I pick up my test paper and read it. Eyes locked on the huge pink mark on the top right of the paper. “96” right there in big pink pen ink. Beautiful, I thought to myself, as a grin formed on my face. I put my paper down on my desk, turn to the right, and go through my bag. Grey binder, no… Perfume, no… Pencil case, no… Folder, YES! I pull out my folder and stare at it. A regular black folder that I got for $1 at Target. “Calculus Term 1” in a bold white sharpie marking on the folder. I put the folder on the desk and open it up. “92s, 95s, 98s, 100s” pop up in my face as I insert my test paper into the folder with my other 90+ assignments.

I would not say that I love math or even like it… I was just always good at it. At least that is what people told me. “Wow, you are so good in math.” “I wish I was good in math like you.” “I have never seen such great grades from anyone in math before.” So good that people think I should become a mathematician or an engineer. But my career path has nothing math-related. I turn to my left and look at my friend. He looks stressed but that is nothing new. He stares at his test score, “64” in big pink pen ink. He lets out a sigh and looks up at me. “I was ONE point off from passing,” he mumbles while agitated. I pat him on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you will do better next time,” I say to him while giving him a reassuring smile. “No, it’s not, he says back while shaking his head. I need to pass this class since I want to become an Engineer. You know that. I don’t even know what you want to be, because you don’t tell anyone. You always gate-keep your career from everyone. Why don’t you tell anyone?” I laugh to avoid the question. One of the questions I get asked by everyone on a daily basis. “What do you want to be?” “Why don’t you tell anyone what you want to be?” As I think about these questions, it stings. “You will find out one day,” I say to him. The bell rings. I quickly pack my stuff, grab my bag, and speed walk to the door. I look back, “Bye Numen,” I say while waving. “Bye Mckenzie,” he says as he proceeds to pack up. I turn around and walk out the door, my smile fades. His words run through my head like a track star. “I don’t even know what you want to be because you don’t tell anyone. You always gate-keep your career from everyone. Why don’t you tell anyone?” I frown. If only he knew, why I couldn’t tell anyone. If only he knew, why I had to keep it a secret.