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Chapter 18
Back in high school, Elise Simmons had always been quiet and withdrawn. She didn’t like talking to people–except Noah.
Whenever they were solving problems for tests or competitions, she could speak with him fluently and confidently, as if
she had all the answers in her head.
People used to say she had a surprising duality. But the more I interacted with her,
the more off I felt.
After learning I was an art student, Elise started asking me a lot of questions–always in front of Noah.
At first, I thought she was just curious or genuinely interested, so I patiently answered.
But then she said,
“I really envy you art students. You only need a few points to get into college. It’s not like us.”
I sensed her misunderstanding and tried to clarify.
“It’s not like that. We work really hard too.”
“Even so, at least you have art as an option. A lot of kids from regular families can’t afford to take art classes. Studying is
their only choice.”
I replied,
“That’s not always true. Look at Noah–he doesn’t study art, but he’s still amazing.”
“Yeah, well, a lot of rich kids don’t even have to take college entrance exams. Their parents send them to art school and
then abroad to polish their résumés. Just like you, right?”
She threw the question back at me.
I wasn’t sure what she was trying to get at, but the conversation made me uncomfortable.
I had never planned to study abroad. Noah and I had agreed–we’d go to college together.
And at the time, our homeroom teacher had told me I was hardworking and talented, and if I stuck with it, I’d have no problem getting into any of the top art academies.
But when I shared that with Elise, she didn’t seem happy for me.
“I see… So you and Noah are really close.”
Then she added,
“But can you actually get into the university Noah wants to go to? Art teachers say stuff like that all the time–how else are art students supposed to keep going?”
“It’s like how failing students need encouragement too.”
Chapter 18
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留螯(日本吹赞版)
She mumbled that last part.
There was a forced smile on her face, but her eyes were completely blank.
Back then, I didn’t understand why Elise Simmons seemed to have such a bias against art students.
Later, I realized that her bias wasn’t toward art students.
It was toward me.
And that bias slowly turned into malice.
During our final year of high school, her subtle hostility was everywhere, like a venomous snake lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.
In the end, she delivered a fatal blow.
And all of it was because of Noah.
Chapter 18
