"So, how’s your archery class, ladies?" our Dad inquired while chewing his food. He looked at both of us, my sister and me.

My sister and I exchanged glances upon hearing his question. I'm not bad at archery, but my sister? She's not that athletic, which makes her struggle. I'm not trying to insult her, but she is genuinely the worst.

"Fia is doing great! She hits the bullseye every single time she releases the arrow. It's fascinating to watch. I hope you can join us, Dad!" my elder sister, two years older than me, said with amazement gleaming in her eyes. She almost clapped with joy as she spoke.

I smiled quietly, observing how my sister spoke of me. She's always like this. Even though she and her achievements are always the focus of our parents, she never forgets to boast about me in front of them. Only my sister can understand and uplift me, and I am very grateful to have her.

Mom's right; she really is a perfect daughter. "Good to hear. Now you have something you're good at," Dad commented. My sister, Fiona, gave me a smile that encouraged me to speak more. She even raised her hands in front of me. I felt a bit embarrassed by her actions, but I reciprocated nonetheless.

I cleared my throat before responding to Dad. "Thank you, Dad. It's an honor to hear your compliments," I replied with all due respect. He is known as an eminent figure, and I couldn't say anything that would make the atmosphere heavier.

"I'm sorry we're late, Jake!" The door swung open, revealing Carl and his parents. They were dressed in formal attire, just like us. They walked elegantly towards our table, resembling a noble family from another country, which they truly are.

Three maids swiftly approached and arranged chairs for the visitors. I saw Carl smiling from ear to ear. I raised an eyebrow at him. What's he up to? Tsk.

My sister nudged my shoulders. I wasn't sure what she was trying to convey, but I think she's subtly suggesting a connection between me and Carl. I playfully rolled my eyes at her, making her chuckle.

Could they stop doing that?

"So, what did we miss?" Mr. Henry began talking while adjusting his clean clothing on his lap.

"We were just talking about the achievements of our two daughters!" My mom exclaimed, making me nervous. Here we go again. I hate it; I don't want these things discussed in front of Dad. There are guests, and I despise being humiliated in front of others.

"I heard Fiona aces all her subjects again! It is very nice to have a daughter like that!" Carl’s mom begins the conversation. They each took their cutlery and started eating.

"Yes, it is. I don’t have any problem finding tutors to help her out. Well, she’s the perfect daughter I’ve ever had. Smart, adorable, and kind; she has it all!" Mom said joyously, making Fiona blush. I silently hope mom would say something like that to me.

"Well, our boy is working harder than anyone else too! He is on the top of the list at his school!" Of course, Mrs. Beltran won't be outdone, proudly showcasing her grinning son in front of me.

I discreetly rolled my eyes. What the heck is his problem?

So, this is what happened – they exchange achievements of their favorite child. My name’s out of it, and that's the expectation. I'm never that good in academics; I don’t know, but I feel like I'm adopted.

"I heard Fiamiolle is Carl’s classmate?" Mrs. Beltran said. I lifted my head and stared at Dad, who stopped eating and glanced at me.

I swallowed nervously. Why is she including me in the conversation? I was peacefully eating here; why am I involved? Oh, God!

Right, this is Mrs. Beltran – my mother’s worst enemy. I don't know, but we're wealthier than them. However, my mother is insecure about Carl’s mother, and she doesn't want to lose an argument with her. And there’s Mrs. Beltran, who also doesn’t want to lose, so she uses my mother's least accomplished daughter. Guess who? Me! Tsk.

High tide – I mean, pride, people.

"Uhm, yes, Mrs. Beltran, we are," I answered. I saw Carl trying to suppress his laughter. He knows I'm keeping myself out of the conversation, so he's seriously making fun of me. Curse him.

"I also heard that you’re sleeping in your class, why would you do that, Fiamiolle? You need to make your sister your role model!" Mrs. Beltran exclaimed. She’s hiding her grin with her fancy fan while looking at my mother, who is frowning.

I heard utensils harshly put on the table. Now, it’s started. The humiliating crime scene.

"I am disappointed in you. I know you’re having difficulties with your studies, but can you do more? Study harder than anyone else; we are tired of getting tutors to fill up that brain of yours. You’re disgracing our family’s name!" My dad stormed out, angrily staring at me.

I feel my sister intertwine her fingers with mine; she’s giving me strength.

Are they happy now that our dinner's ruined because of their childishness? Tsk.

"I’m sorry to disappoint you, Dad. I will study harder from now on," I said, a phrase I utter every time I have a family dinner with them. I feel like Dad has it memorized, given his deep sigh.

"I heard that before," he said, making me look down.

I don't know what to say now. I felt humiliated. We were peacefully eating earlier, and it was ruined when Carl’s family arrived. Shameless.

I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the tears threatening to escape any moment now. Great, just great!

I raised my head to speak, but Carl beat me to it.

"But she’s making progress in class, Sir! She’s great at oral recitation; she even answers the questions asked by Ma’am Buenaverde today!" Carl said, making my Dad smile too. His smiles were genuinely contagious.

"That’s great!" Dad commented.

The family dinner is finally over, and now I can rest.

It was very tiring even if we were just eating. They made me the main dish for those heartless people – can't they get tired? Tsk.

"You should be thankful, young lady." I heard a male voice enter my room, so I turned to see who it was.

I rolled my eyes when I saw a familiar guy. Carl laid down on my bed, causing me to bounce a bit. Did he even know what he was doing?

"What are you doing? Get out of my bed!" I angrily pushed him away. I heard him laugh. Huh!

"Come on! It’s just normal!" he said, patting my head. My forehead wrinkled at those words. Is he insane?

We both lay down on the bed; we're of opposite sexes, and yet he found it normal? Is he dumb or what? That's so disrespectful, for Pete’s sake!

"Get out, I’m going to sleep," I blurted out, my eyes piercing into him.

"We can sleep together here." His eyebrows waggled while pressing his lips together.

I glared at him, giving him a reason to laugh. He held his stomach, seriously making fun of me.

My blood boiled at this guy.

"Okay! I’m going out! Good night, have a good sleep!" He beamed a smile for the last time, then got out of my sight.

Finally, I can now live in peace.

—

"It's cloudy," I remarked with a touch of disappointment. On Wednesday morning, I chose to arrive at school early, eager to unravel the contents of the mysterious paper. However, my anticipation dwindled as the sun remained concealed behind thick clouds.

Sighing, I made my way to the library to return the borrowed book. "I just want to get the book!" As I walked towards the aisle, I saw a number of students mumbling about a commotion I didn't know about.

There, I noticed a peculiar-looking guy searching amidst the gathering of students in front of him. My brows furrowed. "What happened?" I inquired of the librarian, unzipping my bag.

"He becomes quite loud when he doesn’t find what he's looking for. It's a book he left here," the librarian explained, gesturing in front of me.

Nodding, I retrieved the book from my backpack. "The title of the book is Heart’s Anatomy," he informed me. I glanced at the librarian.

"I borrowed it just yesterday," I replied as I held up the book. It wasn't particularly remarkable, so why was this boy fixated on it?

"Just give it to him, dear, so he'll quiet down." I bowed at the librarian and approached the boy.

"That was the gift that my great-great-grandmother gave to me!" the boy exclaimed, tousling his own hair. I arched an eyebrow at his statement. How could his great-great-grandmother have given it to him when that ancestor was likely no longer alive?

"Here, I’m sorry if I borrowed it without your permission," I offered unexpectedly. It struck me as silly; I didn’t even know this guy, so how could I seek his permission in the first place?

"Oh! Thank you! Thank you!" he expressed his gratitude wholeheartedly, bringing an end to the commotion.

The boy departed, and the other students, who had been gossiping about the turmoil he caused, dispersed. Despite its seemingly ordinary nature, I couldn't shake the feeling that this book held more significance than I initially thought.