L.I.A: Two worlds apart

3

CHAPTER 3

Dayo POV

Then he gestured toward the chair opposite him.

“Sit.”

I did.

The door closed softly behind me, and the room returned to its quiet order.

For a few seconds, nobody spoke.

The man across from me opened the file in front of him and flipped through a few pages while the others continued watching quietly.

It was strange.

I had never seen people make silence feel so official.

Eventually, he looked up.

“Dayo Adeyemi.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Age nineteen. International scholarship recipient.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“Your entrance examination scores were impressive.”

A few of the staff members exchanged glances.

I wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Thank you.”

He nodded once and closed the file.

“Before we begin, there are a few things you should understand about Lakeside International Academy.”

The way he said it made me sit a little straighter.

“This institution operates differently from most schools. Academic performance is important, but it is not the only factor we evaluate.”

I already had a feeling I knew where this was going.

“The ranking system?” I asked.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

“So you’ve seen it.”

It wasn’t really a question.

“Everyone was looking at it.”

“Most students do.”

He folded his hands on top of the desk.

“At L.I.A, rankings reflect a student’s overall standing within the academy. Academic performance, leadership, extracurricular participation, conduct, influence, and contribution to the school are all considered.”

That explained why there were so many students ranked.

It also explained why I was at the bottom.

I hadn’t done anything yet.

The man seemed to notice the direction of my thoughts.

“Your current ranking is temporary.”

That got my attention immediately.

“Temporary?”

“You are a new student. You have not participated in any academy activities, classes, or evaluations. As such, the system has placed you at the lowest position until sufficient data is collected.”

I tried not to look relieved.

“So I’m not actually the worst student in the school.”

“No. You’re simply unassessed.”

That sounded significantly better.

He reached into a folder and slid several documents toward me.

“Your class schedule.”

Another paper followed.

“Campus regulations.”

Then another.

“Dormitory assignment.”

I picked them up and glanced over the pages.

There was a lot.

Far more than I expected.

“Do all students go through this?”

“Yes.”

“Do all students start at the bottom?”

“No.”

I looked up.

“Most students enter with preliminary assessments from partner institutions,” she explained. “Scholarship students without an L.I.A feeder record are handled differently.”

I wasn’t sure whether that was good news or bad news.

Before I could ask, another staff member spoke.

“Your homeroom teacher is Ms. Choi.”

The name sounded familiar.

“She has already been informed of your arrival.”

The man across from me checked his watch.

“Classes begin shortly. You’ll head there after this meeting.”

I nodded.

The man across from me gathered the remaining documents into a neat stack before sliding them across the table.

“Keep these with you. You’ll need them.”

I took them and slipped them into my bag.

The meeting seemed to be over, but nobody moved immediately.

Instead, the staff exchanged a few looks that I couldn’t quite read.

Then the woman who had spoken earlier leaned back slightly in her chair.

“One more thing.”

“Students here pay attention to rankings.”

She continued.

“Don’t let it distract you.”

That sounded easier said than done.

The man at the head of the table stood, signaling the end of the meeting.

“Ms. Choi’s classroom is on the third floor of the East Wing.”

I stood as well.

“Thank you.”

He nodded once.

“Good luck, Mr. Adeyemi.”

The words followed me as I left the office.

Students passed occasionally, but not enough to fill the corridor with noise. Most of them were already heading toward their classrooms.

I checked the schedule in my hand.

Class 2-A.

East Wing.

Third Floor.

Simple enough.

At least that was what I thought until I reached the main staircase.

The building was much larger on the inside than it looked from outside.

Every corridor seemed to split into three more.

Signs pointed in different directions.

I checked the schedule again.

Then the map.

Then the schedule.

Somehow, I still wasn’t sure where I was going.

A group of students brushed past me without slowing down.

One of them glanced at the paper in my hand.

“Lost?” he asked.

There was no mockery in his voice.

Just curiosity.

“Maybe a little.”

He pointed down a nearby hallway.

“East Wing is that way.”

I followed his finger.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Then he was gone before I could say anything else.

I adjusted my bag and continued walking.

A few minutes later, I finally found it.

Class 2-A.

The room stood at the end of the corridor, its door already open.

Voices drifted out into the hallway.

Students were inside.

Class had not started yet.

I stopped outside for a second, staring at the sign beside the door.

This was it.

My first class at Lakeside International Academy.

Taking a slow breath, I stepped forward and crossed the doorway.

Students were scattered throughout the classroom, some talking in groups, others looking through notes or scrolling through their phones while they waited for class to begin.

The room itself was larger than any classroom I had studied in before. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one side of the wall, allowing sunlight to pour across polished desks arranged in neat rows.

A few students glanced at me before looking away.

I could practically see the question forming in their minds.

Who is that?

A girl near the window leaned toward her friend and whispered something.

Her friend’s eyes immediately found me.

Within seconds, it felt like half the room knew I wasn’t supposed to be familiar.

I resisted the urge to check whether there was something wrong with my uniform.

Instead, I walked further into the room.

A few empty seats remained near the back.

Most of the desks closer to the front were already occupied.

I headed toward one of the empty seats without thinking much about it.

Before I could sit down, a voice stopped me.

“That’s taken.”

I looked up.

A boy sitting nearby hadn’t even bothered lifting his eyes fully from his phone.

He pointed vaguely toward the desk.

“People sit there.”

I glanced at the empty chair.

Then at him.

“Okay.”

He seemed almost disappointed by how easily I accepted it.

I moved on.

Another seat near the middle looked empty.

Then someone placed a notebook on it before I could reach it.

Claimed.

I kept walking.

Eventually I found a desk near the back corner of the room.

Nobody objected. So I sat down.

The whispers started again almost immediately.

I pretended not to hear them.

That became harder when I caught my own name.

“The scholarship student?”

“I think that’s him.”

“Rank two hundred thousand?”

“No way.”

“That’s what the board said.”

I stared straight ahead.

This is going to be a long day.