. Then you'll have the financial independence, and since you'll be a legal adult, you'll be able to apply for your own student visa, so he won't have any control over you. At the same time, you could even apply for citizenship, and the last problem will just go away."

He paused for several moments, and I could see that he was deep in thought, weighing his options. After another minute or two, he looked up at me and said, "You've made it all sound pretty easy, but I know I need to think about this for a few days." He grinned for a second, which was the first sign of a positive emotion he had shown. "After all, breaking a few thousand years of cultural tradition isn't going to be easy."

"Take the time you need, but there is one thing you need to do first."

"What's that?"

"You need to relax. Learn to take things in stride. The main reason I'm here talking to you is that one of the teachers broke an ethics rule and told me that you were heading for a burnout. She was also afraid that when you missed out on being valedictorian, you might take it really hard, and maybe even do something really bad."

"What ... you mean like hurt myself?"

"Yeah. I mean exactly that. With the pressure from your father, and what looks to me like bullying, I'd be afraid of just that."

"Was I that bad?"

"Well, I didn't know who you were until a few minutes ago, and even I can see the signs. Obviously, there are people in the school who care about their students, and that's why I was asked to talk to you."

With some hesitation, he asked, "Are you one of the people who are ahead of me?"

I debated for a moment about whether to say anything, but then decided that I needed to keep his confidence and his trust. "Yes, I am."

"You said there were two. Do you know the other one?"

"Yes, she's my girlfriend."

His eyes opened wide. "Your girlfriend? You and your girlfriend are competing for valedictorian?"

I grinned at him, and decided that I would tell him our secret, again as a way of keeping his trust. "This is between you and me, okay? No one else knows this, and no one else can know. Agreed?"

He nodded quickly, and said, "Agreed. I won't tell anyone."

"Okay. We're not in competition. We're working together, and we're tied. We're going to be the school's first co-valedictorians."

He sat back in his seat, and let out a heavy sigh. "I think I understand why I didn't stand a chance. You've been egging each other on all year, and studying together, right?"

"Better than that; we started at the beginning of junior year. We were the first two juniors last year by a good margin, and we followed the same plan for this year. We even juggled our schedules to make sure that we got the best teachers for all of our subjects. We laid this plan out before junior year even started, so no one had a chance to beat us."

He sighed again. "I think you could show my father a thing or two. But with all that work, you can't be having any fun either."

I had a hard time stifling my laughter. "Dude, I said I'm studying with my girlfriend. Do you think we're spending all of our time with our noses in books?"

As understanding dawned across his face, he blushed, and lowered his head. "Oh ... I-I think..."

"You've never had a girlfriend, have you?"

He didn't look up, and very quietly muttered, "N-No. I wasn't allowed to."

"I think we need to correct that."

"Huh? How? Does your girlfriend have a sister or something?"

"No, and I'm not introducing you to her either. You couldn't handle her. Right now, all I have is the germ of an idea, so nothing may happen."

"Are you planning to tell me what this is all about?"

I took out a pen and a notebook, and wrote an address on a piece of paper, then tore it off and gave it to him. "Are you free for a while? Do you need to be anywhere that you can't get away?"

"No. I can come and go pretty freely. The people I live with are used to me needing to go to the library or to do extra credit work."

"Okay. Meet me at that address in an hour. There's a bus that goes right by there. It's a store, so don't be put off by that. I'll meet you out front."

He looked at the slip of paper, then back at me, and finally asked, "Am I going to be kidnapped, or sold into slavery or anything like that?"

I laughed, and could see that he actually seemed to possess a lighter side; it had probably just been suppressed for years, and needed to come out. "Nothing to worry about, my friend, nothing to worry about. You'll be home safe and sound tonight, I guarantee it."

After we parted, I headed for home to drop my books and stuff and to pick up something, then grabbed a cab to the address I had given him. As I entered the store, Clara came out from the sales counter and ran to greet me. Within seconds she was wrapped around me tightly, and I knew I would not get away until I had given her a kiss, and squeezed a few of her more interesting body parts.

She was once more quite disappointed that my love wasn't with me, and I thought that one of these days I was going to have to send her on an errand to the store just so that Clara could fulfill her need to grope the body I loved so well. As I did my best to extricate myself from her grip, I asked Clara whether her Mistress was in the office. "Yes, Master, she is. Would you like me to take you there?"

"No, that's fine. I need to speak to her about something, so we need a few minutes alone. I can see you've got several customers in the store, so I'll leave you to that while I talk to her." I gave her a quick kiss and a pat on the rear, then headed for the back room and her Mistress' office.

I knocked on the door then opened it and stepped in, closing it behind me. My newest slave looked up, then quickly got out of her chair and dropped to her knees before me. "Master! This is a pleasant surprise. How may I serve you?"

I took a small box out of my jacket pocket as I said, "For the moment, stay like that. I have something for you." As she looked up at me, I opened the box and removed a gold chain made of small links. Attached to the chain was a small figurine depicting a kneeling woman, her hands behind her back. The clasp on the chain was designed to be near-permanent once it was fastened; it could only be opened by a special tool.

As I held the opened chain, I dropped to one knee and held it up to her line of sight. "Will you accept this chain as my symbol of ownership, and wear it as a collar until I have freed you?"

Her eyes glistened as they fastened on the chain, and I could hear her breath catch in her throat. When she answered, it almost sounded like a moan, so deep was her emotion. "Oh, Master ... it is beautiful, and I shall wear it with pride for so long as you shall have me. I accept your ownership of my body and my soul."