Hatred

Maths was my favourite subject at school. Probably because I was really good at it. In English and Science I was rubbish, but not with maths. I was the top mathematician in my grade. It was something I truly enjoy. Something that made school actually bearable.

Trouble was, the upper maths group for year seven was a year six and seven mixed group. That didn't make any sense, but I suppose it did to the teachers.

There's a girl in grade six called Jackie. She's pretty and popular and as good as me in maths, which really bugs me. It was like we were in a fierce one-on-one competition every day, in that hour we had our maths lesson. Except no one won. Not then, anyway.

But despite all the rivalry, she was nice to me. She treated me like any other person, even in maths. We didn't hate each other.

Or so I thought.

One day, during break time, I went up to my classroom to fetch my pencil case. As I walked along the corridor, approaching the classroom, I heard Jackie's unmistakable voice.


"Emily is so annoying," it rang out, clear as a bell. "I really hate her. She's taking over me in maths."

Her words stung. Badly. I forgot what I went up there for, turned around and cried.

I never work hard in maths anymore.

She's already won.

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