Asher needed to look nice today. They were about to be around new kids their age for the first time in months, and they had to make a good impression, even if they never saw any of the other kids again. They checked themself out in their bedroom mirror: Long, wavy hair braided so it rested in the small of their back, rather than hanging past their butt. Hot pink slippah studs in their ears, a whole stack of jingly bangles around their left wrist. Loose patterned crop top over a slinky cami to hide their belly fat. Light, light blue skinny jeans that hugged their ankles, and slippahs to top off the whole operation, obviously.
It just barely passed muster with Dad. Well, that is to say, it was totally fine with Mom, but she had to think about it for a minute while she decided whether it was worth the risk of him coming home on time to see the slices of shoulder between the spaghetti straps of the cami and the slightly oversized crop top. She clattered around the kitchen in the apron she wore most mornings, half-covered in flour and distracted. “Do you have your math book? We’re going to the chapel after this, and you ought to have something to do.”
“No, I already did all my math for the week,” Ash said. “I’m bringing the Rowland Bingham biography and the Latin textbook.” They were pleased—math was easily the most annoying subject, and it was nice to have it out of the way.
Mom nodded absentmindedly, busy with biscuits. “Good plan. I like your thinking.” Ash warmed from the praise.
“Do you mind if I bring some other stuff to read once I’m done with that?” They’d already packed the books, and they were going to do it either which way.
“No, go ahead.” The timer on the counter rang, startling them both, and Mom slipped on her oven mitts to grab the biscuits from the oven.
A yawn from behind them made Ash turn around in their seat to see that their younger brother, Joshua, had emerged from his bedroom. His hair (finally turning brown after years as a blond child) wasn’t brushed, and stuck up in tufts around his cowlicks. He plopped down on the stool next to Ash, folded his arms on the kitchen counter, and laid his head down. “Can I stay home today?”
“Good morning!” Mom chirped. “No.”
Joshua grumbled into his arms, but it wasn’t a real question. The answer was never yes.
Mom placed two identical plates in front of them: two biscuits and two pieces of bacon. On the counter next to the plates, she placed a bowl of sliced mango and a jar of strawberry jam for the biscuits. Joshua was already horfing down the bacon almost before his plate hit the counter.
Mom was now bustling towards the kitchen. “I’m dropping Aubrey off at her test in half an hour. And would you please brush your hair? You look like a mess.”
“Yes, Mom,” Josh said through a mouthful of biscuit.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Josh swallowed. “Yes, Mom.”
Ash watched the exchange in silence as they spread jam on their biscuit and went through the motions of chewing and swallowing. Mostly, they were thinking about the books in their bag—a Warrior Cats novel and Love, Simon, which Mom hadn’t caught onto yet, and wasn’t going to, if Ash had anything to say about it. They always checked out a huge stack of books, too many for their parents to vet individually. As long as there was nothing at the top with words like “French Kissing” in the title (Ash had learned their lesson on that one), they were pretty much safe to read anything from the kid’s section and the YA section. It was their tiny, secret rebellion.
Fifteen minutes passed in relative silence as Mom finally slowed down enough to eat something herself. Ash finished their food, then dug the Warrior Cats book out of their backpack and tuned out of the world. These were some of their favorite books—their cousin had had one on her bookshelf the last time they went to visit, Ash had read it out of desperation and boredom, and then their life changed forever. They were kids’ books about cats, so they easily flew under the parental radar. They were also deliciously violent and full of pathos. Ash loved them.
A gentle rap of knuckles on their shoulder pulled Ash out of their reading trance. Mom hovered over them, projecting calm urgency. “Time to get going, baby. We don’t wanna be late.” Her apron was off, and her wedding band was back on her ring finger. Her hippie purse (quilted from random scraps of fabric) was slung across her chest diagonally, indicating she was in “go mode.” Ash looked around, saw a pen lying on the counter, and stuffed it into the book to mark their place.
Time to go.
This wasn’t exactly a normal test day. Most of the time, tests happened at the church across from the graveyard in Honolulu. It was a half hour drive at least, and they’d sit in a stuffy room with no air conditioner and recite a psalm before diving into their standardized tests for the year.
Ash had already done this year’s tests, though. This was something else—a placement test, sort of. Mom had said it was impossible for them to get into the school they were testing at, that nobody going into 8th grade could hope to catch up with the students that already started the curriculum in 7th grade. Still, she and Dad thought that it would be a good benchmark to see how Ash was doing in comparison to public school students. They’d taken their kids’ education into their own hands for the past four years, now, and they thought they’d done a pretty good job of it. Which was to say, for the past two years, Asher had been teaching themself math, English, and history, and their friend Kaleo’s mom was teaching them science. Their Dad taught them about politics during election years, and a neighbor a few blocks away hosted art classes in her living room. It rounded out, kind of.
But today, they were going to hang out with public school kids. This wasn’t completely unheard of, obviously. Most of the kids at church went to public school. But this was different—not every kid here went to church. That was a pool of friends that was never open to Ash. They didn’t quite understand their parents’ reasoning for making them take the test, but they weren’t going to argue—not with the chance of new friends on the line.
The school was practically walking distance from their house—definitely biking distance, but they drove anyways, because they were going to the chapel later. Ash only got to read three more pages of their book before they pulled up at the front door. Mom didn’t park, just let the car idle while she waited for Ash to get out. “I’ll be back to pick you up later, baby. I love you.”
Ash stepped out of the car and took a look around. The school was a single building, one story tall, with big glass doors leading in. Beyond, they could see a front desk staffed by two receptionists, both busy with parents, dozens of student art projects lining the back wall, and another set of sliding doors leading into what looked like a courtyard. They took a long breath, grounding their heels and the balls of their feet through the pavement, then walked through into the blasting AC.
The test was being held in the cafeteria, which looked exactly like every other school cafeteria Ash had ever seen, either in person or on TV. Huge rows of tables with attached benches of the exact same cheap plastic cut straight lines through a huge open space. The far wall had cutouts into the kitchen, which was currently dark and abandoned—school wasn’t in session this late in June. A stage jutted from the wall to Ash’s right with a lonely microphone in the center. Directly in front of them, a smiling white woman in a pencil skirt and blazer sat at a folding table covered in stacks of papers and name tags. She cleared her throat as they approached.
“Hello there! Here for the entrance exam?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Asher whispered, then tried again. “Yes, ma’am. My name’s Aubrey Laidlaw?”
The woman looked down at the pile of papers directly in front of her and rifled through until she saw whatever she was looking for. “Ah, Aubrey. Welcome.” She handed Ash a blank name tag and a sharpie. “We don’t have assigned seats, but we would like you to choose an empty table for taking the exam. Once you’re done, you may hand your exam to the proctor and go home. We’ve still got about fifteen minutes, so just set your things down and hang out until you hear more, okay?”
Ash nodded and went to grab a seat. There were only about half a dozen kids in the room so far, scattered and looking nervous. They put their backpack on an empty table to claim it, then stepped back against the wall to scan the room. Nobody they knew was here, at least not yet. Two guys sat at a table in the very back corner of the cafeteria, joking to each other loudly enough to make the space echo. A third hung out at a table by himself, Switch out and Airpods in. He looked native, his rich, koa-brown skin striking a pretty contrast against his bright green hoodie. If he wasn’t clearly busy doing his own thing, Ash might have approached him. As it was, they might shoot for “new friend” and hit “annoyance.”
A new girl entered the cafeteria, approaching the folding table lady and exchanging a name for a sticker to write it on. She had black hair chopped just above her shoulders, and she was wearing an Abercrombie shirt—the brand everyone in Ash’s youth group coveted. Her nails were painted a violent shade of neon yellow, which clashed beautifully with the otherwise sleek look. The girl settled herself at a table around the center of the room and started toying with her phone. Her eyes were a distracting deep brown, and when she smiled at something on her screen, she had a dimple on her left cheek.
Perfect friend material. Ash tried to look nonchalant as they meandered in the direction of the girl, whose name tag, once close enough to read, said “Tanya Kim.” Tanya Kim looked up as they approached with a slightly wary expression. Sitting down, Ash reached out a hand.
“Um, hi. I’m… Aubrey. Is it chill if I sit here until the test starts?”
Tanya seemed to consider this for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the interloper. Or maybe their hesitance in saying their name. Did she notice? Could she pick it out, somehow? No way.
Apparently deciding they were harmless enough, the girl nodded and gestured to the bench on the other side of the table from her. “Hi, Aubrey. Tanya.” Ash took a moment to note that they were jealous both of Tanya’s eyebrows (perfectly plucked and filled, looked like she knew what she was doing) and her ability to raise just one of them. And that she was kind of cute. They were mesmerized by how her fingers tapped across her phone’s keyboard, the nails just barely long enough to click against the glass. Now that they were closer, they could see that her nails were abstract, psychedelic designs. “Where you stay going school? I haven’t seen you before.”
Oh, right. Tanya was a year younger than them. “Nah, I’m homeschooled. And I just finished seventh grade. I’m just taking this for… fun, I guess?”
She frowned at them. “You sound like my dad. Tests aren’t fun.”
Well, not really for fun,” Ash conceded. “Just to see how I do. My folks don’t think the Hawaiian school system is any good, but apparently this program is good enough that they want to see how I measure up.”
“Oh.” Tanya frowned. “What’s that like? Being homeschooled, I mean.”
“It’s fine, I guess,” Asher said. “My mom lets me handle most of my own work, so I can kind of do whatever I want if I get done fast enough.”
“That sounds cool… I don’t think my parents would let me do that. They’d probably just make me stay working until I finished the whole grade, then start on the next one.” Tanya wrinkled her nose. “They’re really old fashioned like that. Everything’s always about being the best, the hardest working. That’s why I’m here.”
Ash nodded. “My mom told me this program was designed by rocket scientists. They wouldn’t let me come here if it wasn’t the best.”
“Yeah, my parents told me that too. I hope it lives up to the hype.”
“Aren’t you counting your chickens before they hatch? You have to get in first.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Tanya didn’t look proud or anything, just resigned. “I’ll get in.”
Asher didn’t understand how she could know that for sure, but they weren’t going to argue with Potential New Friend. “I hope I get in too. My folks get to choose what I do, so all of my friends are from church, and I’m not sure—“ they cut themself off before they went too deep. You never knew who to trust. But Tanya looked intrigued.
“No, I get you. My parents control everything about my life they possibly can. I can’t imagine what it would be like if they controlled my entire social life, too. Are they like, hardcore Mormon or something? Why not send you to public school, or Iolani or something?”
“I dunno.” They did, but it was hard to explain to other people who didn’t know their parents. “They think they can do better than public school, and they can’t afford to send me somewhere private.”
“Seems to me more like they stay micromanaging you, yeah?”
Ash was about to respond when a resonant thump followed by a shriek of feedback emanated from the microphone on stage. The folding table lady had moved, and she was now holding an index card, which she glanced at before speaking. The cafeteria had filled up in the few minutes they’d been talking, which felt like no time at all.
“All right, everyone, thank you so much for your patience. My name is Yarissa Franklin, and I’ll be your test proctor today. As a member of the staff of Kailua Middle School, I’d like to extend our appreciation to all of you for being here today. Our Gifted and Talented pilot program is one of the best in the world, designed by professors from the University of Hawai’i at Hilo to ready our brightest young minds for their futures. If you’re here, we think you might be one of them. I’d like everyone to take a moment to silence their cell phones.” She waited a few seconds while a few kids pretended to fiddle with their phones. “Now, if you’ll look to your right, you’ll see a stack of exams. Please take one and a pencil if you didn’t bring one, and remember to sit at an empty table if one is available. If not, please sit across from the other test-taker so that you cannot see their exam. Once you’re finished, please give me your test at the table where you checked in. Does anyone have any questions? There will be no talking once the test starts.”