First Place Is Mine

The school had made a bold decision to strip the numerical rankings from the announcement of top students, citing concerns that publicly revealing ranks violated students’ human rights.

Of course, that didn’t magically make the ten chosen students appear truly equal in anyone’s eyes.

Even the worst delinquents who barely showed up to class understood the simple trick: the order in which names were listed was the ranking.

My phone buzzed.

I was ironing my uniform in the dorm when I set the hot iron down and picked up the tiny device that had practically become an extension of my hand these past few days.

The moment I tapped the alarm, the screen went white. Then the school’s painfully slow network began spinning that infuriating loading icon in endless circles.

It was one of those moments when practicing patience felt almost impossible.

I bit the corner of my lip.

There’s a chance your name will be first. Unless there are any special exceptions.

That’s what Ms. Bennett had told me last week.

She must have noticed how anxious I looked. After all, even though the announcement was scheduled for today, I still couldn’t put my phone down.

But remember, Evey. Trying to rank the ten top students against each other is foolish. It simply means every single one of them is outstanding.

Ms. Bennett had added the obligatory teacherly remark in a businesslike tone, as if she already knew I would tune it out with one ear.

Yeah. Her guess wasn’t wrong. To me, second or third place meant absolutely nothing.

Evey Underwood’s name had to be at the very front, no matter what.

That was exactly why I had enrolled in this Royal High School that I didn’t even need to attend.

The maddening loading image finally vanished.

The instant the page began to scroll downward, my breath caught in my throat.

Oh god, please.

Please!

“This is ridiculous!”

I dashed out of the office the moment Ms. Bennett stepped through the door and immediately confronted her.

“Why is my name in second place? At this rate everyone’s going to think I’m actually second. Doesn’t that seem wrong to you? I got perfect scores!”

“Hello, Evey. I’m delighted to inform you that the grade correction request period will begin soon.”

Ms. Bennett greeted me with a stony face and practically fled the scene.

I stubbornly chased after her.

“I’ll be generous and assume Quinton also got perfect scores like me. But listing us without any indication at all just makes everyone assume I’m in second! Is this in birthday order? Why didn’t you just do it alphabetically! Then I would have been first!”

“Hmm, well…”

Her answer was vague, and my anxiety spiked.

Was I really second? Not because of some obscure listing rule?

“Ms. Bennett, please. My entire life is on the line here!”

Maybe she couldn’t ignore my desperate pleading, because she finally let out a small sigh and stopped walking.

“Evey.”

“Was there an ambiguous phrase in my essay that got deducted later?”

“Not at all. Your answers were flawless in every respect.”

“Is it because I only succeeded in the practical exam on my second try? But I was allowed three attempts.”

“Evey. This isn’t about practicals or test scores.”

“Then what is it?”

Just as I asked with raw urgency, the school intercom blared to life, calling for Ms. Bennett.

She looked up at the ceiling like a believer receiving divine salvation, then offered a half-hearted apology and hurried away.

“Ugh, seriously!”

The moment I let out a frustrated shout, a massive shadow like an old tree passed right beside me.

My gaze followed it automatically.

And my face crumpled completely.

It was Cyrus Quinton.

The obnoxious bookworm with the silver-rimmed glasses who had snatched the top spot in this morning’s top-student announcement.

The way he strutted down the hallway with that arrogant, stiff expression was genuinely nauseating.

“So first place doesn’t even bother with greetings?”

Obviously I had never spoken to Cyrus before.

It wasn’t that I was singling him out. I kept a polite social distance from all the students and avoided getting deeply involved with anyone.

After all, I had only come here to take first place. I had zero interest in anything else.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t know who I was.

We shared several classes, and we competed in every single one of them.

He had to be aware of me as a rival…

Cyrus stopped walking, slowly turned his head, and lightly adjusted his silver glasses. A clear wrinkle had formed between his brows.

“Whether I’m first or whatever, I don’t greet people I don’t know.”

I was so stunned I couldn’t even respond.

What? Is he joking?

But those teal-green eyes, heavy with clear annoyance, made it obvious he really didn’t recognize me.

How was that even possible?

Not that I particularly wanted to be remembered by him.

“Evey Underwood.”

I carefully pronounced each syllable of my name, suppressing my anger, as if hammering it into his arrogant brain.

By now he should get it. My name had been listed right after his on the top students announcement.

He should have been on high alert, seeing me as the rival who would soon threaten his position.

“Right. Good morning, Underwood.”

But he offered a completely flat, disinterested greeting with zero inflection and turned to continue on his way.

I quickly stepped up beside him, and after about five strides he spoke again, irritation thick in his voice.

“What do you want?”

“Cyrus Quinton, you heard my name and nothing came to mind?”

“Should something have?”

“Of course it should! My name was listed right after yours on the top students announcement!”

He pulled out his phone like he had just remembered some annoying detail he’d forgotten. My eyes trembled violently.

Oh my god, you hadn’t even checked it yet?

He tapped at the phone that looked comically small in his large hand, glanced at the screen, then shoved it back into his pocket.

“I see.”

His utterly indifferent reaction left me wanting to scream, but I first needed to confirm the most important fact.

“When’s your birthday?”

“…September.”

“Ha, I knew it!”

I was born in October. Everything was crystal clear now.

“Don’t go thinking you’re the only one who deserves first place. I got perfect scores too. You just happened to be born one month earlier and stole the spot. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

Cyrus answered without a hint of interest and resumed walking.

I stared at his broad back, utterly speechless.

How can someone be that insufferable?

“Oh, so that’s just how it is?”

An unwelcome weight settled on my shoulder.

I turned with irritation in my eyes.

“Hands off, Logan.”

“Morning, dorm president.”

Judging by that bright smile, he must have overheard the entire conversation with Cyrus and found it entertaining.

“Don’t get too worked up. Nobody cares about top students these days. Well, except maybe the princess.”

He smirked when he said the word princess.

“It really is a ridiculous system.”

The system he referred to was a long-standing tradition in this small country.

As Logan said, it was rather absurd. Among the children born in the same year as the royal heir, the one who graduated Royal High School at the top of the class would marry the royal heir.

Call it talent recruitment through marriage, I suppose.

“And that’s what keeps this tiny nation running.”

I really didn’t want to, but I found myself defending the foolish tradition.

“Anyway, the one who should be worried about that glasses-wearing nerd staying in first place forever is the princess, not our dorm president.”

Logan flashed a grin and delivered what he clearly thought was a clever conclusion.

Yeah. He was right.

But the problem still remained.

The princess who would have to marry that rude, glasses-wearing jerk was none other than…

…me.

I genuinely wanted to die.