Ken Feng was dead set on braving whatever cold stares came his way.
He could've easily just stormed off, but his dad had only recently landed a big contract for the resort construction here, and taken out a hefty bank loan for it. Now was not the time for Ken to piss off Max Ma—definitely not a smart move.
Ken went over, grabbed a few chairs, and waved Hank Chu and Evan Lin over to sit with him.
They'd barely sat down before Max Ma squinted at Evan, grinning. "You don't look like a First High student. What, are you from No. 2 High or something?"
As soon as Max spoke, the whole group—guys and girls—turned to look at Evan.
Ivy Deng kept quiet.
Evan just nodded. No. 2 High was No. 2 High—whether it was Whitewood or Brightsea. Unless someone asked, he wasn't about to explain the difference.
Amelia Jiao caught Evan's nod and chimed in, "Didn't Ken and Hank go to No. 2 for junior high too? Were you guys classmates?"
At First High, people usually split into cliques by family background and grades, but there was also a divide between 'natives' and 'outsiders.'
One big reason Ken and Hank never really fit in was because they went to No. 2 for junior high—making them 'outsiders,' not pure First High blood. But Max, Amelia, and Ivy had all been at First High since seventh grade, so they were the 'natives.'
"Yeah, Ken and I were classmates in junior high, and Hank's class was right next door," Evan replied, nodding to Amelia.
"So why didn't you come to First High for high school?"
One of the girls giggled, resting her chin on her hand and blinking at Evan across the table.
As soon as she said that, Max and the others burst out laughing.
Why wouldn't someone go to First High? Either your family doesn't have money or power, or your grades are just trash.
Evan just shrugged, "No. 2 High's fine by me."
Max shook his head, smiling. "You're pretty chill, huh? No. 2's teachers and gear can't compare to ours—it's just reality. Why else would First High's college admission rates leave No. 2 in the dust every year?"
The guy next to him snickered, "Classic coping, dude. You just didn't get in because your grades are garbage, right? But hey, don't lose hope—work hard at No. 2 and maybe you'll scrape into a third-tier college."
Most of the group looked at Evan with open ridicule, then cracked up even harder.
Only Ivy Deng watched with a strange look, biting back words. Seeing Evan's calm face, totally unfazed by all the trash talk, she couldn't help getting more curious.
Any other kid would be dying to brag about going to Brightsea No. 2—a school two whole levels above First High.
Evan just kept his cool, grabbed a soda from the table, popped the tab, and took a long drink.
Hank couldn't take it anymore and blurted out, "Evan doesn't even go to school in Whitewood. He's at Brightsea No. 2 now—getting into a top-tier university is normal there."
The moment Hank said that, Max and his crew's smiles froze. When they glanced at Evan's calm face again, it stung even more.
Evan just shrugged. "Don't listen to Hank. Only the real study gods can get into top schools without breaking a sweat. I'm just a slacker."
The guy who'd been roasting Evan about 'spiritual victory' relaxed a bit and laughed, "At least you know yourself, man."
He kept going, "You know, this year First High actually got a third prize in the provincial math Olympiad—Martin Ma. He's just an average student here. Honestly, maybe at Brightsea No. 2, only the top elite are good. The rest are probably worse than Martin."
He didn't stop there.
A girl jumped in, "Yeah, Martin Ma got third place in the whole province! The school made a huge deal out of it. I heard the test was super hard—lots of schools didn't even get a single award."
"That's right! And Martin's grades aren't even as good as Max's most of the time."
The girls started chattering, gossiping nonstop.
Max's smile was just coming back, while Ken and Hank were busy thinking up ways to change the topic—anything to keep the group from ganging up on Evan. They worried all this trash talk might actually get to him.
But before either of them could say anything...
Evan took another swig of his drink, set the can down on the table with a clink, and glanced at Max. "If you're talking about the recent provincial math Olympiad, yeah, those problems were pretty tough. Took me almost an hour to finish it all."
The moment Evan said that, Max and his crew went silent.
Even Ken and Hank were shocked. They tugged Evan's sleeve, thinking he was going way overboard with the bragging.
Neither of them knew Evan had actually won first prize in the Olympiad, so hearing him say that so casually made them super nervous.
To them, Evan was never the show-off type—and besides, his grades were supposed to be pretty average.
Max's face darkened. "You saying you finished the Olympiad in under an hour and got first prize? You joking with me?"
"Max—" Ken started, worried, but before he could say more, Max snapped, "Don't talk!"
Max glared at Evan, clearly pissed. "If there's one thing I hate, it's people talking big with nothing to back it up. Hey, you said you got first prize in the Olympiad—where's your proof?"
Ken and Hank started freaking out, worried Evan might lose his cool and do something drastic.
The whole group looked at Evan with gloating eyes. Everyone loves a bragger—until someone calls them out.
If you can't show proof, you're basically slapping yourself in the face.
None of them believed for a second that Evan could've actually won first prize in the math Olympiad.
But Evan just lazily looked over at Ivy Deng and said with a playful tone, "Whether I won or not—she knows."