The Scholarship Girl

CHAPTER2

It was at that moment I noticed I wasn't alone.

I looked closer and saw a student who hadn't noticed me yet, pouring out his frustration over his inability to solve the equation. Curious, I started to watch what he was up to.

He scribbled a formula, hissed a curse word, and erased it so hard the board rattled. He tried again. Wrong.

"f*****g hell! I f*****g hate math! This is s**t! f**k it all and f**k y'all!" he kept yelling. He picked up his notebook and tore it to pieces.

He flung his iPad across the room, threw his school bag at the board where the equation was written, and continued cursing and yelling.

I couldn't help but smile sheepishly. I couldn't believe math was making someone this agitated.

With a roar of frustration, he threw the second marker. It bounced off the wall, and I caught it mid-air.

He didn't notice me until I walked in. The silence was heavy. I quietly walked to the board, my eyes glittering, the marker rotating between my fingers.

In three swift moves, I solved the equation that had been torturing my prince in distress.

I turned toward him, still smiling, and said, "It's just math. You don't have to be so worked up. It's easier to solve with the method I just showed you."

"Learn to mind your f*****g business. I didn't ask for a tutor." He shoved me and walked away.

I stood there in shock.

This baby monster boy who cannot solve a simple equation looked at me in disgust, picked up his broken iPad and school bag, and walked out.

Guess I was wrong after all. I really should mind my business, and my business right now is to find the principal's office.

With my enthusiasm dead, I turned around and left.

**********

“Come in.”

The voice was deep and thick, the kind that carried authority without trying. I hesitated for a few seconds before pushing the door open.

Of course it was the principal. The bold gold tag on the door had clearly read THE PRINCIPAL, so whoever was inside definitely wasn’t the school janitor.

Just like Joseph had said, finding the office from the math lab hadn’t been difficult. Still, my heart beat faster as I stepped inside.

I forced myself to let go of the lingering embarrassment and irritation from the math lab incident. Whatever that was, this was more important.

I straightened my shoulders, plastered a polite smile on my face, and walked in.

And then—I froze.

Luxury didn’t even begin to cover it.

The office looked less like a workplace and more like a luxury suite in a five-star hotel.

Everything about it screamed money, taste, and quiet power. The walls were painted in warm neutral tones that blended perfectly. Soft light bounced off them, making the room feel bigger than it already was.

A crystal chandelier hung directly above a large desk positioned neatly at the center of the room. It wasn’t flashy, but it sparkled just enough to remind you that this place was expensive. Beneath my feet was a thick carpet that felt soft and plush, the kind you’d expect to sink into.

To one side of the room were shelves—floor to ceiling—filled with books and files, all arranged so neatly it almost looked staged. Everything had its place.

My gaze drifted back to the desk at the center of the room. It was beautiful—polished wood, smooth edges. It looked delicate, almost fragile, yet strong enough to command the entire space.

What an irony.

A laptop sat neatly on one side, while the other side was stacked with books and files. There were many of them, yet the desk didn’t look cluttered. Somehow, everything looked organized.

Finally, my eyes lifted to the man seated behind the desk.

He was middle-aged, dressed sharply, seated comfortably on a chair that swayed slightly from side to side. A pen rested between his fingers as he watched me silently, his eyes assessing me in a way that made me feel like he could already read my entire life story.

“You done admiring my office, Ms. Brown?”

My face warmed instantly.

“I—I’m sorry, sir,” I said quickly, smiling sheepishly as I dropped my gaze to my toes.

He chuckled softly.

“Don’t be. My name is Principal Lim. And as you already know, I’m the principal of the school. Opposite my office is my assistant's. She will give you your iPad, textbooks, and other necessary materials. She’ll also issue you the school’s behavioral manual. Make sure you read it.”

His tone shifted slightly.

“As a scholarship student, you can’t afford to miss anything in that manual. It’s a guide to keeping you out of trouble—and keeping your sponsorship intact.”

My smile stiffened.

“I’ll need to have a brief meeting with both your parents on Wednesday. The school will reach out to them,” he continued smoothly.

The mention of the word ‘parent’ had my mood dampening, but he didn't seem to notice. If he did, he didn't mention it.

“A counselor will be assigned to you and the other scholarship student to monitor your academic and social performance.”

I blinked.

“Every assignment, class activity, project, test, mock, and exam will be monitored. Every weekend, you are expected to submit a summary of all assignments and projects for every course.”

My heart sank lower with every word.

“Tests and exams will be sent directly to the counselor by your subject teachers. You must participate in at least two extracurricular activities. And as for your social performance—everything you do within and outside the school will be monitored.”

I stiffened.

“What you post on social media. Where you go. Who you interact with. Inside and outside school grounds.”

This is insane.

“In summary,” he said calmly, “do not participate in anything that will dent your image. Because it dents the school’s image. And you know what that will cost you.”

He paused, watching me carefully.

“Now go on. My assistant will show you to your class. Assembly is in ten. Don't be late.” He dismissed me with a wave of his hands, but I just stood, taking it all in.

I could hear the wheels in my head whirling as I made sense of everything he just said.

Then he looked up and stared at me like he dared me to say what I had in mind.

I forced a smile, turned, and walked out. Then knocked on the opposite office.

I paid rapt attention to everything the principal had said and unfortunately, only one thing stood out.

Scholarship students were treated differently from other students.

Because why are there so many rules?

So many things we were expected to follow.

So many things we were warned not to do.

So much unnecessary invasion of privacy.

So now I have to think twice before liking a tweet or posting a selfie because I might “dent the image of the school”?

This is bullshit.