Chapter Three

Many girls wanted to be Gael. She was ranked at twenty-seven in her level, Student Council vice president for her year and lead singer of the school a capella group. She was beautiful too, with neat brown hair, no eye bags and a straight posture. She could follow schedules without burning out and wash her clothes, and shower within the limited break times and never look shabby. No one could imagine her failing at anything.

“Below us is Basement 1,” said Gael, addressing the hushed group of juniors standing in pairs behind her. “Here we have the Indoor Sports Hall, Kitchen, storage and Engineering room. The sports hall has just been renovated, so there’s space for sports like futsal.”

The wide–eyed newbies dragged their feet over the squeaky cement floors as they peered around the school building. She remembered how she felt on her first day. Homesick, despite never having a home. Whatever home was, it was not here.

“At Level 1, we have the school canteen and hall,” she continued. “This is where we gather for meals and assembly in the morning, and even so, it is spacious. Everyone gathers here during meal breaks and assembly.”

When Gael first joined, she never believed she would adjust to life in the school as well as she had. Even though she was used to moving from one home to another, being hurled into such a harsh routine was tough. But over time, every corner of the school and its regime became imprinted in her brain. Her body would instinctively drag her to wherever she needed to be on schedule.

Besides the routine, there was a thought that kept her going. Time, she realised, passed the same here as it did outside. A year of her primary school life, blissful and carefree, was exactly as long as a dreary and gruelling year here. A day here was just as long as a day that she spent at the park with her foster family, the Seows. A week here passed just as fast as a week for them. And while they likely did not think about her as much as she thought about them, just knowing that a second of her life was worth just as much as a second of the dreamy life of the Seows gave her some solace.

She pondered whether she should pass on this thought to the newcomers, and quickly decided against it.

“Levels 2 and 3 are exclusively for classrooms,” Gael said instead, stepping out onto the smooth cement grey floors, which smelt thickly of the disinfectant used to scrub them the day before. “Bathrooms are on either end of the floor,” she said, using her authoritative voice that she put on for announcements and hosting school events.

There were low murmurs of chatter bubbling, as Juniors made awkward conversation while walking around the level. Gael overheard one of them asking another about where they were from. That was usually how most junior conversations started, since they all came from such diverse backgrounds.

That was how Gael herself had started conversations in her first week. After that, the teachers taught them that it was taboo to ask about another student’s past, so she stopped. “The past does not matter. Everyone deserves the chance to move on,” Discipline Mistress Ms Margaret had said. Gael agreed, and it was awkward to bring up the past anyway.

She watched as they looked up at the boards hung from the corridor ceilings which contained quotes from great leaders and inventors.

“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever,” said Gandhi.

“Stay hungry, stay curious,” said Steve Jobs.

“Life is like riding a bicycle - to keep your balance, you must keep moving,” said Einstein.

“We have become a developed economy because we put our minds to it and strive hard to reach our goals. Let us now complement our economic achievements with social, cultural and spiritual development,” said former Singapore Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong.

Every day, the quotes drifted over Gael’s head like stray birds. Occasionally, she would feel some inspiration from one of them, but it would be forgotten by the time she reached her next class.

“Level 4 is mainly research rooms. There is the library and three science labs, as well as three spare classrooms and the school clinic,” Gael continued as they went up, smiling to put the juniors at ease. “Also, there are some CCA rooms up here. You’ll join one, and spend time on them on the weekends. I’m from the Music Club. Our room was turned into a physics lab, so we share the dance studio now.”

Looking at the newbies, Gael wondered how much she had progressed from being in their shoes. It did not feel like much. When she was a junior, all the seniors looked like they had everything figured out. Now that she was in their place, she felt no closer to any sort of clarity.

“In the evenings, most of us will be on Level 5,” Gael continued, rapping her fingers against the metal railings. The white coat of paint over them was peeling, and rust was visible. “That is where we have study rooms and meeting rooms for group discussions. This is where we complete our homework and revise for tests.”

She opened the door to one of the study rooms to reveal an interior of blue plastic chairs, blue plastic tables, and wooden stools. There were felt boards on either side which displayed the names of students who performed well in their studies, and those who won national awards in competitions like music or sports, usually against Singaporean schools. Gael’s name was under both academic excellence and for winning a band competition, but she did not feel proud about it anymore. No one else paid it much attention, and she was beginning to understand that her peers disliked having her achievements shoved in their face. How could she have ever thought that they would be happy for her?

She shut the door quickly, avoiding making eye contact with any of the juniors out of fear of their looks of disappointment. “It looks boring, but it is nicer when everyone is in here together,” she explained.

They walked more quietly up the stairway now, going past a colourful poster of the food pyramid. There were several posters along each stairway, displaying messages generally about health. The one on the next level, for example, was about eyesight, and explained with cartooned drawings about signs that one’s eyesight was deteriorating.

“Boys stay on level 6,” Gael continued her explanation. “And girls are on Level 7. Each room houses ten to fourteen of us. We become very close with whoever we stay with.”

Gael’s roommates, Inna and Emma, were the most popular girls in school, so Gael was grateful to always have a big group around. It was nice to have friends, and also beneficial. While the teachers actively chided them for wasting time talking to each other, they also mentioned that making connections was valuable for when they went out into the Real World.

Gael stood outside one of the dorms and faced the juniors. “Floor 8 is for teachers and staff. We do not go up there unless it is really something urgent because teachers are busy preparing our lessons and marking. Always check with a Student Councillor first if you have an emergency to go up. There are staff rooms on the right, and the teachers’ living quarters on the left. Any questions?”

“What about Floor 9?” asked one of the girls after a period of awkward silence. “Isn’t that where they send you if you break rules?”

Gael was taken aback. Everyone would know about it sooner or later, but she had been told not to talk about that on her tour.

“Well… yes, it is an area for storage and occasionally punishments. But those cases are very rare,” she explained. “The people who get those punishments always deserve it.”

very rare. count the doors on the way up.

Thankfully, no one questioned any further.

“All right, that is the end of the tour. You guys can have a look around. There are two other stairways to the east, Staircases B and C, which you can use to get to other floors. There’s a lift too, but it is only for teachers.” She paused and then added, “You will all have a great time, trust me. Good luck!”