Welcome to tokoni

            The flag hangs motionless. Small rays of sunlight peek out on either side of the school, trying to illuminate the dark morning sky. Goosebumps cover my arms and I squeeze my boiling cup of tea harder. A late night of studying with five precious hours of sleep leaves me weary. The desolate walk from the student parking lot to the school entrance seems endless.

            Three of my friends walk a bus length ahead of me. As I quicken my pace to catch up with them, I hear the low crackly voice of Sarah, a girl with long, crimped red hair. The black messenger bag slung over her shoulder crashes against her hip with every stride.

“Yeah I took the SAT diagnostic,” her voice echoes. “The girl next to me was like ‘Hi what’s your name? Do you cheat?’” The girls giggle. Sarah continues, “And I was just like ‘Yeah’ and she was like ‘Okay good me too.’” The giggles turn to laughs. Flattered by the approval, Sarah looks down to hide her proud smile.

Now the voice of Nicole, a short, chubby brunet, chimes in. “I have like those go-to people in my classes who I can just cheat off of. Like we work together.”

“Me too. I have like three Germans,” announces the high pitched shaky voice of Julia, a 5’11” socially-awkward junior.  

            I slow my pace. My disgust makes it hard to continue the cold journey.

“Germans?” Hilary sounds surprised.

“Yeah, because I do full IB. There are so many Germans. Like my classes are dominated by Germans, they are all so smart.”

As a full IB student who sacrifices sleep and free afternoons for good grades, I cannot stand hearing stories from cheaters who take short cuts and manage to achieve the same sparkling GPA. An irrepressible anger bubbles within me. I tell myself to relax.

Just as I am thinking of a way to slow down so that I do not have to look these liars in the eye, Julia turns around. With an innocent smile, she acknowledges me. I nod my head.

“Campbell, aren’t there so many Germans?” She includes me in the conversation that she knows I have been listening to.

“Yep the IB program is full of them,” I say apathetically. “Basically everyone in our classes is international.”

The conversation comes to a close as we walk up the steep stairs to the entrance. We walk through the same door and then take our separate paths.  I head up to the math office to ask my teacher a few questions before my 5^th period test. I prefer consulting the teacher rather than some German’s paper.