My Classmate Once Mocked Me For Quitting School. Years Later, She Derided My Son As A Dropout Child.

An Unexpected Confrontation

“Oh, he looks as dumb as you. I guess kids of someone who dropped out of middle school are also stupid.”

A classmate named Catherine, who for some reason always looked down on me, looked into Ryan’s face. She was a Harvard graduate. She was good-looking but had a terrible personality.

That’s what Catherine said after looking at Ryan’s face. I could tolerate being mocked myself, but it pained me when she insulted my son, Ryan. Despite my patience, I raised my voice.

“His education level doesn’t matter. Just because you went to Harvard doesn’t give you the right to speak to my son like that.”

Seeing this, Ryan said in a cold voice:

“Dad, this woman… it’s Mrs. Smith, right? Should we fire her?”

Ryan might look like he’s ten, but he’s no ordinary ten-year-old. Catherine would later come to realize this.

The Average Eighth Grader

My name is John. Probably a very average eighth grader at that time. Part of the soccer team, sometimes on the bench, sometimes not. Unlike the noticeable guys, I didn’t have a girlfriend. Yes, just an utterly average eighth grader.

I had one strength and one weakness. First, my strength was math. I wasn’t good at all subjects, but for some reason, math just clicked for me. I solved problems without much struggle, even if it was an advanced problem I saw for the first time.

I was the only one in my grade who could solve some tough problems, and I’ve been holding the top rank in math since admission. I especially loved binary numbers. It felt romantic to count in a system other than base ten; it felt like a game and was very fun.

On the other hand, my weakness—or rather, the person I couldn’t stand—was a beautiful classmate named Catherine Smith.

A Cold Classmate

From elementary school, for some reason, Catherine treated everyone else normally, but she was cold to me. We used to play together in early elementary school and even visited each other’s houses. But around her school trip in elementary school, she suddenly became distant and would only speak ill of me.

“John, don’t slack off during cleaning. Come on, take out the trash.”

It wasn’t just me who was slacking off, but Catherine would say this and toss the trash can at me.

“John, don’t just stand there. Put out the flame. You’re so useless.”

Anyone could turn off the burner during our science experiments, but Catherine would always complain to me. Moreover, she’d say things like, “I can’t touch that alcohol lamp now that John has touched it,” as if I was something dirty.

I wanted to retort, but Catherine was bold, beautiful, and one of the top-ranking girls in our class hierarchy. I could never talk back and just took her remarks. I always thought that one day I’d prove her wrong, but the only thing I had over Catherine was math. However, she was decent at math and was top of the class in overall grades.

Throughout middle school, Catherine kept targeting me, and as fate would have it, we ended up going to the same high school. So, my high school life started with the same strength and weakness.

A Sudden Tragedy

Then, during my sophomore year of high school, my life took a 180-degree turn. My father, who was the backbone of our family, passed away. He loved fishing in rivers. One morning, while going fishing, he drove the wrong way on a mountain road and plunged off a cliff, taking his car with him. He never came back.

Our family, which had been living a modest and peaceful life, was shattered. I can never forget my mother’s face when she received the call from the local police. I’ll never forget the pale face of my father when we rushed to the hospital.

After my father passed away, my mother, who had always been a stay-at-home mom, decided to work as a temp. But she couldn’t keep a job for long because the sudden loss of my father often made her ill. Just when I thought she’d been working for a while, she’d end up bedridden. She’d get better and start working again, but within about three months, she’d fall ill again.

I thought I couldn’t put her through that anymore. I decided to give up on college. I’d even drop out of high school and start working right away. I wanted to bring my mom back to being a stay-at-home mom. I made up my mind the third time she fell.

Catherine, who always criticized me, confronted me when I decided to quit high school.

“What are you thinking? Are you out of your mind? Without a high school diploma, you won’t stand a chance in society. You have just one more year of high school. Don’t quit now. Only a fool would drop out.”

Catherine strongly disapproved of my decision, but there was no changing my mind. I handed in my resignation that week and left high school by the weekend.

A New Chapter

After quitting, I first took a part-time job at a local convenience store. I’d never worked before since my high school didn’t allow part-time jobs, so every day was a new experience for me. It was tiring, but I had committed to supporting our livelihood, and there was no turning back.

As I got used to the convenience store job, I began to work part-time at a British pub in the evenings. My mother, seeing the occasional burns I came home with, would cry, worried about my erratic lifestyle. Still, not everything about the job was tough. As I continued with my part-time jobs, a new chapter began in my life.

There was a woman named Kate who worked as a server at the pub. Kate attended a renowned state university nearby, studying robotics. Kate and I started chatting a little more during the hours when there were fewer customers. Turns out robotics involves a lot of math, and I found the college lectures Kate shared with me really interesting.

Gradually, I became interested in robotics. Whenever I wasn’t scheduled at the convenience store during weekdays, I’d go to the university with Kate and secretly attend lectures. The classes were challenging with many unfamiliar theories, but I’d borrow Kate’s student ID to study in the library afterward.

Sometimes I’d wonder if I’d be attending that university if it weren’t for my father’s accident. But I found fulfillment in my busy workdays, and there was a sense of accomplishment in supporting my mom.