7.1
Cries and Laughters
“Yes, it’s a petition for uniforms. The girls would have to wear very short skirts and see-through blouses.”
7.
Book of Memories:
Living in a foreign country will not be easy. But everything is what you make of it, it’s all up to you. If you do not overcome one difficulty, the next one will be even harder. I hope that you do not let difficulties get in your way.
“What’s this?”
“A petition. I need fifty signatures.”
“For what?”
“I’m running for class president.”
“You’re running for president?”
“No, it’s actually a petition for free lunch.”
“Oh, why didn’t you say so?”
“Free lunch?”
“Yeah, you’re for free lunch, aren’t you?”
“Hell yeah, I’ll sign it.”
“As well you should, maintaining that figure can’t be easy on your wallet.”
“Will they really listen?”
“‘Course not. What do you think this is, a democracy?”
Thirty-eight signatures to go.
“Sign it.”
“What’s this for?”
“Some silly requirement for running for president.”
“Are you serious?”
“No, I thought I’d gather fifty signatures for fun and not run for president.”
“You know it’s due today.”
“Yeah I know, was a last-minute decision.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Twenty-seven signatures to go.
“Yeah, read it very carefully because, you know, you just might be signing your soul away to the Devil.”
“Sorry, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Already signed one for someone else.”
“What? Why do a dumb thing like that?”
“Hey, I didn’t know you were gonna run!”
“Oh sure, excuses, excuses.”
“Wait, I can get you some signatures. Guys, come over here!”
“Nice try, but they already signed it this morning.”
Nineteen to go still, time running out.
“Just sign the damn thing.”
“All right.”
“Anyone else?”
“What’s this?”
“Sign it, I’m running for president.”
“Really?”
“No, I’m just walking at this rate. Sign it!”
“OK, OK.”
“Isn’t it late? You won’t have time to campaign.”
“Who cares? Besides, you’re all voting for me, right?”
“Sure, but — ”
“See?”
Damn, still not enough.
“This what I think it is?”
“Yes, it’s a petition for uniforms. The girls would have to wear very short skirts and see-through blouses. Bras optional.”
“That’s a good idea!”
“I know, sign here.”
“Hey, what about the boys?”
“Boys can wear whatever they want.”
“But that’s not fair!”
“Well, okay, the boys will have to wear a pirate eye patch and also dress like pirates. Swords optional.”
“Awesome!”
“I know, sign, sign, sign. Quick!”
Close, but I’m not gonna make it. School’s over.
“You’re running for president?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course, I’ll sign it, but — ”
“You already signed one for someone else?”
“No, I . . . You know this is due right now.”
“Yeah, I had a late start.”
“You’re still short of fifty.”
“I know. Oh well, I tried.”
“Hold on, I can get you the rest.”
“Where?”
“You trust me?”
“Of course, but — ”
“Just wait here, I’ll be right back!”
“Steph — ”
What the hell, was crazy anyway. Even if I got the fifty on time, what was I going to do about the speech? They’ve known me less than two years, if at all. How could I convince them, what could I say? And why do I care about this stupid contest?
Forget the contest, she ran with the petition! She may not love you, but at least she cares for you. Tell her! You have to!
Sigh. All that energy for nothing. But it was worth it just to see that look on her face. Where are you, Steph? It’s already too late . . . There you are.
“Come on!”
“You got the rest?”
“Yes, let’s turn this in.”
“But it’s already — ”
“Come on!”
Can’t argue with that.
Down the hall. To the left. Down the stairs. Third office.
Closed.
All this rush for nothing.
Knocking anyway, she won’t give up. Someone be there please, not for me, for her . . .
“Why, Stephanie, how are you?”
“Fine, just turning in this petition. It’s for him.”
“Petition? Oh, for the class officers.”
Don’t look at me. I know it’s crazy; I know it’s late.
“Sorry, I can’t make an exception, the deadline was — ”
“I know, that’s what I — ”
“But his last class ran long, I waited for him. Otherwise, it’d be in on time.”
Stephanie?
“Well, it’s okay then.”
Just like that?
“Everything seems to be in order.”
Leave. Before she changes her mind.
“Don’t forget, the speech is tomorrow during the fourth period. Votes will be taken then and the results announced at the end of the day.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Diary:
High school. A huge place with over two thousand students, from ninth to twelfth grade. Freshman and sophomore classes are mostly on the west building while junior and senior classes are mostly on the east. It’s strange to take classes with upperclassmen. In advanced algebra, there’s only one freshman besides me. The rest seems to be juniors and seniors. They aren’t cruel though as I first thought, at least not all of them, and not unless you intrude in their territory as I found out when I made the mistake of visiting their library. No big deal. Just a put-down I overheard and an “accidental” bump on the shoulder as I walked down the hall. No one’s as obvious as to actually beat up a freshman. Some are even nice. In men’s choir, for example, some of the upperclassmen treat me like one of them. But most students socialize with those in their class, except when it comes to girlfriend-boyfriend relationships. For some reason, being an upperclassman seems to be a point in their favor.
I don’t really understand the social hierarchy in high school, nor do I care. Well, I don’t care as long as it doesn’t affect me, and it doesn’t seem to. There are various cliques, but they’re not as tight or obvious as movies often portray. There are people who fit in more than one clique, and there are people, like me, who don’t belong to any, not even to the “outsiders.” Still, I move freely from one to the next, no group’s ever hostile. There’s always someone in any group who’s very friendly though I’m friends with no one really. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any obvious clash among cliques. Like jocks making fun of geeks. You see that a lot in movies, but I’ve never seen anything like it in real life. Maybe I’m blind to it. Maybe this high school is an exception. Or maybe movies just have it wrong.
Classes are easy now that I don’t have to struggle with English. Straight A’s last semester, and probably the same this semester. I’d feel proud except there was no effort. I remember being proud when classes were hard, or at least seemed hard because of my bad study habits. Now that it’s easy, now that it requires no effort, it’s cheap, it means nothing. I’d just feel embarrassed if I didn’t get A’s because it’s so easy. There’s no sense of accomplishment anymore.
A serialized coming-of-age novel about a boy who must decide whether to live or die after surviving an abusive family and the death of his love: first, next.