Chapter 4
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The pace here was relentless compared to my old school. Plus, my two-year gap had left me hopelessly behind.
The worst was Advanced Information Technology. I'd never even touched this stuff before. In Professor Williams' class, the Alpha students effortlessly grasped complex concepts while I was still fumbling with basic formulas.
When midterm results came back, I was gutted. I'd never seen grades this bad with my name on them.
Professor Williams blazed through the exam review in class. By the time I'd finished reading a question, he'd already explained the entire solution in a few brisk sentences.
"Everyone understands how to solve this, correct? I don't need to belabor the point?" Professor Williams scanned the room from his podium.
I hesitated, then raised my hand: "Professor, I'm not quite following the approach here. Could you walk through it more slowly?"
Professor Williams' face darkened: "You don't understand?"
He strode to my desk, glanced at my abysmal score, and shook his head with undisguised contempt: "Miss Thompson, this is a college preparatory course, not remedial education. Your... cognitive capacity clearly isn't suited for our academic standards."
Madison snickered from across the room: "Professor, some people just have limited brainpower. Beta neural structures simply can't handle complex logical operations."
Blood rushed to my face: "Professor, I just need a more thorough explanation. What does this have to do with my biology?"
Professor Williams dismissed me with an impatient wave: "Miss Thompson, address your deficiencies on your own time. Don't hold back the rest of the class."
After class, as I was stuffing books into my bag, Victoria tapped my shoulder.
She handed me a paper with detailed solution steps written in elegant handwriting.
"Take this to the professor," she whispered. "He's more receptive to students who show initiative, even Betas."
I remembered what I'd overheard, but still clung to a sliver of hope. Surely she wouldn't set me up so blatantly.
I approached his office and asked him to explain the solution I was holding.
Professor Williams exploded after one glance: "You claim this is your own work? It's identical to the answer key, you stupid, lying Beta!"
"Professor," I stammered, "Victoria gave this to me." Before he could respond, Victoria "happened" to walk by the open door. Hearing my words, she looked wounded. "Professor, I never gave her anything. I would never cheat."
Professor Williams looked ready to tear me apart. Unable to defend myself, I fled his office in panic.
The next day, even students who normally ignored me completely now looked at me with open disgust. Their whispers followed me through the hallways.
"That's the Beta who tried to pass off stolen answers as her own. What a disgrace."
"It's revolting. I can barely stand breathing the same air as someone like that."
I couldn't take it anymore and called Mom. Though I tried to sound normal, she immediately knew something was wrong.
"Lily, honey, have you been crying? Is someone giving you trouble at school?" she asked, concern filling her voice.
I couldn't bring myself to tell her how my classmates and professors really treated me. "Mom, the pace here is just too fast. I can't keep up."
Mom's face fell. All these years of struggle, all that sacrifice just to give me the best education possible, hoping I could build a better future than she had. Hearing I couldn't hack it clearly devastated her—I could see her blaming herself.
That night, Mom posted something on social media.
It was a photo of me studying under a desk lamp, with the caption: "My daughter is working so hard, but she's still struggling to keep up. What should we do?"
Five minutes later, Mom texted me: "Lily! There's hope for your studies!"
