A few days later, the results of the SAT were announced. The first set of scores I learned about was Nash’s.
Before he got together with Yvonne, he ranked in the top thirty of our grade. If he could have secured the first prize in that international competition, going to the Florence Academy of Fine Arts wouldn’t have been a problem.
However, now with his hand injury, he had hardly attended any classes during the entire senior year, hadn’t completed a single test paper, and on top of that, he barely answered anything in the liberal arts
section of the exam.
His mother called my mom and wept on the phone, saying he had only scored a little over 1000 points, not even reaching 1100. Not to mention the Florence Academy of Art or the Central Academy of Fine Arts; he couldn’t even qualify for an ordinary undergraduate program and would have to settle for a college diploma.
Yvonne, on the other hand, had assumed that her beauty would help her pass the art exam with ease from the day she transferred to our school. She never expected her child to hold her back, and she scored just over 600, not even close to the university admission threshold.
Mrs. Xander was on the phone in tears, saying, “He was such a promising child before. We never restricted him, and now, he’s been led astray by that girl.”
My mom hurriedly consoled her, and Mrs. Xander gradually regained her composure. “What about Wendy? How did she perform?”
My mom fell silent for a moment. Just before receiving Mrs. Xander’s call, she had received a call from San Athens University’s admissions office. Although my scores hadn’t been officially released, it was unlikely that they would be poor.
“Wendy’s scores haven’t come out yet,” my mom said avoiding any statements that might upset Mrs.
Xander.
Only the top fifty in the city had their results delayed.
