In my last life, when she found out I’d already been offered early admission to Harvard, she had her little clique torment me until I was half-dead, tore up my acceptance letter, and threatened me into silence.
I yanked my hand away and said mockingly,
“All that one-on-one tutoring and you barely scraped past the cutoff?”
“You really are slow.”
Olivia’s jaw clenched, her cheeks flushing red.
Richard hadn’t had much education and had made his fortune by marrying into Margaret’s family business.
He was often mocked for relying on his wife’s money, so he placed an obsessive emphasis on his children’s academic achievements.
I ignored them all and headed upstairs to sleep.
To care for Grandma during her surgery, I’d already requested a week off from school.
On the day of the SAT, Olivia “kindly” packed my admission ticket and test materials for me.
“Don’t be nervous. Even if you don’t get into college, Dad can always get you a job—maybe as a janitor.”
I ignored her, rolled over, and went right back to sleep.
When Richard Bennett found out I hadn’t taken the SAT, he blew up again.
In the end, he decided to hire a private tutor for one-on-one lessons so I could repeat the year.