The confirmation page loaded. Thank you for your entry. Performance slot number 14. She'd done it. There was no turning back now.
The next morning, Grandma Ruth's coughing woke Jasmine before dawn. She found her grandmother sitting on the edge of her bed, struggling to catch her breath. It's nothing, Grandma insisted, waving away Jasmine's concern. Just a cold. But the coughing persisted through breakfast, and Jasmine noticed the unnatural flush on her grandmother's cheeks.
"You need to see a doctor," she insisted. "Can't miss my shift, Grandma Ruth wheezed. Bills due next week. " After much arguing, Jasmine convinced her to go to urgent care, accompanying her before school. The diagnosis, pneumonia. The doctor prescribed antibiotics and strict bed rest for at least a week.
Who's going to cover your shifts? Jasmine asked on the bus ride home, mental calculations already running. Without Grandma's income, even for a week. Don't you worry about that, Grandma Ruth said firmly, though her voice was weak. You focus on school.
I didn't sacrifice everything to get you into Oakidge just to have you distracted by adult problems. But they were Jasmine's problems, too. That night, after making sure Grandma took her medicine and was resting, she checked their bank account on the shared laptop. The balance made her stomach clench. $2437. Not enough for rent, let alone utilities and food for the month.
As if the universe was conspiring against her, an email from Oakidge Academy appeared in her inbox. Scholarship student midyear review meeting scheduled with headmaster Williams April 15th. April 15th, the day after the showcase. The email went on to explain that her academic performance and character assessment would determine her scholarship status for the following year. Jasmine stared at the screen, understanding the subtext perfectly.
This was no routine review. This was a response to her showcase entry. The next two weeks became a blur of impossible balancing acts. Jasmine woke at 4:30 a.m. To practice her taekwondo routine in the pre-dawn darkness of their small living room.
Careful not to wake her recovering grandmother. She attended classes at Oakidge, keeping her head down as Whitney's harassment intensified. Somehow, Whitney seemed to sense that something had changed, though she couldn't identify what. During lunch periods, Jasmine slipped into empty classrooms to practice, using the reflection in windows to check her form. After school, she rushed home to care for Grandma Ruth, prepare meals, and handle household chores.
Once her grandmother was asleep, she would practice again, sometimes until midnight, before finally tackling her homework to maintain her perfect GPA. Sleep became a luxury she couldn't afford. Dark circles formed under her eyes, but her movements grew sharper, more precise, as if the pressure was distilling her into her purest form. Master Park allowed her extra practice time at the Dojang on weekends, watching her routine evolve with quiet approval. "You've created something unique," he told her after a particularly intense session.