Chapter 1: Christmas Eve Showdown
Halfway through Christmas Eve dinner—a meal American families share to welcome the holiday—Mom suddenly pulled out my final report card and set it right in the middle of the mashed potatoes, so everyone had to look.
The scent of roasted turkey and pine needles filled the air, the glow from the fireplace dancing over the dining room. Just as my uncle was pouring sparkling cider for the cousins, Mom slipped my report card from her purse with a flourish, her voice cutting through the hum of conversation.
"English, 97 out of 100. That's really impressive."
The relatives, not understanding the situation, sincerely praised me.
My Aunt Sarah beamed and clapped her hands. "Way to go, Natalie! That's practically perfect!" Uncle Dave chimed in from across the table, "You must've worked hard for that, kiddo." Their smiles were warm, almost making me believe I should be proud. For a heartbeat, I almost let myself believe them. Maybe if I closed my eyes, I could pretend this was enough. But Mom’s standards always hung over me, ready to crash down.
But I kept my head down, because I knew Mom was about to turn Christmas Eve into my personal trial by jury.
A tightness formed in my stomach, twisting so hard it felt like my insides were being wrung out. My fork hovered above my green beans, but I couldn't bring myself to take another bite. I braced myself for what I knew was coming—Mom never missed an opportunity to make an example out of me.
"Impressive? What's impressive about that? Three students in her class scored above 98. Natalie’s score is too low."
Mom’s voice sharpened. I could feel my cheeks burn. My cousin Jamie glanced over, her brow furrowing in concern. Jamie’s hand drifted toward mine under the table, but she pulled back, like she was afraid Mom might notice.
"Ben from down the street used to do worse than her, but this time he got a 99."
I could picture Ben’s messy hair and the way his sneakers squeaked on the school gym floor. Suddenly, he was my rival, whether he knew it or not. The comparison stung, sharper because it came in front of the people who knew me best.
"One lousy point on the SAT, and you can kiss your dream college goodbye. If Natalie can't even get a 98 in English, she'll end up flipping burgers."
A hush fell over the table, the kind that felt like a weight pressing down on my chest. Even the Christmas lights seemed to dim a little, their twinkle muted by Mom's words. The clink of glasses and distant jingle of a Christmas playlist couldn’t drown out the sting of Mom’s words. In our family, future success was measured in numbers and next steps, and right now, I was falling short.