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Bobbi bristled. “That’s none of your business.”
“Come on. Satisfy our curiosity.” I smiled thinly and leaned back on a desk. “Unless you want us to tell everyone.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said, pulling out a chair. “Have either of you ever read any studies about unconscious bias?”
Erin and I exchanged glances. “No,” we said in unison.
Bobbi sighed and sat down. “Okay, so basically, some researchers from Harvard found that a lot of teachers in American high schools and colleges have an unconscious bias regarding names,” she said, crossing one leg over the other. “An essay written by someone with an Anglo-sounding surname—like Smith or Jones—will often be given higher marks than the exact same essay with a non-Anglo name attached to it. The markers don’t even realize they’re doing it. They genuinely believe they’re approaching every single essay and test paper with the exact same mindset, but they’re not. That’s why it’s called an unconscious bias.”
Erin’s eyes widened. “That really happens?”
“Yes. All the time,” Bobbi replied. “Anyway, everyone knows that CPA is incredibly competitive, so my parents wanted to do something to give me an edge over the other students. In the end, we decided that I’d enroll under my mom’s maiden name, seeing as it sounds way more Anglo than my dad’s name.”
“The school allowed that?”
Bobbi nodded. “Mom lied to the admin staff and said she was divorcing my dad soon, and she also told them that I’d decided to change my last name to her maiden name to support her. They asked to see her birth certificate to prove that Bailey was actually her old name, and then they approved my enrolment under it.”
“You did all that just to gain a sliver of an edge over some of the other students?” I asked, forehead creasing.
Another nod. “Uh-huh.”
“But you don’t even need it!” Erin said hotly. “You’re super-smart.”
“No shit,” I added. “You’re number two out of two hundred students. Two hundred and three, to be exact.”
“Yes, but who knows?” Bobbi said, arching a brow. “If I enrolled under my real surname, I might be ranked seventh or eighth instead. Or worse—I might not even be in the top ten.”
“What about all the students here who have non-Anglo-sounding names? Like Kemi Adebayo or Eric Zhang?” I said. “They aren’t hiding who they are to gain any kind of advantage. So what you’re doing is totally unfair to them.”
“Not my problem,” Bobbi replied with an indifferent shrug. “Like I said, CPA is very competitive. I’m willing to do anything to rise above the others.”
“Right.” Erin’s voice hardened. “Next question—what’s with the act you always put on? You’ve managed to convince the entire senior class that you’re the stupidest person alive. What’s the point of that?”
Bobbi’s lips curved into a quarter-smile. “When I first started here, I realized how good it was to fly under the radar. Academically-speaking, that is. Everyone knew Bobbi Kesinovic. Ditzy party girl. Cheerleader. You get the drift. But no one knew Roberta Bailey, the nerdy girl who outperforms nearly everyone. I realized I preferred it that way.” She paused for a breath and crossed her arms. “See, when people know you’re smart, they actively compete with you. Some will even target you and try to sabotage you to gain an edge for themselves. But that’s never happened to me, because no one has ever known who Roberta Bailey really is. When they see her name on the class ranking, they assume she’s just some geeky nobody they’ve never crossed paths with. It’s a big school, so it’s possible for that to happen.”
“That’s true,” I said. “But I still don’t understand how you’ve managed to get away with it for so long. Surelysomeonewondered who Roberta Bailey was at some point and started asking questions. Especially now that you’re almost top of the senior class.”
Bobbi leaned back in her chair, hands resting behind her head. “I’ve always approached my homeroom teachers at the start of every year and asked them to use my nickname and my dad’s surname whenever they do rollcall. All of them were fine with it, so people here have only ever known me as Bobbi Kesinovic, aside from the teachers in my classes who mark me as Roberta Bailey.” She paused and lifted her brows. “I understand what you’re saying, though. I always thought someone would catch me out eventually. But no one’s ever questioned anything. No one’s ever even asked me whether Bobbi is my real name or just a nickname. So I’ve managed to keep up the act all this time.”
“I see.” I narrowed my eyes. “What about RXorcist? What’s that all about?”
“My favorite movie is The Exorcist, and my name starts with R, so I thought RXorcist was a funny username. I also figured that no one would ever guess the meaning behind it,” she said. “I mean, let’s face it, everyone probably thinks my favorite movie is The Kissing Booth.”
“Right.” My jaw tightened. “So why did you create the Dirt app in the first place?”
“What can I say?” Bobbi replied, smile widening. “I found Gossip Girl wildly inspirational.”
Erin folded her arms. Her eyes were narrowed and a vein was popping out on her forehead. ““How the hell can you stand to do it?” she said. “You’ve ruined people’s lives with that app! You’ve even shit-talked a ton of your own friends on it. Don’t you ever feel bad?”
“I post whatever tips I get, no matter who they’re about. Fair’s fair.” Bobbi’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Plus, the stress from being posted about on Dirt has definitely caused a few people to do worse in exams than they would have otherwise. Another edge for me.”
“You sound like a total sociopath.”
“I’m not a sociopath. I’m just pragmatic,” Bobbi replied, lifting her chin. Her smug smile faded. “Anyway, what do you two want? I’m guessing you’re planning on exposing me to the world now that you’ve figured out who I am?”
“No.” I steeled my jaw and stood up straight. “We have other plans for you.”
“And they are…?”
