Tik-tok tik-tok tik-tok tik-tok—

The despicable sound reverberated in Orion's head, muddling his thoughts. It was the only thing his mind seemed to focus on as he stared at the wall-clock. When his attention gravitated elsewhere, the ticking would fade away into the background, replaced by his own monotonous heartbeat. There was no escaping the dullness.

A veil of silence hung over the classroom as Mr. Brown slithered between desks, distributing the graded math tests with a frown. Under his draconian rule, no one was allowed to speak as he did this—not that anyone even bothered that day. The test was worth 35% of their final grade, so everyone was too high-strung to even breathe, especially Orion.

Five more minutes until the end of the period, and the man still hadn't returned Orion's test. If the bell went off, he would have to wait until Thursday to know his score. Orion wasn't physically able to wait that long. He had already developed a nervous tic in his left leg, and it was only Tuesday.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a hand slapped the paper down in front of Orion.

"That's all, folks. You may talk—just keep the volume of your voice at a minimum. The room next door is still taking a test." Mr. Brown trudged over to his desk, picked up a book, and sat down, tuning out the subsequent uproar.

Everybody wanted to know how everybody else did. Everybody except Orion, of course. He was too immersed in his own world to care about what happened around him.

He observed how the red ink had bled through the paper, in blotches forming a perfect circle. But that wasn't what peaked his interest. It was the letter inside, and as of now he didn't like what he saw: a big, fat, reversed 'B'.

'B' for 'breakdown', because that's what Orion would do if that was really his grade.

It was his third one that term, a very bitter pill for his parents to swallow. But he could be wrong—it wasn't unusual for his incompetent teacher to make mistakes.

So that's what he banked on as he flipped it over, only to be met with disappointment.

His stomach lurched.

"Excuse me, sir," Orion found himself saying, his voice tight. He wanted to reach into his backpack and pull out his inhaler, but his hands had a vicelike grip around the edges of his desk.

His teacher nodded and flipped a page.

Did he hear me? Was that nod for me? I should ask him, or maybe not. He probably can't hear me. If only these idiots would shut up for second I—

He took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. Now wasn't the time to let his anxiety get the better of him. He would simply call for his attention again.

"Mr. Brown?" Orion lifted the paper into the air, and this time, he got a reaction. If looks could kill, he would have been a pile of ash on his chair.

"What is it, Zhou?" There he went with the last name. Orion knew what was coming.

"I think—I think you may have made a mistake...I mean, are you sure that—"

Orion's eyes immediately dropped to the monstrosity, as if on cue. Only then did he notice that it wasn't just a'B' that he saw on his paper, but a 'B -'.

How did I miss that? It wasn't there before!

Time of death: 3:20 PM. Cause of death: heart attack.

"I am very sure," Mr. Brown said, unaware of his student's internal struggle, "I actually checked your test not twice, but three times. I triple checked it." Suddenly, he clapped his book shut and slammed it against the table. "For Christ's sake, is it possible for you to talk to each other without yelling? I can't hear Orion!"

The noise in the room dropped by a couple of decibels, and a million eyes fell on Orion.

Thanks for throwing me under the spotlight.

"I don't understand what your concern is," his teacher continued, as if he hadn't just screeched like a crazed pterodactyl, "the level of difficulty for this test was considerably higher compared to the previous ones, and you have gotten one of the highest scores in the class. If I were you, I'd feel pretty good about myself." He gave Orion a forced smile, the kind you get from killers in nightmares.

This man, out of all people, should've known just how insufferable Orion's parents were. Especially when it came to Mathematics. It didn't have to be said that they expected nothing less than an 'A' for the subject.

"But it will bring down my average!" Orion squeaked, and could've sworn that he heard a couple of swears ricocheting around the room. All directed towards him.

He sunk lower into his seat. The need for oxygen was becoming unbearable now—if he didn't get any fresh air within the next thirty seconds, he would pass out.

Orion could already feel a cold sweat building up.

Mr. Brown stared at him as if he had grown a second head. "Actually, you've given me an idea." He stood up—his lanky body unfolding itself like deckchair—and walked towards the whiteboard. "Class, I know I've said that you'd be free of all homework for the week once this test was completed. But I've changed my mind."

A collective groan.

"Seeing that the majority of you have gotten a 'C' or lower, I've decided to double the amount of work we will be doing, both in and out of school. It is clear that you have yet to completely grasp the topic of Algebra—your test scores will remain on record, but you will have the opportunity to redeem yourselves. Class dismissed."

Orion didn't bother standing up with the others, even when the bell rang. He kept his head down instead, trying to ignore the way his body swayed with every shove he received.

"Way to go, loser."

"Thanks for ruining my week."

"Teacher's pet."

"Hey, don't listen to them." A bright-eyed, curly-haired girl threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.

Orion reflexively winced at the contact, but when he turned to see who it was, a small smile crawled onto his face. It was Barbara, the only person he could call friend.

"They're right though," he muttered, shrugging her off. She gave him a pained look.

"No they're not. They're just jealous." Barbara aligned his stack of notebooks, and bent over to pick up a pen, "and stupid," she added. Orion raised an eyebrow, but before he could retort she picked up his test paper and shrieked, "You got a 'B' too? That's awesome!"

Orion couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm; as much as he wanted to remain cynical, her positivity was far too contagious. He shoved everything into his backpack and zipped it shut, feeling a warmth in his heart that hadn't been there before.

"Are you doing anything after school today?" Barbara looped her arm through his, and tugged him out of the room. Only a few students remained in the hallways, chattering with each other in front of the lockers; most of them had already left the building.

Orion stumbled along beside her, trying to keep up with her long stride. She was a good five inches taller than him, and it more than showed.

"Yeah, I'm going to write my will and testament. I don't think I'll live to see another day."

-:-

"What is the meaning of this?" Jian Zhou roared over the dinner table. His son's misshapen test in a clenched fist, it's red crosses overpowered the black checkmarks. It was fitting, considering that the colour reflected the man's current tumultuous mood.

Orion rested his chopsticks against the rim of his bowl, his watery gaze cast downwards onto his Wonton soup. The meaty aroma shimmied into his nostrils, but rather than make his mouth water, it made him want to hurl. Maybe showing his parents his test score right before dinner hadn't been such a good idea after all—not even his mother's delectable cooking had been able to quell her husband's inner demon.

"This is unbelievable. Simply unbelievable. Your third one this term, do you know what that means?" His reading-glasses slid down his nose. Anger unfaltering, he shoved them back up so aggressively, it was a miracle he hadn't accidentally gauged out an eye.

It was hard to believe that this man was a paediatrician. Then again, he didn't treat other people's children the way he treated his own.

Orion nodded, his neck tense.

He didn't dare look him in the eye.

His father continued on, listing the dozens of ways his youngest son was a disgrace to the family, whilst using his chopsticks as daggers to stab the air. Orion had no choice but to absorb the abuse, each thrust painfully piercing his stomach. A long and exhausting day at work, and Orion's 'bad' grade was the rotten cherry on a melted sundae.

Orion briefly glanced over at his mother, Li Juan, to see what her reaction was to all of this. She was more gentle, understanding, and often more rational than her husband.

She hadn't stopped eating, but her discomfort was evident in her actions; she picked up a noodle, bring it to her lips slowly as to not lose the thread of the conversation.

"Li Juan, I told you that he wasn't studying enough, and here is the proof!" His father waved the paper around, then balled it up and threw it at Orion, hitting him square in the face.

It bounced meekly against his forehead, then landed with a plop in the soup.

Orion found himself on the verge of tears as he fished it out and placed it beside his plate.

"That's enough Jian," she said calmly, shooting her husband a look, "Anger won't resolve the issue."

"What will then? What are you suggesting?" Jian's attitude had simmered down considerably, most likely from his mother's silent warning, but the resentment was still there. The protruding vein in his neck gave it away.

Li Juan looked at her son with pity in her eyes. She took a breath, then said, "I think we need to get him a tutor."

Jian looked at her in disbelief. He held his drink suspended in the air, as if unsure whether to take a sip from it or smash it against the table. "That's out of the question. No son of mine will get a tutor."

"What do you suggest we do then?" She placed both hands on the table, one on either side of her bowl. She glanced over at Orion again, but this time her expression was unreadable.

"Starting by tomorrow, I am going to check his diary. As soon as I return from work, I'm expecting it to be right here, on the dinner table." He gestured towards the spot with one hand and picked up his bowl with the other. "And before bed, all his homework." His almond eyes, filled with repulsion, went to Orion. "I don't want to see another 'B', or there will be trouble, you hear? Consider yourself lucky that the education system here is no where near as strict as the one back in China—now stop staring at your soup like a fool and finish it."