Let it shine

I have always prided myself on my intelligence. Ever since I was little, there was no test I couldn’t pass, no problem too difficult to resolve. I adored school because it gave me an opportunity to showcase my abilities and to prove how much smarter I was compared to regular kids. I know I might sound conceited, but there’s nothing wrong in telling the truth. Why indulge in fake honesty? I was born with an extraordinary brain and I was never going to pretend I was ordinary.

When I was fifteen years old, I was accepted into the most prestigious high school in the country: Elay high school for gifted kids. I was delighted, but not surprised. All my life I had worked towards perfection and given my excellent grades, there was no way I wouldn’t be accepted. With its reputation for making bright minds shine even brighter, my high school experience was going to be everything I’ve always dreamed of: competition against equally - or almost equally - smart kids. Coming from a legacy of gifted people, both my parents attended Elay’s program and were even part of a secret and prestigious club - the Yenom. They only accepted the top students - the smartest of the smartest - and had weekly meetings where they discussed the most intricate and interesting topics. It was commonly known that if you did manage to get in, your life was set. They had connections everywhere and it wouldn’t be difficult to get yourself into any college you wanted. To work with the world’s smartest people. I could not wait to be part of highly stimulating conversations. However, they also warned me about how difficult it could be to get in. Not simply because of the competition, but the secrecy of the club meant you had to find the group and their reunions by yourself. There were no posters inviting you to get in. But I wasn’t worried. I wanted it badly, more than anyone and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to get in.

I can perfectly recall my first day of school. Bubbling with excitement, I was absolutely fascinated by it all. The moment I walked in Elay’s, I knew I was where I was meant to be. The halls were spacious, carved in beautiful stone with intricate, ancient shapes. Students walked, fast and confident. Everyone wore the same dark blue uniform with gold ornaments and the school's symbol on their chest. I knew I would thrive in a competitive environment, and I was excited to be challenged. I arrived a little early, just to make sure I wouldn’t miss a thing. I walked into my first class, advanced mathematics. The door stood over me, tall and dark. The room was large, filled with wooden desks and a gigantic chalkboard. A little old fashioned, but I trusted their methods.

The three-hour class flew by. The teacher’s input in some of the problems gave me a whole new view of numbers. This was nothing like my old school; here I would be actually advancing my education. I was sure this was going to be a great year. As I was leaving my desk, daydreaming about my next class - ap chemistry - someone bumped into me, harshly, dropping all my books on the floor.

– Hey! Watch where you’re going! – I yelled.

I turned around looking for the culprit, but only caught a glimpse of a blonde ponytail leaving the room in a hurry, practically running.

– She could have at least apologized. So rude. – I thought.

I looked down, angry, as I noticed my things scattered on the floor. Those books were expensive and ruining them on the first day would be a bummer. I rapidly started to pick up my things when I noticed something shiny, wrapped in the middle of some pages. I didn’t particularly enjoy glitter, so I knew it didn’t belong to me. I reached for it and realized it was a small golden card with some blue writing. How peculiar. As I tried to understand what it said, the bell rang. I suddenly realized the classroom was empty and I was the only one left. I picked up the rest of my things, put the card in my pocket and left for chemistry. That could wait.

The clock marked five thirty when the final bell rang, enunciating the end of the first day of school. My classes were interesting, but there was something else occupying my mind. What was that golden ticket? I hadn’t looked at it again, as it was still resting in my skirt’s uniform pocket, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something important. I could feel its weight, almost getting heavier, beginning me to read it.

I got home rather quickly and ran to my room. I closed the door, sat on my bed and took out the ticket. I was scared and excited at the same time. I read the words, written in beautiful blue cursive letters:

“234 2010 1930 faith htiaf yenom”

I frowned in confusion. That didn’t mean anything, just random numbers and letters. Except for the last word. Yenom. Wasn’t that...? Was this… was this about Yenom’s club? I mean it had to be. A secret golden ticket, a phrase to decipher. However, once I realized it was about the secret club, the rest was rather simple to comprehend. It could only be the place and the date for the first secret reunion. 20/10. 19:30. Room 234. I just couldn’t quite figure out what “htiaf” meant. It was obviously faith backwards, but what could it mean? Faith in yenom, in the club? It didn’t really matter. Now that I knew where the secret reunion was, I could just show up and demand my spot. Could it be that simple to get in? And then, almost like a dream, I had a vivid memory from earlier that day. The blonde girl. She was in a hurry and probably dropped the ticket by accident. Well, I knew I would find the club, but I didn’t know it would be so easy. But that couldn’t be it, obviously. Such a prestigious society had to at least require a test, something to prove your worth, to prove you belonged there. Maybe that was what it was. The date and the place of the first challenge. I checked the date again. It was that Friday.

The first week of school went by and I could barely think about my academic responsibilities. My brain was completely stuck on that little piece of gold. What could the test possibly be about? Math and physics? Just general knowledge questions? What if it was specifically about the school’s history? I hoped that my brain was enough to prove myself, but still, I had a feeling there was something more, something I needed to know.

Finally, Friday arrived. For the first time in my life, I was genuinely nervous about my performance in a test. Entering Yenom’s secret club could open so many doors, it could help me use my smarts to achieve the unthinkable. There was no time for doubts or second thoughts. I could not mess up.

As I walked through the halls, I tried to ground myself. Being nervous would only mess up my performance. I looked at the beautiful walls that reminded me of a castle I went to visit once, when I was little. I looked at my shoes, my uniform shoes, and remembered I was just as deserving as the rest of the freshman that would try to enter the club. I took it out of my pocket and looked at the golden ticket, my passage to grandiosity. I looked to my right and saw golden numbers on the door: 234. This was it.

I entered the room, a fake confidence pushing me in. The lights on the ceiling were turned off and the only brightness came from what seemed like hundreds of candles distributed in the room, making the room filled with creepy shadows. There were about half a dozen students lined up against the wall. I recognized some of them from my classes, but it was hard to tell given they were all looking down, in a kind of weird bow. On the other side of the class, three students stood tall. Instead of being dressed like regular students, they were wearing dark, Harry Potter-like, robes and beautifully made masks with golden ornaments. I noticed one of the students had a blond ponytail. Was it the same girl? She didn’t look like she needed a ticket to be there. Could it… could it have been on purpose? Could I have been actually invited to Yenom’s club?

The three masked students took an impressively coordinated step and said in a single voice.

– Sit. Name. Desk.

Well, for a club full of the smartest people, they really could use a more diverse vocabulary. I looked for a table with my name and quickly found it in the last row. Olivia Jonhson was printed, once again, in cursive blue letters. I brushed my fingers along the letters, feeding on the possibilities. But that didn’t feel like it was printed. It wasn’t: it was carved into the table. They really weren’t playing around.

The three students turned around and grabbed a stack of golden papers, which they quickly started to distribute. My hands were sweating as the blonde girl dropped the test on my table. I needed to absolutely crush this. I knew they only accepted a few people each year, so I needed to outperform everyone in this room. The three students went back to where they were previously, and once again, said in a single voice.

– Start. Now.

I flipped the page, a hundred thoughts running through my head. There was an infinity of possibilities, of questions they could ask for me to prove my worth. I skimmed through the first page, something about keeping the secrecy. I was in the middle of reading their terms when I realized I had no idea how much time I had to complete the assignment. I quickly signed it with my name and looked for the first question. I was ready for anything. This was it. First question:

“How much do your parents make?”

I was confused. There was no right answer to that. Every single person here had a different answer. Was this like an interview part? I mean they had my name carved on a desk, maybe they were serious about knowing their possible members. It didn’t matter. I cleaned the sweat that was now dripping for my forehead and looked for the second question, the real challenge. Question number two:

“What ideas do you have for purifying the school?”

My brain felt like it was going to explode. None of these questions were testing my smarts. What did they even mean by purifying? I started to feel the panic rising, maybe I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I looked around, hoping someone, anyone, felt as confused as I was. But the room fell quiet, everyone was writing intensively. I hadn’t gotten into the hard questions yet. That had to be it. I turned the page, took a deep breath, and read the third question:

“In what ways should undeserving students be punished?”

Undeserving students...? It couldn’t be. None of this made any sense. Was this a joke? Were they making fun of me? I took the golden ticket out of my pocket, trembling, a shy hand putting it on my table, hoping no one would notice me. I looked at the words I had been obsessing with over the last week. Faith yenom. Yenom Faith. Faith… money. Yenom backwards is money. How could I have never noticed that?

And then it hit me. It all made so much sense now. This had nothing to do with my smarts, with anyone's smarts. There was a reason I got this card, a reason only a few students get in and a reason this club is named freaking money. I couldn’t even call it a club, this was a cult, a goddamn cult for rich, legacy kids. They did not care about your brain; they cared about your money. Did my parents condone this? They wanted to kick off the scholarship students and probably everyone who wasn’t a legacy. This was insane. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, I had to get out of there, I couldn’t be part of this. My vision became blurry, my hands were sweating, panic rising as a shadow fell over me. I turned my head up, ready for being kicked out of the room and saw the blonde girl, simply staring at me. She bent down and whispered in my ear:

– Sometimes things need to burn so other things can shine.

Her words floated around my head, begging for me to hear them. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. And then I really got it. It did not matter what I thought of it, if this was a cult or not. This was the most prestigious club in the school for a reason: it could get you places. They wanted legacy kids, because they wanted more connections. This place gave you a future, it was not due to your smarts, but it was clearly a future. A bright, secure, future. Before returning to her place, the blonde girl put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a soft pat.

I knew what I had to do. I had no choice; I couldn’t lose everything I had worked for. It’s not my fault my parents earn a lot, I’m not smart because of that. It’s not my fault this is the only way to get what I want. I need to think about my future. I was not being selfish; I was being smart.

I delivered the test and left, knowing damn well that spot was mine.