Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

The next morning, I get ready for school with renewed purpose. The purpose being: Well, if Sourdawg is my schoolmate, I really need to not be such an outcast. Bad enough if he ever found out I’m Dudebro10; I can’t have him thinking I’m a total loser in real life too.

I take extra time to blow-dry my hair until it’s so shiny that when I put a comb in it, it just slides through the silky strands of hair on its own. Then I swipe on a light coating of mascara and tinted lip balm and smile at my reflection. I look so cute. “Me? Pretty?” I say to my reflection. “Oh, I just woke up like this.”

Then it’s down to the breakfast of champions: cereal that’s basically made out of cardboard and sugar but pretends to be healthy, and a cup of coffee so strong that my right eyelid starts twitching about halfway through. I swear, Indonesian coffee is so potent it might as well be crack cocaine. And now I’m ready to go and slay. Even Pak Run tells me I look particularly “neat” this morning, which is a serious compliment coming from him.

My renewed confidence lasts only until we drive through the towering Xingfa gates, then it fizzles away with a sad squelch. But I glare up at the building and silently remind myself that I’ve got this. I’ve handled far worse. I may not be able to think of what situations I have handled before that were far worse than being bullied at my new school, but I’m sure I’ve been in worse situations.

As I trudge up the stone steps, I spot two familiar figures in the distance: Eleanor Roosevelt and Sarah Jessica. A smile takes over my face. It’s impossible to not be in a good mood when I see Eleanor Roosevelt. “Hey, guys,” I call out. They spot me and start coming toward me, grinning. As they come closer, it hits me that their matchmaking service might just be the answer I need. As soon as the idea appears, it sinks its little claws inside me and refuses to let go. Why not? It’s a brilliant idea. With the help of Lil’ Aunties Know Best, I’ll be able to take my time figuring out who Sourdawg is without attracting too much attention.

“Hey, Ci Kiki!” Eleanor Roosevelt gives me a hug, and my desiccated husk of a heart melts a little. For the millionth time, I wonder what amazing karma George Clooney must have to have a little sister like Eleanor Roosevelt.

“Hey, kid. Hey, Sarah Jessica.”

Sarah Jessica raises her chin and says, “ ’Sup.”

I’m a little bit disarmed by a bespectacled thirteen-year-old in a school uniform that goes below her knees saying “ ’Sup,” and it takes me a moment to gather my thoughts. “Hey, so I was thinking…you know, about Lil’ Aunties.”

Eleanor Roosevelt’s eyebrows knit together in clear disappointment. “Oh. You don’t wanna do it after all?”

“No, actually,” I say quickly, “I would love to be a part of the whole thing. Including the matchmaking.”

It’s as though the sun has just come out from behind the clouds. Eleanor Roosevelt’s whole face lights up, and she turns to Sarah Jessica, who’s already grinning, and the two of them grasp each other’s hands and squeal. The sight of it twists my heart; I miss Cassie and Shar so, so much.

“Really?” Sarah Jessica says.

“Yeah. I mean, I think we need to go over some ground rules, but sure, I think it’d be fun.”

“Ah!” Eleanor Roosevelt shouts, wrapping her arms around me. “It’s going to be amazing!”

Sarah Jessica pushes her glasses up her nose and clears her throat. “Let’s be more discreet about this, please, since dating is not technically allowed at Xingfa.” She looks so serious and matronly that I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling. God, was I ever this confident when I was their age? “Don’t worry, we’ll send you our guidebook before you go on a date.”

“You have a guidebook?”

They both roll their eyes at me. “Duh,” Eleanor Roosevelt says, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ears. She’s wearing her hair in a braided headband and looks so adorable. The fashion industry needs this kid. “It has everything: a code of conduct, rules of engagement, an NDA—”

“An NDA?”

“That stands for nondisclosure agreement,” Sarah Jessica says with all the earnestness in the world.

“I know what an NDA is, I just—why do we have to sign one?”

“Because like Sarah Jessica said, we’re not technically allowed to date at Xingfa, and Sarah Jessica and I need to protect ourselves.”

I nod slowly. “You know, when George told me to keep an eye out for you, I think he got it wrong.”

Eleanor Roosevelt grins. “Oh, he one hundred percent meant keep an eye out ON me, not for me. See you, Ci Kiki! And welcome to Lil’ Aunties!” And with that, Eleanor Roosevelt and Sarah Jessica leave, chattering excitedly.

---

My second day at Xingfa isn’t as bad my first; in fact, it’s worse. I arrive at my classroom with renewed resolve to be my awesome self and make new friends, but as soon as I step inside the room, Jonas calls out, “Hey, Gigi, c’mere. I need to talk to you.”

Gigi? Fuck this guy. Then I recall that—oh god—there is an actual real possibility that Jonas might be Sourdawg, and my insides twist so tightly I almost hurl.

“No thanks,” I say, ducking my head, refusing to even meet his eye. I head straight to my table, keeping my head down. I don’t even bother saying hi to Liam.

“Hey, seriously, I’m not joking around,” Jonas says, louder this time. “This is me talking to you as your class prefect.”

The easygoing noise in the classroom suddenly subsides. Everyone is watching us. Liam straightens in his chair, and I get the feeling that he’s trying to catch my eye, but I’m too busy glaring at Jonas. I grip my shoulder strap tightly and take a breath before saying, “Yeah? What can I help you with, Jonas?”

“Here at Xingfa, we take our school’s reputation very seriously.”

What is this guy doing, giving a speech? “Okay,” I mumble.

“Have you read your student handbook?”

“Jonas, take it easy,” Liam says.

I glance at Liam, then back at Jonas, who’s apparently still waiting for an answer. “Yeah.” Well, I’ve definitely read the cover anyway.

Jonas says the most theatrical “Huh” in the history of huhs, like HUH, REEEALLY? “That’s funny, because on page thirty-seven, section fifty-one A, it clearly states that you are not allowed to wear your school uniform out in public.”

“What?” My gaze snaps up to his face, and I immediately regret it, because there it is again, that ever-present smirk that makes the back of my neck prickle with the need to punch him in the face. I shake my head. “That doesn’t make sense. Are we supposed to change out of our uniform before leaving the school?”

Jonas rolls his eyes. “No, when you’re in transit—that is, traveling between your house and the school, that’s fine. But you’re not allowed to make stops at the mall, or the supermarket, or a café, while you’re wearing the Xingfa uniform.”

“What?” I spit out. My head spins with how ridiculous this rule is. Back at Mingyang, the girls and I were always going straight to the mall after school. Jonas must be making this up.

“Hey, I don’t make the rules,” he says, as though reading my mind. “I’m just saying, it’s embarrassing that you got caught breaking the rule your first day of school.”

“What?” I say again. I seem to have run out of other words to say. Around me, my classmates are still staring.

“Jonas—” Liam says with a sigh. “Come on, man.”

“Stay out of it, okay?” Jonas says. “I’m trying to make sure the new girl knows the school rules. What if a teacher had seen her out in public in her school uniform? Do you want her to get suspended?”

Next to Jonas, Peishan is shaking her head at me, like, Girl, you should’ve known better.

With a long-suffering sigh, Jonas takes out his phone and opens up TikTok. He taps a couple of times before brandishing the phone at me. Music blares from it.

My mouth drops open. It’s a TikTok of me and Cassie at Cake Ho, laughing over cake. The caption reads: “Anak jaman skrg, pulang sekolah langsung ngopi ngabisin uang. #Xingfa.” Kids nowadays, as soon as they get out of school, they go straight to a café to waste their money.

“Wha—” It feels like my mind has imploded. There’s so much to unpack here. “We were at a café having cake. It’s not like we went to a karaoke lounge and started flinging cash at everyone. And who the hell took that video? That’s so creepy.”

“You were at a café called Cake Ho,” Jonas says, emphasizing the “Ho” with obvious relish. “And the rules are clear: you can’t wear your uniform outside the premises, aside from when you’re traveling to and from your home.”

“I think she got it,” Liam growls, but Jonas isn’t done with his speech.

“When you wear the Xingfa uniform, you represent our school. You have to wear it with pride, not besmirch our hard-earned reputation.”

“How the hell did I besmirch your stupid reputation by having fucking cake, you obnoxious twat?”

There’s a collective gasp, and too late, I realize I haven’t just overstepped my own personal rule of not letting Jonas get under my skin; I’ve smashed right through it. And just then, things go from bad to catastrophic, because someone at the door clears his throat, and we all turn to see Mr. Tan, glowering at me.

“Did you just call a fellow student a ‘twat’?” he says in a tone of voice full of poison.

I know I should be groveling, I know what the culture demands, but my insides are boiling: someone took a video of me, for god’s sake, and posted it on TikTok. Surely that’s the most messed-up thing here? “Yes,” I say, raising my chin and meeting Mr. Tan’s eyes.

“Kiki,” Liam mutters, “don’t—”

“But don’t worry,” I continue, “it’s only because he fully deserved it.”

Mr. Tan’s mouth drops open. A couple of students gasp. The tension in the room solidifies. Then Mr. Tan says, “Come here.”

Dread coils up my leg muscles, and I swear I practically forget how to walk, but somehow, I manage to make my way to the front of the classroom. Whatever, I tell myself, so he’ll give me detention. Big deal.

But when I get to the front, Mr. Tan says, “If you like being the center of attention so much, you can stand here for the rest of the period.”

A few of my classmates groan. “Mr. Tan,” Jonas says, “she’s kind of blocking the board.”

“Well, you have Miss Siregar to thank for that.”

My cheeks are burning so hotly it’s a wonder my entire head hasn’t exploded into flames. Of course they wouldn’t just give me detention at Xingfa, oh no, they believe in public humiliation here. I look down at my shoes, my toes curling with shame, and Mr. Tan says, “No, you can look straight ahead at your classmates so you know exactly how disruptive your behavior was.”

Tears prickle my eyes, and I focus on sipping air in through my mouth to keep from crying as I raise my head and stare straight ahead. Just focus on the back of the classroom, I tell myself. Ignore everyone else. But I can’t pretend not to see their judgmental faces as Mr. Tan begins the lesson. Thankfully, after about ten minutes of lecture, Mr. Tan tells us to break into our groups to continue discussing our group projects. I take a relieved step to join my group, but Mr. Tan tells me I have to remain standing where I am.

“But my group—”

“—will just have to survive without you for this period.” Mr. Tan narrows his eyes at me. “You have to understand, here at Xingfa, we take students’ conduct very seriously. ‘Purity in character, diligence in practice’—that’s our school’s motto. You can spend the rest of the hour thinking about what that means and how your actions have affected your group.”

I glance at my group, the only one with three students instead of four, and my stomach lurches. Because it hits me then that maybe they’re actually glad to not have me in there fighting with Jonas about our game. Maybe without me there, they can get on with it and go along with Jonas’s awful game idea. And maybe that’s for the best. “Purity in character, diligence in practice.” Ugh, what the hell kind of motto is that? Mingyang’s motto is “Service and Truth,” which is kind of meh, but also, no one ever quoted it. I doubt that half the school even knows what the motto is.

When the bell finally rings, I hurry to my seat, keeping my eyes down as I pass by the rows of students. Some of them whisper as I walk by, and I mentally go lalala so I don’t have to hear whatever mean thing they’re no doubt saying about me. I refuse to meet Liam’s eye as I slide into my seat. For the duration of the next class, I keep my eyes firmly on my desk.

But somehow, despite the no-phones-in-class rule, someone has managed to record me shouting “You obnoxious twat!” at Jonas.

By recess, it’s all over TikTok. A looped clip of me shouting “Obnoxious twat! Twat! Twat!” over and over, with Gwen Stefani singing in the background “This shit is BANANAS! B-A-N-A-N-A-S!” tagged with #CrazyKiki. I can hear it as I walk through the hallway. I’d been planning to go to the canteen for recess, but after the fourth time I hear “B-A-N-A-N-A-S!” I’m so overwhelmed that I duck into the nearest bathroom instead. Of course, because it’s break time, the bathroom is filled with girls fixing their hair and chatting, and they all have their phones out, so even in here, I can’t escape Gwen Stefani’s voice. They all look at me. Someone giggles, and I rush out of the bathroom and hurry down the hallway, barely aware of where I’m going. I turn one corner, then another, until I find myself in a quiet part of the school.

I look around me. My breath is still coming in and out in rapid spurts. There are no classrooms in this part of the building. I vaguely remember that Xingfa had a new extension built a handful of years ago, and that’s where their library and science labs are located. I guess this is where I’ll have my physics and biology classes tomorrow. I wander down the deserted corridor until I find the entrance to the library, then I walk inside, reveling in the air-conditioned silence. A librarian looks up and gives me a quick, polite smile before turning her attention back to her computer screen.

Xingfa’s library is impressive: modern and bright, with high ceilings and shelf after shelf of books. The entire space somehow smells both clean and yet heavy with book scents, and I immediately love it. I guess I’m now someone who spends her recess time in the library. I release a shuddery breath and wander down a narrow space between bookshelves, trying to shake off the memory of everyone laughing at me. To my horror, now that I’m in a space that finally feels safe, I feel my nose tingling and my eyes filling with tears once more. Stop it, I scold myself, but one tear rolls down my cheek, then another and another, and I can’t believe I’m crying in the library on the second day of school.

Someone taps me gently on the shoulder, and when I turn around, I’m met with a piece of baby wipe. A baby wipe that’s being held by Liam. Oh god, whyyy?

He looks just as mortified as I feel as we stand there, staring at each other, my face streaming with tears and snot. Then he clears his throat and says, “This has cucumber extract on it.”

Okay, so of all the things I thought he might say, this might possibly have been the last.

“The wipe, I mean,” Liam says. “Um. So. Yeah.”

I take it from him and wipe my face with it. “I can’t smell the cucumber extract.” I have no idea why I just said that, other than that my brain is probably misfiring neurons all over the place.

“Well, I doubt they put actual cucumber extract on it. But the package comes with a very refreshing image of cucumber slices.”

“Ah, that’s all that matters.” Despite myself, the corners of my mouth turn up in a small smile. “Thanks.” I look down at the wad of damp baby wipe. “Didn’t expect anyone to walk around with a packet of baby wipes on them.”

Liam shrugs. “It became a habit during the pandemic.”

I nod. Our eyes meet, and we immediately look down again.

“About Jonas—”

“It’s fine,” I say quickly. I’m still smarting over everything that’s happened today, and I still remember how Liam shook his head at me yesterday. I don’t think I would be able to stomach another lecture about how I should respect my classmates.

“Xingfa’s kind of an adjustment, huh?” Liam says.

My breath releases in a shaky laugh. “Yeah.” I scramble for a subject change. “How did the group discussion go?”

Liam wrinkles his nose, and I have to tear my eyes away from how adorable he looks when he does that. “It went fine. I think Peishan and I don’t much care as long as we get good grades.” He winces apologetically. “Sorry, I know you really didn’t like the design that Jonas came up with, but…”

My face heats up again. The unspoken part is obvious. “But you guys just want to get it done and over with. I get it.” And I’m only now realizing that maybe this is what I have to do too, in order to survive Xingfa.

Liam grimaces. “I hate how that sounds. But yeah, I guess. And since Jonas is a gamer and all…”

Oh god. Don’t remind me. The possibility that Jonas is Sourdawg punches me in the stomach like a sledgehammer once again. Argh. “You know, I game too,” I mutter.

“Really? That’s so cool. What do you play?”

“Mostly FPS.” I don’t want to tell him that I play WH too, just in case it somehow gets round to Jonas, so I rattle off other FPS games I’ve played. “Borderlands, Gears of War…”

“I love those!” Liam’s eyes light up, and his mouth curls into a soft smile that makes my stomach turn. In a good way, I mean. “You know what I love about Gears? Its amazingly clichéd lines.”

“ ‘Get ready for the pain train!’ ” I growl, and Liam guffaws.

Someone shushes us, and we both clap our hands over our mouths, trying to stifle our laughter. The bell rings then.

“Come on, five minutes before the next class starts,” Liam says, and leads the way out of the library. We walk out in amicable silence, but as we near our classroom, my good mood dissipates and is quickly overwhelmed by a rush of anxiety. The anxiety gives way to anger, because why am I letting anyone make me feel like this?

By the time we go inside the classroom, I’m ready to face anything. When I spot Jonas, laughing with his friends in that obnoxious way he has, something inside me boils over and I march straight up to him. When they spot me, he and his friends fall silent.

“Kiki, what are you doing?” Liam whispers, but I ignore him. At this moment, all I care about is making sure that my online best friend isn’t a douche in real life.

“Jonas,” I say.

“Yeah?” Jonas is still smirking. Everyone else is so silent that I can hear the inward rush of my own breathing. They’re all staring at me, bug-eyed, and I know this isn’t helping my case, I know it’s only going to make #CrazyKiki even more on-brand, but I can’t help myself.

Are you Sourdawg?Just say it, damn it. But what if he is? What if he says, Yes, I am, why? Then I would lose Sourdawg. I would lose my online refuge. I could never play Warfront Heroes without being reminded of him. “Are you—” Just. Say. It! My eyes rove around wildly, seeing everyone’s expectant faces, and that’s when I see it.

Jonas’s notebook. How did I miss it before? He’s stuck a massive sticker on its cover—one of Titanimus, a character from Warfront Heroes, presumably his main. And across Titanimus’s chest, he’s written “@GoldenDragonLord.” That’s it. That must be his handle.

Relief surges through my entire being. I almost collapse in a puddle.

“I’m waiting for that apology,” Jonas says.

I blink. “Huh?”

“I assume that’s why you’re talking to me?”

“Oh. Right. Uh…” Everyone is still staring. I should just apologize to him and get it done and over with. But my head’s such a mess. I’m still angry at everything, and yet also rejoicing at the fact that Jonas is not Sourdawg, and I just—I can’t do it. Nope. I give Jonas the sweetest smile I can muster up. Then I say, “I will as soon as you stop being such a twat.”

The collective gasp is drowned out by an angry shout from the door. “Kristabella Siregar!”

Great. Of course the next period’s teacher has chosen to walk in right this very moment. I guess I’ll be spending this period standing at the front of the classroom again.

But unlike Mr. Tan, Miss Rumanou points to the door and says, “Go to the principal’s office. Now.”

---

I’ve never been sent to the principal’s office before. Back at Mingyang, I was considered an asset to the school—outgoing, inclusive, liked by both students and teachers. Mingyang was a pretty small school, so our principal actually knew most of us by name. Whenever she saw me at school, she’d smile and say something like “Hey, Kiki, ooh, your eyebrow game is on-point!” At that time, I found it cringey, the way Principal Ramani was always trying to act chummy with us kids. Now look who’s feeling stupid and hoping against hope that Xingfa’s principal will be as chill as Principal Ramani?

Well, the principal here could be really cool, for all I know. Anything’s possible, right? And maybe he might even side with me, especially after I use this chance to expose all the bullying that Jonas has been doing. I know it makes me sound supremely uncool, but it’s time I tell one of the school officials what’s been going on here. I’ve never been a narc before—I’ve never had cause to be—but enough is enough.

The admin lady glances up from her e-reader when I walk in, and her eyes widen slightly, like she’s not used to students coming in here. She recovers quickly, though, putting down the e-reader and giving me a kind smile. “Hi. What can I do for you?”

“Uh…” Now that I’m actually here, I realize that I don’t really know what to say in such a situation. “I was asked by my teacher to speak with Principal…uh…” Gah, of course I’ve completely forgotten the principal’s name.

“Principal Lin?” She winces. “Okay. Wait here. I’ll let him know.”

Geez, she didn’t need to wince like that. What did that wince mean? Oh god, she must feel bad for me, because she knows I’m in for a terrible punishment. What if I get suspended? What if I get expelled? Would that go on my permanent record? My rib cage constricts as the admin lady gets up and knocks on the principal’s door. She pops her head in, says something, and a moment later, she turns back to me.

“Principal Lin will see you now.”

I try to decipher the expression on her face, but I can’t tell if that’s a sympathetic smile she’s wearing or a “sucks to be you” sort of smile. My knees wobble as I walk toward the office, and I grip the doorknob to steady myself.

I’ve seen Principal Lin’s picture in the main hall of the school. In the picture, he’s smiling with confidence, both his hairline and jawline strong. In person, he seems somehow rather diminished, a little bit more crumpled, and both his hairline and jawline are softer. He glances up at me from behind his desk.

“Come, sit.” He gestures at the chair opposite his desk, and oh god I wish to all the atoms in the universe that I hadn’t been sent here. He must have seen the apprehension on my face, because he gives a close-lipped smile and says, “Don’t worry, sit. We’ll just have a chat.”

Right. It’ll be okay. Yeah. Mami mentioned to me in passing that Mr. Lin has been the principal here for almost thirty years, so he knows his shit. He’ll see that I had a good reason for calling Jonas a twat.

Never mind my stomach—my entire body clenches as I walk into his office and sit down opposite him.

Principal Lin leans back in his seat, crossing his hands over his belly. Behind his glasses, his eyes are shrewd, and he speaks in a clipped, rapid way, like every word is something he needs to waste as little time as possible pronouncing. “So. You’re new here, yes? Your name is…Siregar?”

I nod. My mouth is too dry to speak.

“And your teacher sent you here. Who’s your teacher?”

“Uh.” It takes a second to recall her name. “Miss Rumanou.”

“Ah, yes.” Principal Lin frowns. “Miss Rumanou is quite lenient. You must have done something really bad to be sent here. What did you do?”

Bile burns its way halfway up my esophagus, and I have to take a deep breath before I’m able to answer. “Uh, I…sort of called one of my classmates a rude name.”

The frown deepens. His eyebrows are practically touching each other. He places his hands—his fingers are very elegant, like a pianist’s, I notice, and then immediately after noticing that, I’m like, Why am I noticing his hands? That is so weird—on the table and leans forward. “Okay, I understand that you’re new, but here at Xingfa, you need to address your elders by using Sir or Madam or Teacher, do you hear me?”

“Oh! Right. Okay.”

“Okay what?” Principal Lin says, enunciating the “what” so it comes out pointed and threatening.

Crap. “Okay, sir.” My voice comes out in a mumble. I have never wished for anything more than an excuse to get out of here.

“Good.” He leans back again, looking satisfied. I hate him already. “So why did you call your classmate a rude word? What was the word?”

“Uh. ‘Twat.’ Sir,” I add at the last minute.

Principal Lin’s upper lip curls in open disgust. “Maybe in your old school that kind of language is acceptable, but here at Xingfa, respect is everything. Purity of character and discipline, that’s what we’re known for. We cannot abide foul language, do you hear me?”

He says this with so much venom that one might think I’d kicked a puppy instead of calling someone a twat, and something inside me ignites. It’s not right that I’m being punished for this while Jonas gets away with bullying me. “Yes, I hear you. Sir. But, um, in my defense, I was sort of being bullied? And I know that Xingfa takes bullying seriously too. Uh, sir.”

Principal Lin narrows his eyes at me. “All right, tell me about this bullying incident.” His tone is skeptical.

“Um…” Where do I start? This whole situation is so not what I expected, and it feels so bizarre to be telling this man about Jonas. Still, I’m here now, and the only way to go is forward, so I will myself to form the words somehow. “So this is only my second day here, and—”

“Where did you transfer in from?” he interrupts.

“Oh, uh, Mingyang.”

The corners of his mouth go down, and he grunts. “Mm.”

Okaaay, make it obvious that you disapprove of my old school, why don’t you? Still, I soldier on, because my last school shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t even be part of this discussion. “Anyway, as I was saying, this is only my second day here, but the other students have been picking on me. Calling me names, like ‘Crazy Kiki.’ And there’s this video of me going around, and someone even uploaded it onto TikTok and it’s gone a bit viral—”

“TikTok,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You kids and your social media.”

“Um.” I’m not sure what to say to that. Am I supposed to apologize for the existence of social media?

“What’s this video of you about?” He looks more irritated than concerned.

The thought of the video, with me on a never-ending loop, makes my insides coil. “It’s kind of hard to explain…,” I mumble. Now I really regret having brought up the video at all.

“Show me, then.”

For the first time, I’m glad that my phone is in the basket outside my classroom. “I don’t have my phone.”

“That’s fine, I’ll use mine.” He takes out his phone, taps on the screen, and opens TikTok. Interesting that he claimed to hate social media but has the TikTok app. “What do I search for?”

The words fight me the whole way out. “#Xingfa #CrazyKiki.” I keep my eyes on my hands, which are grasped above my lap, as he finds the video and plays it. My voice streams out.

“You obnoxious twat! You obnoxious twat!” And in the background, “B-A-N-A-N-A-S!”

The line between Mr. Lin’s eyebrows deepens, and he pauses the video. “I don’t understand. This is actually evidence of you being the aggressor. Are you reporting yourself for bullying?”

“What?”I stand up. Holy shit. I totally did not see that coming. “No, wait—”

“You really need to work on your manners when addressing your elders,” he barks, and he’s gone from looking irritated to looking incandescent with anger. “Look at yourself, your behavior—it’s atrocious. And your skirt! Did you shorten it? It’s supposed to be four fingers’ width under your knee, not over it. You need to order a new size, you hear me? One that doesn’t make you look so indecent.”

My insides shrivel up, my neck and face burning with shame. I feel so humiliated I almost burst into tears then and there. God, why did I shorten my school uniform? Why?? “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to—I just—no, I’m not reporting myself for bullying. Sir.”

He grunts, leaning back slightly. “Well, all I see is you violating school rules—calling someone names. Shouting. It’s all very disturbing.”

“I—yes, but now they’re all calling me crazy, and I don’t think that’s appropriate either, and it’s all because of Jonas Arifin. He’s the one who—”

“Ah, Jonas Arifin.” The frown lines melt away from his forehead, and his eyes actually twinkle with affection. “I’ve known that boy since he was in K1.”

“Uh…” Now that I know he’s Jonas’s number one fan, I have no idea how to proceed.

“So he’s the one who started calling you crazy?”

I nod hesitantly.

Mr. Lin snorts. “Ah, that Jonas. He is a character, isn’t he? Look, that’s his way of showing you that he likes you.”

“I don’t think—”

“Trust me. I’ve been the principal here for thirty-two years. Thirty-two! That’s almost twice as long as you’ve been alive, ya? And under my guidance, Xingfa has become the nation’s top-tier school. Our reputation is known throughout the whole of Southeast Asia. We even rival Singapore’s top schools.”

I wish I could tell him that he sounds like a cheesy marketing brochure.

“Look, I know what I’m talking about, okay? Don’t be so sensitive. Jonas is a very popular boy, and for him to be so attentive to you is a compliment. You kids nowadays are so sensitive, to the point that you can’t even tell what’s a joke and what’s serious. Don’t take it so seriously, ya?”

“But everyone is—”

He waves at me with a tch sound. “Don’t worry about what everyone says. You need to have self-confidence. We are raising confident leaders of the future here, not weak-willed little snowflakes who melt at the slightest criticism. And ‘crazy’? That’s not even a criticism. To be honest, in your video, you do seem a bit—” He snorts and makes a seesaw motion with his hand. “You know?”

Did he just call me a bit crazy? I stare at him, open-mouthed.

“Now, what is serious is you using foul language. That’s unacceptable. I’m going to let it go this one time, because you’re new and your old school might be more lenient….” His voice trails off, and I realize he’s waiting for me to grovel and thank him for his leniency.

“Thank you, sir,” I manage to bite out.

Principal Lin nods. “If this happens again, I won’t be so lenient.” He doesn’t wait for me to reply before standing up. I guess our meeting is over.

I can’t look him in the eye as I stand and head for the door.

The receptionist looks up from her e-reader and smiles at me, but I don’t even have the energy to muster up a smile for her as I slump out.