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, 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 newbies dragged their feet over the cement floors, their shoes squeaking, as they peered around the school building. She remembered how she had 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. Even with everyone in it, it is spacious.”

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 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 blissful year of her primary school life was exactly as long as a 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, knowing that a second of her life was worth as much as a second of the Seows’ gave her some solace.

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

Before they left the canteen level, Gael pointed through the east windows at Damai, the school’s famous Angsana tree, its branches spreading wild over everything around it. It was over three hundred years old, older than any building on the island. The story went that the colonials had once tried to cut it down, and the tree’s spirits had driven them off with tigers and fevers. “That’s just a story,” Gael added, the way she had been taught to.

“Levels 2 and 3 are exclusively for classrooms,” Gael said, stepping out onto floors that still smelt of the disinfectant used to scrub them the day before. “Bathrooms are on either end of the floor,” she said, in the authoritative voice she put on for announcements and school events.

Chatter bubbled up as the juniors made awkward conversation while walking the level. Gael overheard one of them asking another about where they were from. That was 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.

The juniors 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. Gael had once looked the Jobs quote up in the library and found that the school had got it wrong. She never told anyone.

“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 far she had come since she had been 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 clarity.

“In the evenings, most of us will be on Level 5,” Gael continued, rapping her fingers against the metal railings. The white paint was peeling, and rust showed through. “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 up under academic excellence, and again for a band competition, but she did not feel proud of 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? One of the juniors, a small girl at the front, had found Gael’s name on the board and was looking from it to Gael and back with wide, hungry eyes. Gael recognised the look. She used to wear it.

She shut the door, avoiding the juniors’ eyes. “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, one of the health posters that lined every stairway.

“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. Emma was tall, with glossy braids and a smile that switched on all at once. Inna was softer and quieter, her black hair curling around her face, her own smile always arriving a beat behind Emma’s. It was nice to have friends, and also beneficial. While the teachers 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 said. “The people who get those punishments always deserve it.”

Thankfully, no one questioned any further.

“All right, that is the end of the tour. Staircases B and C are to the east. The lift is only for teachers.” She paused and added, “You will all have a great time, trust me. Good luck!”