The tale of the 8 began in our last semester of high school, on a rainy day. Actually, it rained every day in the mountains. But that rainy day was mostly special. You see, a rumor that had been circulating for a while was almost confirmed. The language teacher, Mr. Willy, was returning our quizzes. He had given us one in the morning, as a surprise. It was something common. We just couldn't figure out which day he'd shock us. His aim was for us to be ready all the time.
We all believed that that 'surprise' quiz surprised all of us and the first person would score 30 marks out of a 100. But then he called her name, his favorite student, Ylle Sky-blue.
"I wish everyone in this class could be like this girl.", said Mr. Willy, looking straight proud at Ylle, "97 out of a 100."
Heck!
I mean, stone me if I'm wrong, but there's no way on Earth that one would score that in Mr. Willy's test. His exams were complicated as his way of challenging us. But scoring above 90 was very impossible.
I wasn't the only person with something stuck in my throat. I noticed my classmates fake-coughing and pinching each other under the desks, a sign of a rumor confirmation. You see, it had been said, I don't know by who, that Ylle and Mr. Willy had something going on. Some had even confessed to having caught them alone during night studies. While the rest of us bursted a lung cramming all night, one of us was having it easy.
"Stand here.", Mr. Willy instructed her.
Ylle stood in front of the class, holding her A+ in her hands.
"Tell your classmates how you did it.", Mr. Willy continued.
"How I did what?", Ylle asked, a bit confused I guess.
"How did you score 97, and the second has 55?",
Ylle shrugged, like it wasn't that big of a deal to her, "I don't know.", she said.
I'm sure even Mr. Willy was kind of disgusted by the answer. We expected some long explanation but she wasn't much of a talker. I hated her character.
Later that evening, during supper time, me and my buddies had sat in a group, gossiping about this and that, and the first topic that popped up was Ylle.
"I know why she had nothing to say.", one of the girls began, "I mean, how do you tell everybody that the reason why you scored 97 was because you fucked a teacher?",
"Right?",
Other girls seemed to agree with her. It did make some sense to me. Students and teachers affairs weren't new, only underground. Back then we thought we had unveiled one of them.
"Who's pretty between me and her?", asked this other girl, light skinned.
"Of course, it's you. She's not even in the top 50 of the prettiest girls in our class.", another girl responded.
"So why is Mr. Willy playing with her? What is her deal? Does she have something special?",
"A bleached skin maybe. We all know she used to be as black as charcoal. Look at her now _".
Her sentence was interrupted by a startling entrance. Ylle had come to class to get her plate. Our voices were too loud to miss, so I'm pretty sure she heard our conversation from a mile away. To our surprise, she didn't even flinch. The rumor about her and Mr. Willy's fuckery wasn't just born. It had begun a while ago, and she must've heard about it, but never once did she sit someone down to try and explain her side of the story. Either it was completely true, or a complete sham.
"Hey, Ylle.", a girl called from our group.
"Yeah.", she looked at her,
"How did you get 97?", she asked.
We were already caught gossiping about her. One might as well just roll with it till the end.
Ylle huffed, "I don't know.",
"We kind of don't believe you. What time do you study?",
"When the teacher is teaching.",
"That's when you study?",
"Mh.", she nodded.
She took her plate and exited the classroom, leaving us trying to figure out if she was indeed a genius or just made a fool out of us.
***