First to Win

Jules

I didn't win.
I couldn't have won. One point. I lost by one point. How? Why? I calmly walked up to Mr.Simmons desk despite the fact that I was fuming. I put on my smile that I use for everyone and my sweet voice I use when I talk to respected adults. "Excuse me? Mr.Simmons?" He snaps his head up from his desk and takes off his glasses as he rubs his temples and sighs as he says "Yes?" Oh no he's mad. Quick just say what you want and leave. "I was just wondering why I missed a point on the test. I checked over all of my answers, grammar, spacing, punctuation, dates, everything and I can't seem to find anything wrong." I quickly say in a calm voice. "I've decided I'm no longer giving full marks. The highest grade you can get is a 99 now, if you excuse me." He tries to get up but I swiftly slide in the small space between his exit and the desk. "But Mr. Simmons why? I mean it's just one point, why would you take it away?" I frantically ask. He looks at me with furrowed brows and lets out another exasperated sigh. This one was longer than the last. Shit. I made him mad. I step out of his way so he can leave as he says in a not-so-professional manner "I felt like it." As he walks out of the classroom with his laptop in hand. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Come on, Jules deep breaths like mom said. Breathe in. Breathe out. It's not working. I'm so angry. I'm so frustrated. I mean what sort of answer is that? Because he felt like it. Because he felt like it? I feel like shoving a pencil down someone's throat when they do not pronounce the R in the word library but I don't. What gives him the right? Who lets him speak this way and do such irrational things? Wait. I start laughing to myself, earning weird looks from my classmates. Mr.Simmons said I got the highest score possible. Meaning he also got a 99. I haven't lost. Not yet. I rushed over to his desk. "Anderson. What is your score?" I ask, trying to sound like I don't care when in reality this is the biggest deal to me. He looks up with his stupid smirk as he says "You tell me yours first." I furrow my brows "I asked first." He pouts as he arrogantly says "Then I guess you won't k or what I scored." He's so irritating. I want to slap that stupid pout off of his face and cut out his tongue so I don't have to hear his husky voice. Breathe I remind myself as I grit my teeth and say "99." I feel instant victory when I see his snug smile fall ever so slightly but just enough for me to notice. He sighs as he says "98." I smile brightly. Victory. Sweet, sweet victory. I look into his eyes as I say "Awe, what happened? I thought you would get a perfect score like always." I made sure to exaggerate the like always part to really rub it in that he lost and I won. I see his brow slightly twitch as he clenches his jaw. "It's just because I spelled something wrong and forgot a comma." I smile. This. This is one of the reasons why I work so hard. To see him falter under my sweet victory. Of course u do work hard for other reasons. Like getting into a good college so I can get a good job and support my family. But my mom her dream house and car so she can settle down and not work herself to death. Make enough money to get my brother the life he deserves where he can do any hobby he wants and not worry about money. Although, this sweet victory keeps me going. This feeling reminds me of why I need to work harder and win more. "Good luck next time Anderson." I say with a smug smile. He clenches his jaw and scoffs as he says "Yeah yeah Canmore. You got lucky this time. I won't let you win again." I smile to myself as I walk away hearing his words.
The bell for lunch rings screaming for the kids to run to lunch and eat. They do of course. Everyone rushes out of the classroom and runs to lunch to be first in line and first to sit. I don't. I carefully put my things back into my backpack making sure it was all in order. As I walk out of the classroom I say goodbye and thank you to my teacher, Ms. Honey. Her name suited her; her tanned honeydew skin, her long shiny brown hair, her round light brown eyes, and her perfectly sweet smile. I envy her looks. She's absolutely breathtaking and she's a good person. It's hard to find that these days. She says goodbye to me with her sweet smile and voice as I walk out of the classroom and head to the rooftop to eat my lunch. I enjoyed eating alone away from everyone's gaze and judgement. No one came up here. It was surprising but I was thankful because it meant that I had this all to myself. The fresh air hits me with the sweet scent of spring. The flowers that were planted last year but were forgotten sway with the wind. This was my comfort. My safe space. I came up here every time I needed a breather from taking an extra hard test and assuring myself that I did good like usual. I take out the squished peanut butter and jelly sandwich from my backpack and take it ihr of the ziplock bag as I take a bite and enjoy the fresh air. I then take out the ziplock bag full of vegetables and take a bite of a carrot. I finished my lunch with 5 minutes to spare like always. I throw away my trash and head to my next class. My favorite class. English. I was good at all subjects despite having to try harder in some I still always did well. English however, just came naturally to me. I enjoyed reading and writing. It was like being able to ignore all of my problems and just focus on the words and the characters in the book. Whoever I felt that my emotions were too much to handle I write them down in my journal. My journal of course is in my backpack like usual. I take it out and take off the pink strap and take out my black ballpoint pen as I jot down some of my thoughts and feelings. The main topic in my journal today and most days was that I beat him. Once in done I put my journal back into my backpack and wait for the crowd of students to crowd the halls and make it back to their designated classrooms. All of the students settle into their seats as Mr. Moon starts the lesson. Today we were assigned an essay. All of the students groaned but I was excited. I enjoyed sharing my pieces with Mr. Moon a d he always says he enjoys reading them. "Jules, may you come up to my desk please?" He says in a slightly raised voice so I can hear him. I politely smile as I get up from my desk and calmly walk to his desk. Well, I try to calmly walk to his desk and despite never doing a single bad thing in my life I still get nervous when adults call me up to their desk to talk. "Was there something wrong Mr. Moon?" I nervously ask although the nerves leave my body when he flashes a kind smile at me "No! Nothing at all! I actually have something you may be interested in." He looks through the pile of papers on his desk. They're not organized by date or have color coordinated stickers. I'm not sure how he can live like that. That's besides the point he hands me a paper and in bold letters it reads "Scholarly Writers Program" I look back up to Mr. Moon as I ask "What is this for?" He smiles at me as he says "I always enjoy your writing and I think you are very talented. In fact I can see you going very far in this work area." My heart leaps as he compliments my work. Not in a weird way but in a way that makes me feel like in actually good at something and that I have a real talent besides studying. "This is a summer program. It's about five hundred dollars to enter. You should consider it." My heart drops. Actually I think it stopped because suddenly it feels a little harder to breathe and my body feels a little heavier against the ground. Five hundred dollars? Five hundred dollars? Does he not realize how much money that is? I spare him a small smile despite my sorrowful state. "I'll think about it!" I smile one last time and slightly bow as I head back to my desk. Its wasn't a complete lie. I would be thinking about the writing program. I will fantasize about the possibility of joining and soaking in the sorrow that I will not be able to join. No matter how many shifts I pick up, dollars I make, I will never be able to join. I have too many important things that money should go to. I try to ignore the growing lump in my throat as I continue to write my essay. It's fine. Its okay. I'll be okay.