Nov 12
fiction challenge: Glittering
Peter Gustafson's picture

Spelling woes

“Oblivious,” The judge stated at the state championship geo bee contest.

“O-b-l-i-v-i-o-u-s,” I answered.  

“Correct,” she responded. My hands were sweating, I was so nervous. Even though I was one of the best spellers in my class, I still didn’t think I would know every word. I think I was also nervous because Christy was sitting next to me. Christy is the popular girl in our school, she’s got magnificent brown eyes, and curly brown hair. She is from South America, and her mom just had a son. Everyone knows if you mess up in front of Christy Thomas, she will make your life a dejected nightmare. I’ve seen it happen before, with one girl, Eleanor Goldburg. She was put in a group with Christy for a presentation, and she messed up when they were doing their presentation. Christy was so mad that they would get a bad grade because of Eleanor, she chopped off half of Eleanor's hair when she fell asleep in math. So obviously I don’t want to mess up for our team, or Christy will do something. To me. It took me a few seconds to realize someone was shouting my name. 

“Olivia! Olivia! OLIVIA!” Christy was practically raising her voice as loud as it would go. Apparently I had zoned out. 

“Hmm, sorry what?” I asked.

“We’re going, we're finished.” She responded. Oh, I didn’t even realize everyone had left, we were the only people in the room.

“Who won?”

“Weren't you listening at all? Shelly Brook won, not us,” she answered. Bitterness in her voice.

    “Darn it, why didn’t we win? I thought we were doing way better than they were.”

    “They apparently responded faster, and they didn’t hesitate as much as you and the rest of the team did.” Classic Christy, blaming the rest of the team, but not herself. We strode into the other room, our coach Mr. D was there, and so was the rest of the team. Mr. D had just been complimented on his penguin button down shirt. Mr. Dudwell was the one who had complimented him, they looked like they could keep chatting for hours. 

    “Mr. D, you shouldn’t be chatting with the other team, it's bad luck!” Anna didn’t have any control over what she said sometimes, or that's just what I think. Or maybe she just doesn’t care about other people’s feelings. We sat down in the bean bag chairs next to our team. I had to be careful because I had a steaming cup of hot cocoa in my hand. They were giving out food too, but I wasn’t hungry. I glanced around the room at everyone, including the Shelly Brook team. There they sat, in their glittering glory, far across the room from me. It was disgusting. I simply couldn’t look at them anymore. So I got up, walked right across the room, my polished shiny shoes clicking across the fake wood floor, and left. I walked home, that was that. Maybe next year.

 
Peter Gustafson's picture
About the Author: Peter Gustafson
Peter Gustafson
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