class of 2013 ✓

03 | potential energy

"No way," Nea exclaims, turning on the stove, which makes a ticking noise as the flames flicker to life. The fan that blows away the fumes drowns out the sound of her voice, but I can still understand her clearly. "So you're telling me it's a competition now?"

"Yep!" I confirm, "Fingers crossed, they'll consider me in the race."

After class, I looked up the website listed on the bottom of the laminated print. The Grand Achievement award is regarded as the most prestigious in Warrington. Mostly because the qualifications are tight. To be considered, you had to be well-rounded. Not just in grades, but in extracurriculars and talent as well. Historically, Bridgeton, our high school, picks a student for the prize. Guess this year they wanted to shake things up.

From what I can gather, the rules are simple. The top 2 applicants will face off by completing multiple assignments prepared by staff members. At the very end, the teachers will vote for which candidate they think should win based on a criterion that includes: academic performance, involvement in school events, diligence, character, and resilience. I submitted my application 2 weeks ago, right before winter break, and the results are supposed to come out sometime this week.

Of course, Aria also won it before she died, which makes me want to win it even more. I can't have her one-up me in this aspect too.

Oh, and winning would look great on a college application. So that'd be nice too.

"They will," Nea yells over the thundering sizzling sound of the chicken chunks hitting the wok. Following a steady rhythm, she tosses them around with a spatula. Pretending like I'm actually doing something, I pour over the glaze, which is a mix of soy sauce, honey, peanut butter, garlic, and a bunch of other spices. Holding the handles firmly, she shakes everything vigorously to make sure nothing sticks to the appliance.

"That's what you said about Harvard, and look how things turned out," I tease, rolling my eyes. "It's your job as my best friend to encourage me."

"I mean, even if they reject you, it's their loss, not yours. They lost a great kid."

I roll my eyes. Even Nea doesn't look like she buys her own shitty explanation. "Yeah, I wish that were the case. Even without me, they're still Harvard."

"That reminds me," she says, "I have something to tell you. I forgot to last time I saw you."

"Remi!" Mrs. Wong suddenly calls, startling me, "you have a customer."

"Tell me later," I reply, grabbing a small notepad and heading into the main dining area, where a family is loitering on the threshold, near the golden Buddha statue. Zeroing in on the youngest, I realize the girl is very familiar. I've seen that aquiline nose, those thick brows, and that stunning smile before. In fact, I'm ashamed I didn't recognize her earlier since her face is very distinct.

"Hey Zuri," I greet with a smile. "Didn't think you'd be here on a weekday. Students are usually busy."

My classmate—Sazuri Torres—mirrors my expression. "Yeah, we're usually here on the weekend. Today's a special occasion, though. My dad's birthday, so I made time."

Behind her, her parents lurk on, a small smile on their faces. She's definitely a perfect mix of them both. She has her mom's heart-shaped lips and golden skin. That being said, I'd say she does look more like her dad. They have the same luscious black hair and hazel eyes.

"Happy birthday," I say to him, grabbing a stack of menus and utensils. Angling my head toward our destination, I lead them around 2 round tables, and towards the back. I halt in front of the table closest to the kitchen, setting down their things onto the silk table cloth.