Life choice

The new "Paired Admissions" policy had the whole country buzzing. Basically, if you scored above a certain threshold on the college entrance exam (the gaokao), you could choose a loved one or romantic partner to get into college with you. Our school administrators scrambled to explain the details, eventually handing out forms for us to fill out.

My classmate, Sarah Miller, was puzzled. "Ashley," she said, "what do you think the catch is?"

"No catch," I replied flatly. "If you hit the target score, you can pick a family member or significant other to get in with you."

Sarah looked at me, surprised. I knew because I’d lived through this before. In my past life, this policy had launched a thousand high school romances overnight. Rich kids who’d never cracked a book suddenly needed girlfriends who could ace the gaokao. They were celebrating now, but they'd be crying later. Paired Admissions wasn't as simple as it seemed.

“Wait,” Sarah interrupted my thoughts, "Is that Brittany Davis getting a form? She doesn't have a boyfriend."

Brittany Davis, the school's queen bee, was gliding toward the front of the room. A collective groan rippled through the boys in our class. Brittany was an only child; if she was grabbing a form, it meant she had a boyfriend. And Brittany was everyone’s dream girl.

I smirked. She didn't have a boyfriend. She was about to steal one. Mine.

Brittany and I had once been close, until I discovered she was my dad's secret daughter. She played the fragile, wounded dancer at school, all wide-eyed innocence. I fell for it, at first. In reality, she was selfish and manipulative. After my dad brought her home, she tried to undermine me at every turn. When I finally fought back, she'd retreat into a performance of wounded vulnerability.

Now, she was about to pull her biggest stunt yet. Knowing that my boyfriend, Jason Reed, was expected to be the top scorer in the city, she set her sights on him. Last time, she almost succeeded.

“Well, well,” I said loud enough for Brittany to hear, “Someone’s landed a lucky guy. Wonder who snagged our Brittany?”

Brittany froze. How could I know? The class president, who had a long-standing feud with Brittany, seized the opportunity. When Brittany turned in her form, he announced the name written on it: “Jason Reed?!”

The room erupted. Everyone knew Jason and I were the school's power couple – me at the top of the humanities track, him in the sciences. Even the teachers treated us like a done deal. Now, Brittany was facing down a classroom of disgusted stares. Even the guys who usually worshipped her looked repulsed.

Brittany shot me a venomous look. Of course, it was my fault she was being judged. If I wasn’t in the picture, she’d be the rightful girlfriend, basking in everyone’s admiration. She always had a way of twisting things. Like when she blamed my mom for "stealing" her mom's place, as if my mom was responsible for my dad’s affair. After my mom died, Brittany even had the nerve to tau...