1: 1
After the SATs, the whole class decided to spend the day at the paintball arena.
Teams were one guy, one girl, and the winning pair took home a matching couples' bracelet.
I turned toward my boyfriend, Burton Henson, without even thinking about it. But he'd already gone to stand beside Jenna Porter, the class beauty.
Jenna had her arm looped through his, grinning wide.
"Sorry, May Coleman. Burton and I are just used to gaming together."
"Besides, a butterfingers princess like you would only drag him down."
Thirty-five kids in the class, and in the end I was the only one left without a partner.
But I still managed to hide my way into the final round.
When only three of us were left, Burton suddenly messaged that his stomach hurt.
I rushed out to find him and caught a faceful of green paint instead.
Jenna leaped out, howling with laughter.
"May, you're out! Wow, you look just like a green-faced old witch now."
"Told you you were dumb. Burton faked being sick a little and you actually believed him."
Seeing me frozen in place, Burton frowned.
"That bracelet is the style Jenna likes. I promised I'd help her win it."
"You win enough on tests already. It's just a game. Don't be a sore loser."
I watched Jenna, egged on by the crowd, slide the men's bracelet onto his wrist.
And Burton, a smile tugging at his mouth, didn't stop her.
Turns out I'd lost more than just a game.
……
The green paint smeared across my face, some of it getting into my eyes, stinging until the tears came on their own.
My deskmate startled, then hurried over.
"May, are you okay?"
She called out loudly, asking if anyone still had tissues so she could help wipe me off.
The class monitor shook his head.
"It's hot out, everyone's been sweating buckets. The tissues are all gone."
"Henson the genius always carries a handkerchief on him, though. But he's a germ freak, hates anyone touching his stuff. He probably won't—"
He didn't finish. He shut his mouth abruptly, his expression turning awkward.
I followed his gaze and turned around.
Burton was using his handkerchief to wipe the sweat off Jenna's face, frowning as he did it.
"You played so wild your makeup's a mess."
Jenna giggled. "Well, I wanted to give you the bracelet as a graduation gift, didn't I? I'm not rich like May. I can't afford diamonds."
The handkerchief picked up some of her foundation, but Burton didn't seem to mind. He folded it neatly again and tucked it back into his shirt pocket.
"Better something you earned with your own effort than some people who live off their family like a freeloader."
I stood there mortified, pinching the hem of my shirt.
My deskmate wiped at my face with her sleeve, muttering under her breath.
"God, what's Burton's problem? What did anyone's money ever do to him? Your grades aren't any worse than his."
"His germ thing has exceptions now? Is he really even your boyfriend?"
I tugged the corner of my mouth. "Maybe."
But my eyes kept drifting to the bracelets on both their wrists, glinting harshly in the sunlight.
Burton had told me before that he didn't like childish things like this.
Last White Day, I'd made a special order at the counter for matching diamond pendants, meaning to give him one as a gift.
Burton had glanced at the brand and laughed, mocking.
"May, are you afraid people won't know it? Not only was my grandfather your family's driver, now even I'm a dog you'll leash with your fancy little collar?"
"I'm not your servant. I don't need your handouts. If you pull another childish stunt like this, I'll move out immediately."
Burton lost his parents young, and his grandfather worked as our family's driver for over a decade.
Later the old man fell ill and passed away, so my family took Burton in and raised him.
I'd thought he was just sensitive, and I apologized for a long time, telling him I hadn't meant it that way. He wouldn't even look at me.
Now, though, he didn't find it childish anymore.
Burton came over and looked my face over.
"I already asked. The water's shut off here today. Just bear with it and wash up when you get home."
Not a single word about having a handkerchief.
I looked at him. "You're wearing a matching bracelet with her. So what does that make me?"
Burton knit his brows, impatient.
"They're just two bracelets in roughly the same style. Can you stop acting like those people who obsess over relationships, slapping some pointless meaning onto every little thing?"
"Besides, it's not like you're short on jewelry. Everything you own is more expensive than this. There's no need to fight her over it."
My nails dug into my palm. I worked up the courage and asked him the same thing my deskmate had.
"Burton, am I really your girlfriend?"
The classmates around us held their breath, watching.
Burton's expression stalled for a beat. His tone went flat.
"May, only people with a shaky sense of self need to feel secure by making it known to the whole town."
"You really should learn from Jenna. She never acts like this."
Bitterness rose up my throat.
Here it was again.
He'd never once acknowledge our relationship in front of others, as if it were something shameful.
Because Jenna was clamoring to game with him, she smoothly took my seat again.
I sat in the back of the car, listening to Jenna go off on her teammates over the mic.
"So what if you've got a boyfriend cussing people out for you? Like nobody else has a boyfriend to back them up!"
She nudged Burton and pleaded softly.
"Come on, come on, Henson the heartthrob, it's the principle of the thing. Bail me out here."
Burton shot me a glance, as if hesitating.
But in the end he still opened his mic and said, mildly, "You're trash, go practice more. Don't like it, solo me."
I suddenly started to laugh.
Right. Jenna didn't need to beg for security the way I did, because someone would always offer it to her first.
Turns out it wasn't just the germ thing that had exceptions. Status did too.
