Landfall

It was raining.

That was the best Suni could manage as she stared out at the ocean. She leaned on the wooden railing, feeling the wind-weathered edges press into her forearms. The awning above her covered most of the summer cottage’s porch, but the wind was whistling across the water and it blew raindrops into Suni’s hair and clothes. Suni stared out at the aggravated sea and felt the moisture seep into her.

Her mind was like driftwood.

She watched the thunderclouds darken and closed her eyes to the rain.

The storm was picking up.

* * *

The test had been average, really, Suni thought as she waited patiently in her front-row seat—back straight, hands clasped in front of her on the desk, dark hair slicked back in a neat little ponytail at the nape of her neck. She expected nothing less than a ninety-seven. Maaaybe a ninety-six, if she had gotten that multiple choice question wrong. All in all, Suni was not nervous when the teacher called her name. She stood, accepted the overturned packet, returned to her seat, and flipped over the test.

It was ordinary in every way.

Three double-sided sheets of eight-and-a-half by eleven standard white printer paper stapled together in the top left corner. Stapled once, then again, for when the first staple had gotten stuck. Her name was written in careful cursive on the appropriate line: Suni Park, with a tiny heart over the ‘i,’ just as there had been since fourth grade. The date was printed in the other corner. Twenty-two questions, a mixture of multiple choice, short answer, and long answer. The only thing wrong with Suni’s test was the big red ‘C-’ staring out at her from the front page.

“If anyone has questions about their exams, feel free to come ask me before next period starts.”

Suni scrambled to the teacher’s desk, flapping her papers.

“Mr. Rivera, I think there must have been a mistake,” she blurted. Mr. Rivera looked up at her with kind eyes that said he had heard this many times throughout his career.

“Suni, right?” he asked her. She nodded, setting the test down before him—she could swear that ‘C-’ was jumping off of the page.

“This can’t be right,” she said. “I’ve never—I mean—I’m good at math, I….”

To his credit, Mr. Rivera took the test and flipped through it, nodding at what he was seeing. He set it down again.

“Suni, sometimes the transition from middle school to high school can be a little rough,” he started. “It’s perfectly normal. I can tell already that you’re a very diligent student, and I’m sure you’ve always done well in school. That being said, I stand by the grade I have given you on this test. I would be happy to go over it with you during lunch, if that would be helpful. You can stop by my office, it’s on the first floor…”

Suni had stopped listening. She was trying to fight off the pinpricks that had started attacking her eyes.

* * *

“Did you hear,” whispered one of Suni’s classmates, “I think Miles got caught cheating on the test.”

“Is that why he’s been out all week?”

“Yeah, I heard he got suspended….”

Suni rolled her eyes. Why would anyone cheat on a test? If you couldn’t get a good grade without resorting to deception, well….

Well, it was your own fault, and you should work harder.

“Suni, I’d like you to stay a little longer after class,” Mr. Rivera said quietly as he placed the latest math test on her desk. She sunk down into the hard plastic chair, stomach knotting at the thought of flipping the paper over. She peeled back a corner—and slammed it back down when she saw that frightful ‘C.’ As much as she wanted to run out of that classroom with her test buried deep at the bottom of her backpack, she dutifully waited for her classmates to file out instead. She avoided eye contact with Mr. Rivera until she could avoid it no longer. As the last student’s voice died in the hallway, Mr. Rivera cleared his throat and Suni looked up from her shame.

Mr. Rivera sighed at her expression. “Suni,” he said, “I know you’ve been frustrated with your performance lately in this class.” That was an understatement. “I know that you’re very capable, and I’d like to help you reach your potential here. Are there specific topics you’ve been struggling with? I’d be happy to go over them with you if you’d like….” He seemed to be expecting a response, so Suni shrugged, wishing she were anywhere else. Mr. Rivera pursed his lips. “There are also lots of great peer tutors available. If you talk to Dr. Schumann down in the library, she can set you up with one. You’d be able to meet one-on-one with a junior or senior once a week and go over any course material you might be having difficulty with.”

Suni shrugged again. It seemed the safest option.

“The only other thing I’d have to suggest is, if you’re really struggling in this class…perhaps you should consider moving down a level.” At the darkening expression on Suni’s face, Mr. Rivera quickly added, “there’s no shame in switching levels, Suni. All it means is you need to take this material a little slower than you thought. It happens all the time. And it might give you more freedom to do better in your other classes, as well.” Had he spoken to her other teachers? How did he know Suni had been getting bad grades in her other classes, too? “All I’m saying is, it’s been almost two months. I’d say if you feel you’re still struggling by the end of the quarter, you might want to talk to your advisor about moving down.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rivera,” Suni said, before he could come up with any more ‘suggestions.’ “I’ll think about all of this.” Waving, Suni smiled like it was a seventh grade bake-sale and took her test and her shame to the next class.

* * *

“Hey, sweetheart. How was school?”

Suni glanced up at her mother, who was home early.

“It’s only five o’clock, Mom.”

Suni’s mother gave her a funny look

“Well, I had to come home early today! Got Garcia to cover the end of my shift.” She winked. “Whatchya got there? Reading anything interesting?”

Suni looked down at the book in her hands. “It’s for school,” she said. “Um. It’s all right,” she added when her mother seemed to expect more. “Lord of the Flies.”

“Oh!” her mom exclaimed, setting her keys down. “I loved that when I read it.”

Suni shrugged. “It’s all right,” she repeated. Honestly, sometimes she thought she understood why most of her classmates just read the SparkNotes. It would make it easier. God, sometimes Suni just wished things were easier. That she wouldn’t have to work, and work, and work, and work––and for what? It’s not like her grades were improving…. But something in her just wouldn’t let her take that shortcut.

“How was orchestra?” her mom asked as she took off her shoes. “It is Tuesday, right?”

“Yeah,” Suni said, resigning herself to the fact that her mother wanted to have a conversation. “It was…fine. Good.” In fact, it had been awful. Suni kept making mistakes and was struggling to keep up with the other musicians. But her mom didn’t need to know that. Her mother nodded.

“Cool. Cool. Did you have a test today…?”

Suni looked down at the page she was on, her thumb making an indent in the paper. It was cutting off the word “nonsense!” so only the “sense” part remained.

“Math,” Suni said.

“How’d it go?” asked her mom.

“It was—okay. Yeah. Pretty good, actually.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d lied to her mom. By this point she’d lost count.

“That’s great!” Suni’s mother said, as if she was trying to make up for Suni’s lack of enthusiasm. “Hey, so what would you like for your birthday dinner?”

Suni blinked up at her mother, certain she’d misheard.

“What?” she asked. Her mother gave a half-smile.

“Your birthday dinner, sweetie. Why do you think I got home early?” She laughed. “Oh—and what kind of cake do you want?”

Suni stared past her mother and through the wall behind her.

“Um. Chocolate’s good.” Her voice cracked in the middle of “chocolate.”

“Yum. Sounds good. If you want my thoughts on dinner….”

Was it mid-February already?

Suni, dry-mouthed, realized she’d forgotten her birthday.

* * *

“Come see a movie with me Saturday night,” Monica tried again.

Suni poked at her rice.

It had been right in front of her. Annabel Wharton always tilted her test paper toward the edge of her desk. Today Suni was sitting behind her. And Annabel Wharton got the best grades in class.

“I told you, I can’t. I have a biology lab on Tuesday. And a history paper.”

If Suni just shifted her body slightly left, she’d have a clear view—

No!

No, she couldn’t.

That was cheating. That was wrong.

It would only hurt her, only prove she couldn’t do it herself.

But it would make everything easier.

“Uggghhhh,” Monica groaned, melting into the cafeteria table. “You never have time for me anymorrrre…! You’re always studying. Or in orchestra. Or ditching me for your cooler friends,” she added, picking at the peeling faux-wood laminate. Suni rolled her eyes.

It felt like Annabel’s answers were calling to her, begging her to look, pleading with her for just a glance.

Suni kept her head down.

She would not degrade herself like that, no matter how hard it got.

“I am not ditching you for cooler friends. I don’t have cooler friends.”

Monica popped up. “Okay, so come see a movie with me!”

And they had come full-circle. Again.

“Monica, I’m serious. I have to study.” Suni picked up a few grains of rice with her spoon and contemplated eating them.

Suni kept getting stuck. It felt like her brain was swimming in Jell-O. She couldn’t think. All she could do was try to squash that sickly temptation and keep going.

“I don’t even understand what you have to study for right now. Aren’t your teachers going easier because finals are soon? Besides, you never spent this much time studying in middle school,” Monica added in a mumble, head resting in her hands.

Suni bristled and decided the rice wasn’t worth it.

“Yeah, well, we’re in high school now.”

Hurriedly, Suni stood and handed her test to the proctor. She barely waited for him to check her name off the list before she sped out of the classroom. Only once she was past the door and halfway to lunch could she take a deep breath.

She’d done it, she’d gotten through it.

She’d stayed strong.

She’d probably failed the test.

“Where are you going?” Monica asked as Suni stood and gathered her backpack. “You’ve barely touched your food!”

Suni glanced at the plate of rice and chicken. “Not hungry,” she said, emptying her tray into the garbage can. “See you later,” she said, giving Monica half a wave.

“Suniiiii! Come baaaaack! Don’t leave meeeee!”

Monica may have been Suni’s oldest friend, but she just didn’t seem to get it. And so Suni ignored her and made her way to the library.

Some things were more important than going to the movies with friends.

* * *

“Suni, I want to talk to you about something,” said Suni’s mother.

Suni looked up from her Math final study guide. She knew that tone. If her mom sounded serious, it meant they were about to have a conversation Suni would not like.

“I sort of wish I’d said this earlier. I think maybe it could have been helpful. So, I’m sorry I didn’t,” started her mother. “I know you’ve been struggling a bit in school this year—”

What?

Suni froze, an icy stain growing in the pit of her stomach.

“—Mr. Rivera emailed me a couple of times this year.”

He did what?!

“He said you’re a very hard-working student but that you might need some help managing your course load. It’s just, whenever I asked you, you seemed like you were fine—though now I realize maybe I should have pressed harder—point is,” Suni’s mother finished, “if you think it might be helpful for you to have a little extra help with your finals studying, your father and I are happy to hire a tutor for you.”

What?

Suni felt numb.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Her parents were never supposed to know, because she was supposed to be perfect.

Why would Mr. Rivera tell her mother?! Didn’t he know she was trying?! Didn’t he know she was working so hard?!

She’d skipped out on so many movie nights with Monica this year just to study for his tests. She’d practically forgotten how to play the cello. She’d spent so much time reviewing and reviewing and reviewing…! She’d thought if she just worked harder, just studied better, just paid more attention, she’d be able to do it.

But he’d never thought she could, had he.

That’s why he’d emailed her mother.

And now her mom thought she couldn’t do it, either.

“It’s fine, Mom. I can do it,” Suni choked out.

But if Suni were honest, she already knew that she couldn’t.

* * *

The worst part was that it had been easy.

She hadn’t even thought about it much. Had barely realized she’d been planning it out.

It had been a simple matter of flipping through papers on Mr. Rivera’s desk after school. It was Tuesday, so he was running Mathletes and his room was unlocked. And, well, she figured Ms. Singh and the orchestra wouldn’t miss her for a few minutes. Her exhausted brain was on autopilot.

In the end, it was easy to find. She snapped a quick picture on her phone, rearranged the papers so that it was as if she’d never been there, and headed to the music room. After that, it was simply a question of memorization—and Suni had always been good at that.

It had all been arranged just so that, when Suni sat down in the examination room and flipped over her final exam, she knew all the answers.

Filling them out was the easiest thing she’d done all year.

The moment she left the room, having handed in her test with plenty of time to spare, she forgot all about it. She forgot all about school, and orchestra, and not hanging out with Monica. She went home, feeling almost normal for the first time in a long time.

“Yesss! That was the last one, right?” Suni’s mom asked when she walked in.

“Yep,” Suni agreed, with something like a smile on her face.

“Your father and I were thinking, it could be nice to take a family vacation this summer. What say you? We can go somewhere with a nice beach—I think we could all use some outdoor time!” She laughed.

“A vacation?” Suni swilled the word around in her mouth like it was a foreign flavor on her tongue. “You know…I think that sounds pretty nice,” she said. Her mother beamed.

* * *

At first, it was a relief.

Suni stared at her report card, at the little letter beside the word “Math.”

An ‘A.’

It was all she had ever wanted this year, all she had ever been working for. And now she had it and she could stop worrying, stop stressing, stop studying every second of every day.

She looked at the teacher comments section.

Great work, Suni! Mr. Rivera had written. I’m so proud of all the work you put in this year, especially on the final! I know it hasn’t always been easy for you, but you really turned it around! Now just relax and have a great summer; I’ll see you next year!

She read it again.

And again.

And again, until she practically had it memorized.

Suni had gotten an ‘A’ on the final.

Mr. Rivera was proud of her.

She could relax now.

It was then that the hulking wave of guilt crashed down upon Suni.

* * *

Suni heard the sound of the screen door sliding: open, then closed.

“Suni, honey?” Her mother’s voice. Suni didn’t turn. “Why don’t you come inside now? The rain’s really picking up….”

Suni shrugged.

“Sweetheart, you’re getting soaked.” Suni’s mother came to stand beside her at the railing—close, but not touching her.

Suni looked out over the railing at the maelstrom of wind, waves, and rain.

“Suni, what’s—”

“I can’t go in yet, Mom,” Suni said, turning to look at her mother. Her mom’s brows were furrowed, her mouth was pinched, and her eyes were that concerned shade of dark brown they got.

“Why not?” Suni’s mom asked her. There was an odd note to her voice, almost like a plea. Suni felt something wet slipping down her cheek. She couldn’t tell if it was a tear.

“I just…can’t,” Suni said, looking back out at the storm. Her voice grew quieter. “Not yet….”

Perhaps it was just the rain.