Chapter 4When a Mother Loves Her Reputation More

I floated high above the track, watching as Mom walked briskly, her figure soon disappearing into the classroom building. As the door swung shut behind her, I caught her lifting a hand to hurriedly wipe at her eyes.

Alas, she had no idea that I would never get to eat the ice cream she said she'd prepared for me.

Mr. Hodge was the only one left on the track.

He crouched beside me, hesitating for a long time. After glancing toward the students watching from the third floor, he finally dragged my body over to the base of the flagpole, where there was a small patch of shade.

"Just hang in there a little longer," he said to me.

After taking off his cap to cover my face, he got up and walked away with the bin of basketballs.

Still, the patch of shade was far too small. As the sun started to move westward, the flagpole's shadow shrank inch by inch. Ten minutes later, it was completely gone, and I was exposed to the blazing sun once again.

My body was still twitching a little, the movement barely visible. My sweat stopped coming ages ago, and my skin, once flushed from the heat, had turned into a sickly, pallid gray.

But my fingers were still curled around the vocabulary list, refusing to let go of the paper that was wrinkled from my earlier sweat and now covered in dirt as well.

Hovering in the air, I looked down at the piece of paper. The words were beyond recognition. I didn't know how much time had passed before my body stopped moving completely.

At that very moment, it felt as if my soul had been set free. I no longer had that hazy feeling, as if I were hovering on the brink of life and death. My soul had truly detached itself from my body.

Back in the classroom, the bell rang. Mom stood in front of the class and opened the textbook.

"Turn to page 137. Today, we'll cover the final chapter." Her voice was louder than usual. She spoke faster than usual.

When she reached an important point, she turned around and began writing on the blackboard. The chalk she used snapped three times. As she bent down to pick up the broken chalk, her eyes drifted absentmindedly toward the field outside.

But it was too far for her to get a clear view of anyone out there.

Chelsea suddenly piped up, "Ms. Campbell, Julia has already been standing outside for two hours. Should I go out there and tell her to come back inside?"

The classroom fell silent. Everyone looked at Mom.

She drummed her fingers against the desk twice before saying, "That won't be necessary. She'll come back inside once she finally sees sense. I'm not going to waste my time enabling her behavior."

Chelsea nodded obediently before turning toward the window. For a brief moment, her lips curled into a smirk.

Soon, the fifth period was over. Mom closed her lesson plan and exhaled slowly. She went back to the faculty office and opened the fridge, pulling out the strawberry ice cream cup. A layer of condensation beaded across the packaging.

She wrapped the bottom with some tissue before heading downstairs, having already mentally rehearsed what she was going to say.

"This will do, Julia. Your attitude today has been acceptable enough. You can come back inside now."

Just like that, she would gloss over everything with an offhanded statement that still conveyed her authority clearly. She would then stuff the ice cream into my hand without saying anything else.

Mom was confident she was an expert when it came to utilizing the tacit understanding between a mother and her daughter.

When she opened the glass door, the heat washed over her again. Narrowing her eyes against the glare, she swiftly headed toward the running track. Even from a distance, she spotted someone lying beneath the flagpole.

"What a stubborn girl. She's really digging her heels in."

She quickened her pace, only to come to an abrupt stop.

Over a dozen students had gathered near the edge of the track. Some had covered their mouths, and some were backing away. One female student was crouched on the ground, dry-heaving.

Frowning, Mom pushed through the crowd. "Excuse me. Make way, please. Julia, get up. I got you—"

The rest of her words died in her throat.

She finally saw the state my body was in. The scalded skin on my arm had almost fused into the track, and my exposed flesh was now covered in dirt.

My face was ashen. My lips were a dark shade of purple. My eyes were half open, but my pupils weren't moving.

The strawberry ice cream cup fell out of Mom's hand. It spilled onto the burning track, turning into a pink puddle within seconds.

She lunged toward me, dropping to her knees and shaking my shoulders. "That's enough, Julia! Stop causing a scene. I've come to get you. I got you some ice cream. It's strawberry, your favorite…"

My head lolled limply from side to side as she shook my body, as though there were no bones left in my neck.

Mom held a finger under my nose and soon began to shake uncontrollably.

"Julia…"

Ms. Emery, the school nurse, squeezed through the crowd and pressed her fingers to my neck to feel a pulse. Ten seconds later, she looked pityingly at Mom and said, "Ms. Campbell… she's gone."