Note: Bolded question taken from 1999 AP Chemistry Exam.
I ran along the edge to get to class, my chip beeping at me to hurry up, or I'd lose 10 points. My rank on the leaderboard this week was 108 in my age group, with a total of a meager 500 points this past week; losing 10 points is not going to help my case at all, especially with the final awards looming over our heads for next week.
Thankfully, I made it to class with a minute to spare, and looked for my usual seat—near the back door—only to find that it had been taken for today, and the only desirable open seat was behind Jacob, the tallest guy in class. How was I going to learn when I couldn't see the board? Final examinations were next week, for crying out loud!
"Hey, I sit there, Candace," someone sneered at me. Richard Snyder, someone kill me now? I'm looking at you, Alyssa, who snatched someone's seat in the front of the room.
"Sorry, but I don't think we have assigned seats in this class," I shot back.
"Well," he purposely drew the word out, "I think that we should."
He then proceeded to kick me out of my seat, leaving me sprawled out on the floor, and tossed my notebook to me.
At that point, I'm pretty sure that everyone in our class was watching.
"Tch," he said in disgust, "you made me lose fifty points. Do you have any idea how difficult Calculus is?"
Actually, it's not. But I didn't dare to say that out loud. Instead, I simply got up and dusted myself off before taking the last open seat, the one next to the window, which is supposedly haunted by some evil spirit, which is why no one ever really wanted to sit there, although we had a full classroom, so someone had to sit there. Normally, the last one in had to, unless they resorted to violence to not sit in this seat, which is normally just slightly overboard. Richard was probably the most notorious for this, and as a result had to drop to last place in the rankings—110th place—with no one below him. Second to last—109th place—was taken by Maria Snyder, his sister who was one year under us. Bother that I'm in 108th place, really. It's not that I can't be higher, it's that I don't want to be higher.
But everyone wants to be higher, right? Wrong. Even though a higher position grants you things like the best jobs and the highest cash prize at the end of the year, staying near the bottom has the perk of anonymity, especially if you don't do anything to deduct points, but instead not do anything to add points. And generally, that's what I do. So, I don't take anymore extra tests, and I only accumulate points by everyday methods, such as cooking or cleaning my living space.
"So," our teacher, Mr. Browner, boomed, "what do you have to combine sodium with to create table salt?"
Chlorine. The answer is chlorine. He thinks the question will stump everyone.
It doesn't. Alyssa quickly raises her hand, and answers with chlorine. She gets five points. Hooray. She'll likely win first place this year.
Obviously, my brainy friend knows everything. And so do I. I just choose not to answer.
"Well, that was a little easy, don't you think?" he asked.
Everyone, well almost everyone, nods in affirmative.
My guess that around half of those people who nodded were lying.
"I'll write the next question on the board, since it's harder, but we should have covered it."
He then turned around and wrote the following question on the board:
Which of the following pairs of liquids forms the solution that is the most ideal (most closely follows Rauolt's Law?
A. C8H18 and H2O
B. CH3CH2CH2OH and C8H18
C. C6H14 and C8H18
D. H2SO4 and H2O
Slightly harder? A lot harder. The answer is C, because Hexane and Octane mix easily, and will have the most "ideal" behavior. Out of the group, anyway. Also because even now they haven't discovered substances which mix to have completely ideal behaviors. You'd think they have, but no, they haven't. Besides, what's the point of designing an ideal substance, anyway?
No one raised their hand for quite a while, and I pretended to be working out the answer in my notebook.
Finally, Alyssa raised her hand.
"Yes, Alyssa?" he asked.
"Um... is it A?" she seemed uncertain. She had a right to, because she was wrong.
"Wrong. Can anyone explain why?"
Because octane is non-polar and water hates non-polar molecules.
"I'm just going to call on you, Candace," he said.
"I don't know," I answered immediately.
"Answer or I'll deduct all your points," he threatened.
Damn, even though it wouldn't be that bad. I swear I heard Richard snicker in the background.
"Eh, um... octane is non-polar, right? And non-polar molecules don't mix with polar molecules."
Did I put on a good enough show? I was easily known as the student who never scored higher that 75 questions right on the exams. I knew it, and I did it on purpose.
The smart ones were always taken and corrupted. I knew that much, at least. Because if you were fighting a war, you didn't have to worry about the idiots. They were smart, really, using the point system to pick out the brightest kids. Shower them with prizes and a high position where they are brainwashed. There, no rebellion.
Too easy for the government, obviously. Very subtle control, but it existed.
I hoped that he bought it.
"Right, Miss Parry, do you know the right answer?"
Just get this over with, I thought. I answered, "C."
"Alright, ten points to you," the notification blinked in the center of my display.
"And, on to the next question," he continued, with easier questions, and as I guessed, Alyssa got them all correct.
Every. Single. One. No one else even dared to question her authority in answering Chemistry questions. I briefly wondered if she would be mad at me for getting that one question right when she had it wrong.
After class, she came up to my desk.
"Ugh," she started, "I totally forgot that octane wasn't a polar molecule."
"Doesn't matter," I replied, and gathered my things so that we could head to our next class, which was another review session where Alyssa, again, probably knew everything.
"Why doesn't it matter?" Alyssa asked, "Exams are next week! And after that, the awards ceremony! You could bump up your rank if you came to the test-taking session with me this afternoon."
"No thanks, I don't like those," I answered.
"Why would you not want to get your rank up?" she asked. She isn't normally like this. Have they gotten to her with their promises yet?
"Rank doesn't matter to me." Lie. It does matter. It matters that I get a low score.
And the bombarding continued, Alyssa clearly not understanding why I don't want to score higher.
||After School||
I lied. Maria was catching up quickly, so I went to a test-taking station to score a few more points. I didn't care if I was taking a test, as long as I was above both Maria and Richard. Those are the only two I'll ever allow myself to become competitive with.
I looked at the screen, answering only the questions with the lowest point rewards, so I came off as average, and not smart.
At the end, I scored fifty more points, bringing my total up to 560 points. I was still in 108th place—the person in 107th had 875 points—but at least I stayed ahead of the Snyder siblings. I took the transport home instead of walking, but it took less time. Plus, I made enough money with my "job" that my parents never knew about.
Besides, I was paid twofold—money and sensitive information—and I almost never slipped up.
Almost. I needed data on one thing, but I needed to get it in the dead of night, when my parents were well asleep.
When I got home, I immediately started cleaning, with notifications saying that I wracked up an additional ten points before dinner.
My parents were never home for dinner, so I had to run down to the cafeteria to pick up a few ingredients, using money that of course, my parents didn't know existed.
I ate dinner and pretended to sleep when both of my parents reached our apartment and passed out on their beds after drinking, as usual.
Looks like I would have to clean up more tomorrow. My parents were geniuses, but nothing ever kept them from drinking.
When I heard the snores, I waited just a few minutes for it to pass, then pulled out my computer, temporarily disabled the chip implanted in my chin to keep track of what I do, and dove into the darknet.
A/N: Feedback is appreciated! (don't be scared to comment. I mean it)