I Found Out I Was the Real Daughter Before the SAT So I Tanked It Chapter 01

I Found Out I Was the Real Daughter Before the SAT So I Tanked It Chapter 01

Before the SAT, Mom and Dad looked at Willa and me with conflicted expressions.

“Annalise, if you score high on the SAT, I’ll have a surprise for you.”

I nodded, my heart lifting. I thought they were finally going to tell me that I wasn’t their adopted daughter after all.

There had been a mix-up years ago, and only now had they realized I was their biological daughter.

But right before the exams began, I realized I had left my SAT admission ticket at home. When I rushed back to get it, I accidentally overheard Mom and Dad sighing inside.

“Honestly, I still don’t feel right about this.”

I thought they were worried about Willa’s and my exams. Then Mom’s hard, decisive voice came through.

“Willa may not be our biological daughter, but if she hadn’t pushed Annalise all these years, Annalise never would have become such an academic powerhouse.”

“Harvard is basically locked in for Annalise anyway. We’ve done right by her.”

“To keep Willa from getting hurt, even if Annalise scores high, we still won’t tell her she’s actually our biological daughter.”

Dad paused. “True. For Willa’s sake, we told Annalise she wasn’t ours. It’s been ten years. She should be used to it by now.”

Standing outside the door, I shook from head to toe.

The “Willa” they were talking about was the so-called real heiress they had brought home ten years ago. What they called motivation was years of calculated bullying at school.

Because I believed I wasn’t Mom and Dad’s real daughter, guilt had kept me swallowing every insult and every grievance.

Now I finally understood that all the pain I had endured meant less to them than the possibility of hurting their adopted daughter’s feelings.

So I gave them what they wanted. On score-release day, I got a 400 on the SAT—the lowest reportable score possible.

…

After the final College Board exam ended, I was the first one out of the testing center.

Mom and Dad stood beside the Maybach, looking pleased.

Dad’s voice was stern and calm. “Were the questions hard?”

I walked over. “They were fine.”

Mom linked her arm through his and smiled at the parents nearby. “Our Annalise is an academic powerhouse. I won’t promise she’ll be the state’s top scorer, but top ten statewide is practically guaranteed.”

Then hesitation flickered in her eyes. “By the way, Annalise, that thing I said I would tell you before the exams…”

Before she could finish, Mom spotted Willa coming out and instantly looked relieved.

Then Willa came over with red-rimmed eyes and clung to Mom’s arm. In an instant, Mom’s eyes filled with concern.

“Mom, I don’t think I did well. I’m sorry.”

Mom immediately pulled her into a hug. “Silly girl, scores aren’t everything. As long as you did your best, I’m proud of you.”

I had heard that line countless times, and it was always for her.

For me, it was always, “Scores are everything,” “Who do you think you’re letting down if you fail?” and “You’re not our biological daughter. If you don’t work hard, get out.”

I stood beside them and watched the three of them cling to one another like a perfect family of three.

I turned to get into the car, only to notice the trunk was open.

The trunk was filled with luxury gifts, bouquets, and balloons printed with “You’ve Got This, Willa!”

Students leaving the testing center covered their mouths and squealed.

“Willa, your parents love you so much!”

“The real heiress really did luck out. So what if Annalise gets into Harvard? Nobody’s giving her flowers.”

“Her parents said it themselves. Scores aren’t everything.”

I listened without looking back.

In the corner of the trunk, there was also an old skateboard shoved among the gifts.

It was the same one they had thrown into the storage room when I was eight.

Willa followed my gaze. “Annalise, do you like it?”

“The housekeeper was going to throw it away while cleaning out the storage room. I figured it was yours, so I brought it.”

Mom frowned. “Why did you bring that? It’s filthy.”

I reached in, pulled the skateboard out, and tucked it under my arm. “It’s mine. I want it.”

Mom froze for a second. Since there were people around, she couldn’t lose her temper, so she only lowered her voice and said, “Put it away when we get home. Don’t ride it everywhere.”

I didn’t answer her.

Before, I had believed I was their adopted daughter, so I treated every word Mom said like law.

After all, she fed me, clothed me, and paid for my schooling.

That support was the only card I had to play in this world.

But now, I was done playing along.

Dad called everyone into the car. “Let’s go. We’ll head home and show you the real present—a yacht. Tomorrow, the whole family is going out on the water.”

The students crowded around Willa and screamed with excitement.

I walked through the crowd, and no one stopped me.

My childhood friend, Landon Zane, appeared beside me at some point and lowered his voice. “Hey, you haven’t died of rage yet?”

I glanced at him. “I’m great. Didn’t you see Willa just got a yacht? I get the perks too.”

He scoffed. “You’re way too chill about this.”

I patted the skateboard under my arm. “Not bad, actually. I just found a treasure.”

He looked at the battered skateboard and said nothing.

When we got into the car, Willa took the window seat in the back and patted the spot beside her. “Annalise, sit here.”

I opened the front passenger door and got in instead.

In the rearview mirror, Mom looked displeased.

When we got home, I went back to my room. Mom sent me a DM.

Mom: [You should post on Instagram too. Show everyone you did well so our relatives and friends can see it.]

I scoffed inwardly.

It was always like this.

Ever since I was little, they loved showing off my grades.

Perfect scores on my middle-school placement exams, first in the district all through middle school, and then several senior-year mock SATs and statewide practice exams.

To make them happy, I learned to screenshot my report cards and post them in the family WhatsApp group myself, with the caption, [Still working hard.]

Relatives and family friends would line up beneath the post with likes and comments, praising Mr. Nolan for raising me so well.

Mom and Dad would read those comments and grin from ear to ear.

But what about gifts?

Nothing.

Willa, on the other hand, got comfort gifts every time she bombed an exam.

Necklaces, handbags, limited-edition sneakers.

After thinking it over, I opened Instagram and posted a photo of the skateboard with the caption, [Exams are over. Time to play.]