When a Mother Loves Her Reputation More

When Mom punishes me, her palms are sweaty. I know she's even more nervous than I am. She's scared that others will accuse her of favoring me. When the rest of my classmates perform poorly in class, all she does is tell them to review the lesson and do a few more exercises. But when I'm the one who does badly, she points at the field outside the window. Despite the burning midday heat of June, she commands, "Julia Swanson! You're going to stand out on the field and memorize all the words you messed up. You're not allowed to come back in until you know everything by heart!" Everyone in the classroom looks at me. One of my classmates mutters, "Ms. Campbell is being way too hard on her own daughter." Mom hears that comment, and her eyes flash with satisfaction. That's precisely what she wants everyone to see. No one will dare say she's biased toward me if she punishes me the most harshly out of all the students. "Why are you still here?" she barks at me. "Get out. You think you can get into a top college with grades like yours?" The classmate sitting next to me tugs on my sleeve and whispers, "Why don't you try asking her to go easier on you? It's blazing hot outside." I shake my head. The most futile thing I can ever do is ask Mom to go easier on me in school. She prides herself on her professionalism as a teacher. It's a matter of principle to her. But she has forgotten that it's over 104 degrees Fahrenheit outside. Not wanting to disappoint her, I stand out in the sun. The blazing hot air dries up my sweat—and my tears. Eventually, my vision goes blurry. The world seems to spin around me… As I collapse onto the ground, I hear Mom tell her colleague, "I'll just get a popsicle as a gesture and bring that stubborn daughter of mine back inside later." She has no idea that I won't be able to accept her olive branch anymore. Chapter 1 The midday sun in June turned the school field into a scorching oven. The back of my top had long since been soaked through with sweat before drying again from the sweltering heat, leaving stains behind. I was still clutching a sheet of paper—the list of vocabulary I needed to memorize. Muddled by my sweat, the words on the paper had blurred beyond recognition. A few students were leaning against a windowsill on the third floor of the classroom building, looking downward. One of them muttered, "It's been almost an hour, and Ms. Campbell still hasn't called her back in. Isn't that a bit too harsh?" Someone else replied even more quietly, "Why do you care when her own mother doesn't feel bad about it?" The window slammed shut. I could hear the hum of the air conditioning coming from the classroom, but the cool air that everyone else got to savor wasn't mine to enjoy. Suddenly, a pair of canvas sneakers stopped in front of me. Chelsea Leach, the class representative, slowly began to circle me while holding a stack of notebooks. She cocked her head to the side and glanced at me. "Are you alright, Julia? You look terrible," she remarked. I couldn't make a sound. She stuck her hand out to touch my forehead before yanking it back with a jolt. "You're burning up!" Frowning, she glanced at the classroom building, and the look of concern vanished from her face. "Poor you, Julia," Chelsea commented while flicking the vocabulary list I was clenching. "Ms. Campbell made the others copy the words and definitions twice, but you were sent to stand out here in the field instead… You must hate her, right?" I vehemently shook my head. "Oh, drop the act," Chelsea said before leaning in to whisper in my ear. "Do you know what everyone says behind your back? They say you only get to come in first every time because your mom tells you the exam questions in advance." "That's not true…" I tried my best to clarify. "That's not true, you say? Then why do you score better than me every time, huh?" Chelsea snapped, her smile replaced with a glare. "I stay up until 2:00 am reviewing the study material and doing mock exam papers while you get lucky because the homeroom teacher is your mom. "Your mom's only trying to put on a show to deceive everyone by letting you stand out here to suffer for a bit. Once the performance is over, she's still going to fuss over you and do whatever it takes to help you get ahead." Just then, Ian Wright, one of our classmates who sat next to me, came running over with a bottle of cold water. He was sweating profusely from the heat. "Julia! I brought you some water…" Chelsea whipped around and stood directly between Ian and me. "What do you think you're doing, Ian?" "She's about to faint! What's wrong with me bringing her some water?" Ian retorted. Chelsea grabbed his hand with the outstretched bottle. "Ms. Campbell already said that Julia isn't allowed back inside until she's memorized everything. If you bring her water now, won't that just make it seem like Ms. Campbell is giving her own daughter special treatment? "Why didn't you bring Tommy Newton any water when he was instructed to stand outside as punishment, huh? Are you treating Julia differently just because she's the teacher's daughter?" Ian's hand froze in midair. Still staring fixedly at him, Chelsea continued in a grim tone, "Ms. Campbell hates it when people accuse her of playing favorites. What will she think if she finds out that you brought Julia water? Are you trying to help Julia or make things worse for her?" Ian clutched the bottle tightly, unable to decide what to do. After glancing at Chelsea and me, he chewed his lip for a moment before setting the bottle down on the ground and taking two steps backward. "Help me keep an eye on her then, Chelsea. If she's really having a hard time, tell Ms. Campbell about it," he said. Chelsea smiled. "Leave it to me." Ian turned around and started heading back inside, looking over his shoulder every few steps. Once he left, Chelsea looked down at the bottle of water. She picked it up and slowly twisted the cap off in front of me. The wind brought the coolness from the icy water over to me, brushing it against my face. My cracked lips twitched instinctively. "Want to have some?" Chelsea asked as she brought the bottle to my mouth. Just when the bottle was about to touch my lips, however, she flicked her hand, and all the water spilled onto the scorching track on the field. The water sizzled, turning into steam. "You can have water when you're done memorizing the words." Chelsea tossed the empty bottle into a nearby trash can and walked back to the building. When she reached the steps, she turned back around and said, "Oh, by the way, come back inside on your own when you're done memorizing everything. "Don't make me tell Ms. Campbell that you chose to stay out here on the field, trying to cause a scene. You know she hates it when people say her daughter is a drama queen." Left alone on the field, I crumpled to the ground. After baking under the midday sun, the rubber track almost seemed to have melted. The moment the bare skin of my arm pressed against it, I felt a searing pain. I forced myself back onto my feet, but all the strength seemed to have been sapped out of me. My fingers twitched, and the vocabulary list slipped through them. As I stared at the blurry words, my lips moved ever so slightly. "Aberration… which means a departure from what is normal… Ameliorate… which means to improve a bad situation…" I kept at it, going through all the words on the list, wondering to myself, "Are you hearing this, Mom?" Chapter 2 All of a sudden, a sense of weightlessness came over me. I found myself drifting up to the third-floor hallway of the classroom building. The faculty office, which Mom shared with the other teachers, was at the end of the corridor. Its door was ajar, and I saw her hurrying into the office, a plastic shopping bag swinging from her hand. It bore the logo of the convenience store right outside the school. Mom sat at her desk and took a strawberry ice cream out of the bag. That was my favorite flavor. Her lips lifted ever so slightly as she looked at it. After storing it away in the mini fridge, she muttered to herself, "She's been standing outside for almost an hour now. That's enough to prove my principles and professionalism as a teacher. It's almost time for me to bring that stubborn girl back inside." She opened a drawer at her desk, took out a sports drink, and set it down on her desk. After pausing in thought for a moment, she retrieved a small towel as well. "When I bring her back inside later, I'll prepare a damp towel and wipe her down with it." My soul hung in the air, my chest so tight that it felt as if someone were squeezing it. Mom truly did love me. She just needed a reasonable "setup" before she backed down. She had to make sure everyone got a good look at how her own daughter had been punished far worse than the other students before she finally "relented" and brought me back in. That way, she could carry on being the righteous and principled Ms. Campbell, known for being fair and impartial. Mom had already started stuffing the towel into her bag when the door to the faculty office flew open. Ian was panting, his forehead covered in sweat as he leaned against the doorframe. "Ms. Campbell! It's Julia... I think she passed out! She's lying completely still on the track. Her face has gone purple. I called out to her, but she didn't respond at all!" Mom's body stiffened, the towel slipping from her hand onto the floor. "What did you just say?" "Julia fainted! You have to check on her now, Ms. Campbell!" Ian was so agitated that his eyes had gone red. Mom grabbed the sports drink from her desk and started rushing toward the door. "Ms. Campbell!" Another voice rang out. Chelsea appeared in the doorway, still holding a stack of notebooks. "Calm down, Ms. Campbell. You don't need to rush out." Mom paused in her tracks and asked, "What do you mean by that?" After coming into the office and setting down the notebooks, Chelsea reported, "I just came back from the field. Julia hasn't fainted. I saw her myself." Ian glared at her. "That's bullshit! Her face has gone purple, and she isn't moving at all! How can you say she hasn't fainted?" "Ian!" Chelsea frowned. Turning to Mom, she lowered her voice and commented, "I don't want to be too blunt about this, Ms. Campbell, but I saw Julia asking Ian for water just now." Mom's hand stiffened. Sighing, Chelsea continued, "She even told Ian that you'd be coming out any minute now to call her back inside. She said you always do this—you'd punish her and then bend over backward trying to make it up to her. And Ian did bring her some water after that, but I stopped him." A short silence fell over the office. Mom's expression had changed. Gone was the worry in her eyes. It was replaced by the fury and mortification at having been exposed in public. "What on earth are you talking about, Chelsea?" Ian cried out frantically. "Julia said no such thing!" "Regardless of what she said, I saw you giving her a bottle of water." Chelsea eyed him, her expression unruffled. "Why don't I see you doing the same favor for other people when they get punished, huh? Are you only doing it because she's Ms. Campbell's daughter? If that's the reason why, then how do you expect Ms. Campbell to maintain her dignity in front of all the other students?" Mom let go of the sports drink. She slowly sat down at her desk once more and stuffed the towel back into the drawer. Ian looked at her in disbelief. "Aren't you going to check on Julia, Ms. Campbell? She's really in a bad way—" "Ian." Mom cut him off. "Do you think I don't know what my own daughter's like?" Ian's lips parted, but Mom went on, "If she was really about to faint, she wouldn't have had the strength to ask you for water." She massaged her forehead and closed her eyes wearily. "Go back to class. No one is allowed to go to the field. Anyone who does will be given an automatic fail for their next quiz." Ian looked like he'd been slapped in the face. He stood frozen, his body trembling and his fists clenched. Chelsea gave him a seemingly understanding pat on the shoulder. "Let's go, Ian. Ms. Campbell knows what she's doing. You'll only be causing more trouble by making such a big deal out of everything." Ian shrugged her hand off and stormed out of the office in a huff. The door closed behind him. Chelsea hadn't left yet. Still standing beside Mom, she murmured, "Ms. Campbell, the students from the class next door were leaning against the windowsill to look down at the field just now. Many of them were saying that you were only putting on a show by punishing your own daughter. They said you'd definitely be bringing her back to class in no time." Mom's fingers curled tightly around the sports drink. She threw it back inside the drawer before declaring, "If Julia wants to stay out there, she can go right ahead. If I go down there now, everyone will assume it's proof that they were right." Chelsea secretly smirked to herself before asking, "Why don't I bring the ice cream cup to Julia for you, Ms. Campbell? I'll just tell everyone it's a kind gesture from a fellow classmate, so it has nothing to do with you." Mom thought about it before waving off that idea. "Forget it. Let's just wait a little longer," she said while glancing at the fridge. "I'll see how things go later. I know what Julia's temper is like. She's a stubborn girl, but she's not beyond reason." Mom truly had no idea that I was no longer able to wait for her to come around. Chapter 3 When I drifted back to the field, I saw my own body lying face-down on the running track, completely motionless. My clothes had dried under the blazing sun. Pressed against the track, the side of my right arm was red and blistered from the heat. My lips were cracked and pale. At that moment, the door to the sports equipment shed creaked open. Mr. Hodge, the PE teacher, came out with a bin filled with basketballs. As he passed by, he noticed someone sprawled on the ground, catching him off guard. He called out, "What year are you in? Why are you lying on your stomach out here in the middle of the day instead of being in the classroom?" But once he came closer and got a better view of my condition, his expression stiffened. "What's going on with her?" He crouched down and pressed a hand to my forehead, immediately jerking it backward the moment his fingers touched my skin. "What the hell? She must've fainted from the heat!" He dumped the bin of basketballs on the side and flipped me over before pulling his phone out to call 911. But the moment the call connected, a window on the third floor of the building flew open. Mom leaned out, bracing herself against the windowsill as she looked down. "Mr. Hodge! What are you doing?" Mr. Hodge, who'd just given the dispatcher the school address, looked up and shouted, "Your daughter fainted, Ms. Campbell. I'm on the phone with 911!" "Drop the call! You drop that call right this instant, Mr. Hodge!" He froze, the phone still pressed to his ear. Mom rushed down the stairs at the end of the hallway and burst through the glass door of the classroom building. The heat hit her right in the face, and the wind swept her hair backward. Ten seconds later, she reached Mr. Hodge. "Drop the call," she repeated. Mr. Hodge looked at his phone, then at me lying on the ground. "Ms. Campbell, take a look at your daughter first and—" "I told you to drop the call!" Mom snapped before lowering her voice. "I'm warning you, Nathan Hodge. You need to think carefully. If you call 911 about this, what do you think the headlines will end up being? "Will it say that a teacher from a certain high school made a student stand under the blazing hot sun, causing the student to faint? You think the school won't end up on the front page of every newspaper after that?" Mr. Hodge swallowed hard. "And when the Department of Education launches an investigation into this matter, do you think I'll be the only one who gets investigated? Shall I tell them about the time you made students run a mile in 100-degree weather for their fitness test?" Mr. Hodge's phone was still raised to his ear. On the other end, the dispatcher kept calling out, "Hello? Hello? Please confirm the address..." Mom stared at him, but his hand didn't move, so she snatched the phone from him and said, "Sorry about this. It was just a false alarm. The student is fine. She just has a bit of heatstroke. We can handle it ourselves." She crouched down and grabbed my arm. "Get up, Julia." But my body was like a sack of deadweight, flopping right back down after she tried to pull me up. She gave yet another hard tug, and my scalded arm scraped against the track, leaving a fresh trail of blood. For a moment, I saw her expression wavering a little. Even she was startled by how hot it was. But she glanced behind her and saw that every window of the building was filled with faces. Dozens of eyes were fixed on her. Mom gritted her teeth and snapped, "Just how much longer are you going to keep this up, Julia? The entire school is looking at you. How much more are you trying to humiliate me?" Mr. Hodge became rather agitated. "Check her forehead, Ms. Campbell. That's not the normal temperature for someone—" "Mr. Hodge!" Mom straightened up and glared at him. "I'm going to say this one last time—Julia's my daughter, and I know her better than you! "She has always been like this, even when she was little. She fakes an illness whenever she doesn't feel like studying. If I bring her back inside now, everything I've ever said to the students throughout this semester would end up sounding like a complete joke!" She looked down at my limp body sprawled out on the ground, her gaze stern and bitter. Leaning down, she whispered into my ear, "Just stick it out for one more period, Julia. I'll bring you back inside after that. I got you some ice cream. It's strawberry, your favorite." Then she stood up again and declared harshly in front of everyone, "If you can't remember the words, then don't bother coming back inside! You can stay out here and reflect on yourself!" She turned on her heels and walked back to the building, her heels clacking loudly on the concrete path. Mr. Hodge shouted from behind, "You'll regret this, Ms. Campbell!" Mom paused for a brief moment, but she didn't look back. Chapter 4 I floated high above the track, watching as Mom walked briskly, her figure soon disappearing into the classroom building. As the door swung shut behind her, I caught her lifting a hand to hurriedly wipe at her eyes. Alas, she had no idea that I would never get to eat the ice cream she said she'd prepared for me. Mr. Hodge was the only one left on the track. He crouched beside me, hesitating for a long time. After glancing toward the students watching from the third floor, he finally dragged my body over to the base of the flagpole, where there was a small patch of shade. "Just hang in there a little longer," he said to me. After taking off his cap to cover my face, he got up and walked away with the bin of basketballs. Still, the patch of shade was far too small. As the sun started to move westward, the flagpole's shadow shrank inch by inch. Ten minutes later, it was completely gone, and I was exposed to the blazing sun once again. My body was still twitching a little, the movement barely visible. My sweat stopped coming ages ago, and my skin, once flushed from the heat, had turned into a sickly, pallid gray. But my fingers were still curled around the vocabulary list, refusing to let go of the paper that was wrinkled from my earlier sweat and now covered in dirt as well. Hovering in the air, I looked down at the piece of paper. The words were beyond recognition. I didn't know how much time had passed before my body stopped moving completely. At that very moment, it felt as if my soul had been set free. I no longer had that hazy feeling, as if I were hovering on the brink of life and death. My soul had truly detached itself from my body. Back in the classroom, the bell rang. Mom stood in front of the class and opened the textbook. "Turn to page 137. Today, we'll cover the final chapter." Her voice was louder than usual. She spoke faster than usual. When she reached an important point, she turned around and began writing on the blackboard. The chalk she used snapped three times. As she bent down to pick up the broken chalk, her eyes drifted absentmindedly toward the field outside. But it was too far for her to get a clear view of anyone out there. Chelsea suddenly piped up, "Ms. Campbell, Julia has already been standing outside for two hours. Should I go out there and tell her to come back inside?" The classroom fell silent. Everyone looked at Mom. She drummed her fingers against the desk twice before saying, "That won't be necessary. She'll come back inside once she finally sees sense. I'm not going to waste my time enabling her behavior." Chelsea nodded obediently before turning toward the window. For a brief moment, her lips curled into a smirk. Soon, the fifth period was over. Mom closed her lesson plan and exhaled slowly. She went back to the faculty office and opened the fridge, pulling out the strawberry ice cream cup. A layer of condensation beaded across the packaging. She wrapped the bottom with some tissue before heading downstairs, having already mentally rehearsed what she was going to say. "This will do, Julia. Your attitude today has been acceptable enough. You can come back inside now." Just like that, she would gloss over everything with an offhanded statement that still conveyed her authority clearly. She would then stuff the ice cream into my hand without saying anything else. Mom was confident she was an expert when it came to utilizing the tacit understanding between a mother and her daughter. When she opened the glass door, the heat washed over her again. Narrowing her eyes against the glare, she swiftly headed toward the running track. Even from a distance, she spotted someone lying beneath the flagpole. "What a stubborn girl. She's really digging her heels in." She quickened her pace, only to come to an abrupt stop. Over a dozen students had gathered near the edge of the track. Some had covered their mouths, and some were backing away. One female student was crouched on the ground, dry-heaving. Frowning, Mom pushed through the crowd. "Excuse me. Make way, please. Julia, get up. I got you—" The rest of her words died in her throat. She finally saw the state my body was in. The scalded skin on my arm had almost fused into the track, and my exposed flesh was now covered in dirt. My face was ashen. My lips were a dark shade of purple. My eyes were half open, but my pupils weren't moving. The strawberry ice cream cup fell out of Mom's hand. It spilled onto the burning track, turning into a pink puddle within seconds. She lunged toward me, dropping to her knees and shaking my shoulders. "That's enough, Julia! Stop causing a scene. I've come to get you. I got you some ice cream. It's strawberry, your favorite…" My head lolled limply from side to side as she shook my body, as though there were no bones left in my neck. Mom held a finger under my nose and soon began to shake uncontrollably. "Julia…" Ms. Emery, the school nurse, squeezed through the crowd and pressed her fingers to my neck to feel a pulse. Ten seconds later, she looked pityingly at Mom and said, "Ms. Campbell… she's gone."