Chapter Text
71%
The numbers stare back at her, struck in an angry red.
Daisy blinks back tears, feeling a tremor up to her shoulders.
25/35
-10
Ten. Ten. How could she get ten whole questions wrong?
That would be a D-minus if they were on the 7-point scale, and even without, it’s still a C-minus. C-minus. Below average.
How could she mess up so badly? This wasn’t even any of her AP work; it was just a regular fourth grade test. She should’ve aced that no problem. She wants so badly to believe that her test got mixed up with someone else’s, but she can clearly see her handwriting, her answers, all marked through with an ugly red pen.
Each mark is like a stab to her chest. How is that one wrong? How is that one wrong? She was right. She’d done so well. She knew this. How could the Ms. Swanson do this to her? Daisy touches a hand to her throat, her windpipe feeling uncomfortably tight.
Ms. Swanson continues to talk, but the words are jumbled sounds. They float above Daisy’s head, too far up for her to catch, so she doesn’t try. It’s easier to stare at the test in front of her, dressed up in its ugly red scars that’ll never fade.
The bell rings, the powerful noise bursting through her bubble of panic, and Daisy quietly lets herself out, keeping her head down so that the teacher doesn’t spot her. She usually stops to chat, since she usually spends her recess in the library anyway, but she just can’t bring herself to look her teacher in the eyes after such a massive failure.
The halls are bustling with energy as the kids put away their books and scurry back to the playground. Daisy slips into the bathroom, glad that no one throws her a second glance.
The bathroom’s empty, so Daisy ducks into the farthest stall, her hands shaking so badly that she’s barely able to slide the lock into place. She can barely contain her desperate gasps for air. It feels like her lungs are too big for her chest, pounding desperately against her ribs to try and get free.
She waits until the last trace of her classmates’ chatter disappears outside before she bursts into tears. It’s only a matter of seconds before she’s full-body sobbing, her chest heaving, shoulders bouncing, and her throat closing and opening in a desperate grab for air. She plops to the floor and tucks her knees up after she’s hit by a wave of dizziness.
God, why is she such a failure?
How could she mess up so badly?
Dad will be so mad about this.
Wasn’t she supposed to be smart?
“Hey, lil crying dude.”
Daisy squeaks as she glances down to find some high schooler poking her head underneath the stall door. She hastily scrubs at her eyes, like she isn’t already completely busted.
“You doing alright?”
The bathroom door flies open. “Mandy, what the fuck are you doing?” another voice asks, this one flat and slightly annoyed.
“Um, the lil dude in here is really upset. I was checking on her.” Mandy replies.
“I’m okay.” Daisy replies in a shaky, quavering, definitely “not okay” voice. She must sound so immature, nothing like the worldly, grown-up kid she’s supposed to be.
“Okay, but do you wanna hang out with us anyway?” the other girl tries. Daisy can see from underneath the stall door that she’s sporting a pair of combat boots. “I’m gonna take a smoke break.”
“Callie, you vape.” Mandy points out.
“Yeah, but vape break doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
Daisy giggles at that, and Callie kneels, revealing a ripped pair of black jeans.
Callie chuckles back. “Come on. I’ll show you how you can get rid of the post-sobbing and panic attack look.”
Daisy bites her lip. She’s aware that if she waits, she’ll still look like a wreck by the time recess is over, and that’s only factoring in if she doesn’t start crying again—and she’s guaranteed to start crying within five minutes if left to her own thoughts.
“Okay.” Daisy stands, ignoring the stab of pain she gets from her oncoming headache, and slides the lock out of place.
Mandy and Callie grin at her.
She’s seen them before, she thinks. They look like they’d be friends with Lucien.
Callie’s decked head to toe in black, with sharp makeup on her face. She looks kind of scary, but the smile kind of ruins it.
“Oh my God, you’re adorable. Look at those freckles.” Mandy coos. She takes a wet paper towel and gently runs it underneath Daisy’s eyes. “It’s important to get the area around the eyes first. The puffy eyes are always a dead giveaway.” She ignores Daisy’s look of concern. “I watch Disney movies during my study hall and I always cry at the end. And I’m sick of my chemistry teacher trying to send me to the guidance counselor because of it.” She dabs at Daisy’s cheeks. “Okay, Callie, what do you think?”
“Looks good to me.” Daisy thinks that might just be her personality, but then Callie’s face breaks into a smile, and she looks almost sweet. “Come on. You can hang out with us.”
Daisy follows the girls out of the bathroom, her eyes darting around the empty hallway. No one’s here. In fact, it’ll probably be empty
“Um, so I have a question. You’re high schoolers. What are you even doing here?”
“I have all my credits so I have a free period, and the elementary school hired me to take calls and organize their shit,” the purple-haired girl explains.
Mandy nods. “Her secretarial work is exemplary. And my Spanish teacher couldn’t care less. She just puts on Spanish movies and then leaves to smoke.”
They go out around the side, where no one is. Daisy can still hear cries of her peers as they run and play, and she hugs herself a little. Why couldn’t she be normal and smart and do well? Now she’s the class idiot.
Mandy must realize something’s up, because she wordlessly pats Daisy’s shoulder.
Callie pulls her vape from the bag. There’s a pregnant pause before anyone speaks. “So.” Callie begins. “Wanna tell us what’s up?”
“It’s cool if you don’t want to, though.” Mandy adds. “We don’t judge.”
Daisy wordlessly pulls the already-crumpled paper from her bag and hands it over.
Mandy takes it, and Callie slides in behind her to look over her shoulder, her arms around Mandy’s waist.
Callie’s eyes widen. “Man, I’m so sorry, kid.”
“School sucks.”
“It’s a cruel capitalist machine shaping us into drones who need to take constant orders from a higher authority.”
While Daisy partially agrees, setting aside school giving the population a baseline knowledge for college, that’s beside the point. “It’s just… it’s all I’m good at.”
“I mean, you’re pretty good at being awesome.” Mandy points out. “Just saying.”
“Besides, your teacher’s probably an idiot.” Callie tells her. “Elementary school is what you teach when you can’t get your masters and aren’t good enough to teach high school.”
“It’s not her fault I’m stupid.” Daisy mutters. Ms. Swanson’s just doing her job. Just because it feels like a personal attack, like the two numbers she wrote on the front could single-handedly destroy her dad being proud of her ever again… The tight-chest feeling is back.
Callie’s eyes go wide. She doesn’t seem to like that. “Hey…”
But Daisy cuts her off before she gets a chance. “Can you help me get rid of this?” She points to her test, well aware of the lighter hanging out of Mandy’s shirt pocket.
It must come off as obvious, because Mandy falters. “Lil dude, I’m not sure about that. Lying to your parents is dope, but I don’t think I can encourage delinquency in anyone under age fifteen.”
“Ernest.” Callie points out, and Mandy immediately corrects herself.
“Age fourteen.”
“Please.” Before Daisy can stop herself, tears form in the corners of her eyes. “My dad can’t know I’m a failure.”
While the girls stare at her, lost and helpless for a brief moment, they end up nodding solemnly. Callie takes the test and mashes it into a ball shape. Mandy takes the lighter from her pocket and lights the crumpled ball. The flames dance along the edge, creeping inward, and Callie drops it at their feet.
They all watch it burn against the concrete.