The St. Ignatius Academy exam hall was massive, with a high vaulted ceiling and white stone walls.
Sunlight streamed in through the tall frosted glass windows which were set in pointed arches, casting an ethereal white glow across the hall.
Aaron Zakhrov walked through the hall, a backpack neatly slung on both shoulders, and an exam card clutched in his left hand.
The hall was quiet, with other students sitting at their assigned desks, either nervously waiting, or conversing in hushed tones.
"Hey, kid. You lost?" asked a tall, broad-shouldered boy, as Aaron found his assigned desk.
"No, have an exam card, just like you," replied Aaron sitting down and placing his bag on the floor.
"Think you can handle Ignatius? This place is called the Ivy-League crucible, the Jesuit forge of Hell. I've heard that this entrance exam makes the SAT look like a walk in the park," said the boy with a smirk.
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Which is why we all are here, right?" he asked.
"Man, you are one cold dude. Guess not having your hormones kick in yet is a big help. Name's Jason by the way," said the boy, extending his hand.
"Aaron Zakhrov," replied Aaron, shaking Jason's hand.
The clip-clopping sound of high heels striking stone floors made Aaron and Jason turn their heads toward the source of the sound.
"Woah! Check that babe out!" whispered Jason, as he and Aaron observed a statuesque woman march through the hall.
Her shoulder-length red hair swayed like a flaming curtain with each step.
Her steps were short and measured, the metal stiletto heels and polished black leather of her pumps gleaming and sparkling in the ethereal white light of the hall.
The sleek black skirt-suit and pantyhose she wore, and the sheaf of booklets she carried in the crook of her arm, screamed no-nonsense executive rather than dowdy schoolteacher.
"Welcome to St. Ignatius Academy's entrance exam. I am Catherine Davis, the vice-principal," said the woman, her voice cracking like a whip across the hall.
Silence and tension filled the air as the students nervously waited for her to continue.
"You will have three and a half hours to finish this exam, I will warn you only once. Cheating and copying will not be tolerated under any circumstances. Any violators will be removed and blacklisted from taking the test again." continued Catherine, her brown eyes scanning the entire hall of nervous faces.
Her eyes met Aaron's - stern brown clashed with analytical blue - and slight prickling went down the back of her neck. She blinked in surprise that a young boy like him would have such an intense stare, let alone be in this hall. Quickly recovering, she handed out the test booklets.
Aaron received his test booklet and flipped through the sections: physics, chemistry, math, biology, computer science, English and catechism.
At the sound of the clanging starting bell, Aaron picked up his fountain pen and started to work on the test.
Catherine patrolled the hall, the silence broken by the soft scratching of pens, rustling of paper and the sharp clicking of her heels as she walked and observed the students writing their answers, her senses alert for any attempts at copying or cheating.
She paused at Aaron's desk, observing him with a sense of intrigue.
"Damn this kid likes a challenge! Most left-handed students stick to block writing and use gel or ball-point pens," observed Catherine to herself, admiring Aaron's steeply slanting, cursive script.
"Something the matter miss? You've been watching me for a while now," whispered Aaron, startling Catherine out of her musing.
"N-nothing, carry on," she whispered back and resumed her patrol, silently cursing herself for getting carried away in her scrutinizing.
Aaron watched Catherine resume her patrol, he wasn't sure what it was, but something about her stride, elegant black skirt-suit and clicking heels fascinated him. Pushing his fascination aside, he resumed his focus on a particularly challenging compound interest problem.
"I so despise commercial arithmetic!" he thought savagely, while taking comfort in the surprisingly soothing clicking sound of Catherine's heels.
As Aaron finished answering the last of the catechism questions, the bell rang again.
"Time's up! Pens down!" barked Catherine.
There was a shuffling and banging as students packed away their stationery and left the exam hall.
Aaron quietly packed his things and left the hall, returning to the school entrance hall where his parents were anxiously waiting for him.
"How did it go?" asked Ivan worriedly as Aaron approached them. He and Annette had just seen a couple of girls leave the exam hall in tears. "The core science subjects were quite challenging, the computer science section was almost too simple and the English and catechism sections were simple enough, I suppose," said Aaron.
"Well, you'd give MIT students a run for their money with those programming skills of yours," chuckled Ivan, eliciting a rare smile from Aaron.
"How was the English dear?" asked Annette, relieved that Aaron was still capable of smiling, and that he wasn't intimidated by the exam.
"They asked the most rudimentary of concepts in grammar and comprehension, Mother," answered Aaron as they left the school and Ivan unlocked the family's black BMW M5.
"Well, this calls for a treat. How about we go to Tuscany Cove?" asked Ivan as he started the car, its turbocharged V8 engine rumbling to life.
"That sounds wonderful dear," said Annette, her hands tightening on her seatbelt, and her smile growing strained.
"I hate this vile, loud, polluting car so much! I wish Ivan would get rid of this horrible example of toxic masculinity!" she thought furiously, holding onto the seatbelt like her life depended on it.
"I adore the sound of this V8 engine. Father worked really hard to afford this car. Mother's disapproval of it seems a little silly and excessive," thought Aaron somberly as he caressed the black leather of the back seat, reveling in the car engine's throaty rumble, and observing the traffic flick past as Ivan accelerated.
----
"We have a problem," said Father Abel Chang as he entered the principal's office, his face pale and his eyes wide with concern.
"Besides the one where we're being forced to admit a posse of politically connected spoiled brats?" asked Father Joseph Xavier, his deep baritone voice tinged with irritation.
"Yes, besides that. Take a look at this," said Father Abel, handing over a file to Father Joseph.
Father Joseph's expression turned ashen as he read through the file.
"Are you sure this information is accurate?" he asked, his voice low and serious.
"I double-checked with his parents. Aaron Zakhrov is 12, and he's the one who designed our new school ID system's most controversial subsystem. As to why he's applying here to the 9th grade, and not going on Shark Tank or something, it's out of his parents' concern for his social development," replied Father Abel.
"What do you mean? I thought some MIT professor did our system?" asked Father Joseph, confused.
"Ivan Zakhrov, Aaron's father, was the one we awarded the tender to. He's the one who built the whole NFC smart card package which integrates tuition, ID, attendance, grades - the whole shebang - into one convenient ID and system. But that crazy-ass subsystem which turns demerits into escalating fines and grade penalties? That was all Aaron," explained Father Abel.
"Please tell me you've instructed the faculty not to record demerits in the damn thing! If parents get a wind of it, we'd be up to our necks in lawsuits and God knows what else! That thing can bring down even more heat than corporal punishment!" said Father Joseph, his voice rising in panic.
"Yes, don't worry. I've informed the staff to not use it for recording any lapses in discipline. We'll be sticking to the old-school stern warnings," sighed Father Abel.
Father Joseph calmed down with a few deep breaths. "OK, Abel. I want you to keep a close eye on this kid. You know as well as I do that our hazing policy is not without its flaws, a 12-year-old pipsqueak in a sea of 15-year-olds going through puberty is going to need extra protection," he said gravely.
"I understand. I'll keep a close eye on him," said Father Abel, taking his leave.
"A kid who built us a system that weaponizes demerits, is enrolling because his parents think he's too much of a recluse. God help us all," growled Father Joseph.