Aaron Zakhrov stood in the center of the St Ignatius Academy exam hall, taking in his surroundings.
It was massive, with a high vaulted ceiling, white stone walls and frosted windows set in tall pointed arches, making it look like the nave of a gothic cathedral.
The sunlight bathed it in an ethereal and diffused white light.
"Hey, kid. You lost?" asked a tall, broad-shouldered boy, as Aaron found his assigned desk.
"No, have an exam card, just like you," replied Aaron sitting down and placing his bag on the floor.
"Think you can handle Ignatius? This place is called the Ivy-League crucible, the Jesuit forge of Hell.
I’ve heard that this entrance exam makes the SAT look like a walk in the park," said the boy with a smirk.
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Which is why we all are here, right?" he asked.
"Man, you are one cold dude. Guess not having your hormones kick in yet is a big help.
Na’s Jason by the way," said the boy, extending his hand.
"Aaron Zakhrov," replied Aaron, shaking Jason’s hand.
He gave Jason a small smirk. "I’ve heard that they just introduced a new school ID system that automatically tracks infractions, and even levies fines."
"Oh yeah, I heard about that. The new system is so wicked, it makes the school the most advanced in the country, or the most controlling depending on who you ask," chuckled Jason.
"I suppose I’m in the forr camp, it’s the most efficient, dare I say civilized way to track and punish infractions.
No more begging teachers not to write you up, it’s all automated and impartial," said Aaron.
The clip-clopping sound of high heels striking stone floors made Aaron and Jason turn their heads toward the source of the sound.
"Woah! Check that babe out!" whispered Jason, as he and Aaron observed a statuesque woman march through the hall.
Her shoulder-length red hair swayed like a flaming curtain with each step.
Her steps were short and asured, the tal stiletto heels and polished leather of her pumps gleaming and sparkling in the ethereal white light of the hall.
The sleek black skirt-suit and pantyhose she wore, and the sheaf of booklets she carried in the crook of her arm, scread no-nonsense executive rather than dowdy schoolteacher.
"Welco to St. Ignatius Academy’s entrance exam. I am Catherine Davis, the vice-principal," announced the woman, her voice cracking like a whip across the hall.
Silence and tension filled the air as the students nervously waited for her to continue.
"You will have three and a half hours to finish this exam, I will warn you only once:
Cheating and copying will not be tolerated under any circumstances.
Any violators will be removed and blacklisted from taking the test again." continued Catherine, her brown eyes scanning the entire hall of nervous faces, until she saw Aaron.
Their eyes t - stern brown clashed with analytical blue - and slight prickling went down the back of her neck.
She blinked in surprise that a young boy like him would have such an intense stare, let alone be in this hall. Quickly recovering, she handed out the test booklets.
Aaron received his test booklet and flipped through the sections: physics, chemistry, math, biology, computer science, English and catechism.
At the sound of the clanging starting bell, Aaron picked up his fountain pen and started to work on the test.
Catherine patrolled the hall, the silence broken by the soft scratching of pens, rustling of paper and the sharp clicking of her heels as she walked and observed the students writing their answers, her senses alert for any attempts at copying or cheating.
She paused at Aaron’s desk, observing him with a sense of intrigue.
"Damn this kid likes a challenge! Most left-handed students stick to block writing and use gel or ball-point pens," observed Catherine to herself, admiring Aaron’s steeply slanting, cursive script.
"Sothing the matter miss? You’ve been watching for a while now," whispered Aaron, startling Catherine out of her musing.
"N-nothing, carry on," she whispered back and resud her patrol, silently cursing herself for getting carried away in her scrutinizing.
Aaron watched Catherine resu her patrol.
He wasn’t sure what it was, but sothing about her stride, elegant black skirt-suit and clicking heels fascinated him.
Pushing his fascination aside, he resud his focus on a particularly challenging compound interest problem.
"I so despise comrcial arithtic!" he thought savagely, while taking comfort in the surprisingly soothing clicking sound of Catherine’s heels.
As Aaron finished answering the last of the catechism questions, the bell rang again.
"Ti’s up! Pens down!" barked Catherine.
There was a shuffling and banging as students packed away their stationery and left the exam hall.
Aaron quietly packed his things and left the hall, returning to the school entrance hall where his parents were anxiously waiting for him.
"How did it go?" asked Ivan worriedly as Aaron approached them.
He and Annette had just seen a couple of girls leave the exam hall in tears.
"The core science subjects were quite challenging, the computer science section was almost too simple and the English and catechism sections were simple enough, I suppose," said Aaron.
"Well, you’d give MIT students a run for their money with those programming skills of yours," chuckled Ivan, eliciting a rare smile from Aaron.
"How was the English dear?" asked Annette, relieved that Aaron was still capable of smiling, and that he wasn’t intimidated by the exam.
"They asked the most rudintary of concepts in grammar and comprehension, Mother," answered Aaron as they left the school and Ivan unlocked the family’s black BMW M5.
"Well, this calls for a treat. How about we go to Tuscany Cove?" asked Ivan as he started the car, its turbocharged V8 engine rumbling to life.
"That sounds wonderful dear," said Annette, her hands tightening on her seatbelt, and her smile growing strained.
"I hate this vile, loud, polluting car so much! I wish Ivan would get rid of this horrible example of toxic masculinity!" she thought furiously to herself.
"I adore the sound of this V8 engine. Father worked really hard to afford this car.
Mother’s disapproval of it seems a little silly and excessive," thought Aaron somberly as he caressed the black leather of the back seat, reveling in the car engine’s throaty rumble, and observing the traffic flick past as Ivan accelerated.
----
"We have a problem," said Father Abel Chang as he entered the principal’s office, his face pale and his eyes wide with concern.
"Besides the one where we’re being forced to admit a posse of politically connected spoiled brats?" asked Father Joseph Xavier, his deep baritone voice tinged with irritation.
"Yes, besides that. Take a look at this," said Father Abel, handing over a file to Father Joseph.
Father Joseph’s expression turned ashen as he read through the file.
"Are you sure this information is accurate?" he asked, his voice low and serious.
"I double-checked with his parents. Aaron Zakhrov is 12, and he’s the one who designed our new school ID card system.
As to why he’s applying here to the 9th grade, and not going on Shark Tank or sothing, it’s out of his parents’ concern for his social developnt." replied Father Abel.
"OK, Abel. I want you to keep a close eye on this kid. You know as well as I do that our hazing policy is not without its flaws.
A 12-year-old pipsqueak in a sea of 15-year-olds going through puberty is going to need extra protection," said Father Joseph, his voice grave.
"I understand. I’ll keep a close eye on him," said Father Abel, taking his leave.
"A kid who built us a system that integrates Near Field Communication into a banking card, library card, locker key and infractions tracker, is enrolling because his parents think he’s too much of a recluse. God help us all," growled Father Joseph.
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