I Hid My Perfect Score novel · Chapter 1 of 32
Chapter 1: Thirty Minutes
On deadline night the family plans Paisley's future and forgets Joss, so Joss commits to the school farthest from home, until Mom reads her phone aloud: a perfect 1600.
The whole family was crowded around my twin sister at the kitchen table, fighting over where she should go to college.
Nobody had asked me yet.
Gavin had the college list open on his laptop and kept stabbing the top line with his finger.
"Hartwell. Obviously. You'll be a freshman on my campus and I can watch out for you."
Cade reached across him and set a glossy Weston brochure right on top of Paisley's plate.
"Don't let him boss you. Come to Weston with me. Four more years, same as always."
Paisley laughed and pushed her curls back.
"You two are going to make me cry."
Mom squeezed her shoulders from behind. Dad raised his iced tea at her like a toast.
"Either one is in Boston," Mom said. "Somebody will be there to look after you. We can finally sleep at night."
The clock on the stove said 11:30.
The commitment deadline was midnight.
I was sitting at the far end of the table with the application guide in my lap.
It took a long time for anyone to remember that I had taken the SAT too.
Mom finally glanced down the table at me.
"Joss, honey, your scores weren't great. Just pick any school up there in the city. It doesn't really matter which."
Gavin didn't even lift his head from the laptop.
"Yeah. All four of us in one city. Sunday dinners. Easy."
Cade clicked his tongue at me.
"Thirty minutes, Joss. Try not to mess it up this time."
My fingers went white around the guide.
When we were little, the four of us played pretend in the yard between our house and Cade's.
Paisley was always the princess in the tower.
Gavin was always the knight who guarded the door.
Cade was always the prince who fought through the hedge to save her.
I was always the witch.
Somebody had to be, Paisley said, and I was the one with the scary face.
I used to stand by the hedge and wait for the part where they chased me off.
I looked around the table now.
Nobody was looking back.
Paisley was reading the Weston brochure out loud in a fake announcer voice, and everyone was laughing.
I opened my laptop under the table.
I logged into the score portal one more time, just to see it.
Evidence-based reading and writing, 800.
Math, 800.
Total, 1600.
I had told them 1180.
I told them that the same week Paisley told everyone her 1340, and Mom bought a cake with a little graduation cap on it.
Three years ago I beat Paisley at the state science fair.
She locked herself in the upstairs bathroom for six hours.
Mom sat outside the door the whole time, and when Paisley finally came out, Mom walked into my room and held out her hand.
"Give it here. Your sister can't breathe with that thing in the house."
I gave her the trophy.
I never saw it again.
After that I kept my head down.
I learned to get questions wrong on purpose when Paisley was watching.
I learned that a B kept dinner quiet.
But I never got the SAT wrong on purpose.
I just never told anyone what I got.
On my laptop I had four acceptance letters nobody had asked about.
One was from a state school in Boston, the one Mom meant by any school up there.
One was from the university in Fairbanks, Alaska.
Full tuition. Books. And a free bunk in a working fire station, if I could pass their firefighter training.
I had applied at two in the morning, after Paisley's birthday party, the one where nobody remembered it was mine too.
I had never once thought I'd actually go.
I looked at the map on the brochure.
Fairbanks was three thousand four hundred miles from this kitchen.
Too far to drive home for a weekend.
Too far for anyone to drop by and check on me.
Too far to miss.
"Joss," Mom called. "Pick something. You're making everyone nervous."
"I'm picking," I said.
I clicked the Fairbanks offer.
The screen asked if I was sure. This decision is final.
I clicked yes.
It asked for my name as a signature.
I typed Jocelyn Ann Carmody, letter by letter, and pressed submit.
A little green check mark came up.
Congratulations. Welcome to the class of 2030.
It was 11:41.
Nobody at the table noticed.
Paisley was hugging Cade. Gavin was complaining that Weston's dining hall was overrated.
Dad was already on his phone, looking at hotels in Boston for move-in weekend.
He booked two rooms.
Not three.
I closed my laptop and set my phone face down on the table.
"Done," I said.
"Good girl," Mom said, without turning around. "Which one?"
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed against the wood.
Then it buzzed again.
Mom was closest. She picked it up the way she'd been picking up my phone since I was twelve.
"Oh, it's the school," she said brightly. "Let's see where our Joss ended up."
She started reading out loud, in the same announcer voice Paisley had used.
"Dear Jocelyn. Welcome to the University of Alaska..."
She stopped.
Her eyes went back to the top of the screen and read it again.
"Alaska?" Gavin said.
Mom didn't answer him.
She kept reading, slower now, her voice going thin.
"Your full scholarship has been confirmed on the basis of your perfect SAT score of 1600."
The kitchen went completely silent.
Paisley's glass of lemonade slipped out of her hand and broke on the tile.
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