You think it would be cool being suspiciously similar to that one certain guy from The Matrix.
However, even Neo can’t dodge every bullet…
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, youths of all ages (but mainly ages 11-14)” our principal, Mrs. Anderson1No relation. paused for dramatic effect, “…as voted on by all the teachers at this fine learning institution, I am pleased to announce that Ocean View Junior High’s 1995 Female Student of the Year is…Melissa Yamaguchi!”2I’m too lazy to track down my yearbook to confirm her last name–but at least I didn’t call her Melissa Tamaguchi!
A moderate round of applause erupted amongst the roughly 800 teens, pre-teens, staff and teachers that filled our gym/auditorium. I for one was pretty happy for Melissa–I knew that it would have been either her or our mutual special ed classmate, Trisha P.–and they both equally deserved the honor. Or at the very least, they didn’t have science fair projects that sucked butt.
After the clapping subsided, I went back to doing what I usually did: gabbing with anybody within earshot of me as I chillaxed in the backmost row of bleachers, like the too-cool-for-school guy that I was. You know, the exact behavior that made me Enemy #1 of our Asian Mr. Clean lookalike science teacher, one Mr. Donald Sogiyoka. You remember that, right? Of course you do, because you read it right here.
I really wasn’t paying much attention to this little end-of-year awards assembly anyways. In fact, I didn’t give a flying rat’s caboose about any of it, since, in addition to having a few haters amongst the faculty, I had done gone and made a bone-headed mistake and ruined my perfect streak of Straight-As by getting a B in ----- P.E., of all classes. While these seemed like an unfortunate pair of facts on their face, I had made peace with them–nay, embraced them–once I had realized that, hah hah, jokes on ya’ll, now I couldn’t be Valedictorian, and ergo/vise vie/concordantly, I wouldn’t have to give no stupid speech at graduation. Y’all remember how that went the last time for me, all the way back in Kindergarten, right? Of course you do, because you read all about it right here.
So sure, I wasn’t going to be getting any particularly noble accolades that afternoon–but that was just the way I liked it…
“Wait, what?!?” I jerked my attention away from the random story I had dove into, back to the floor of the gym after having been so rudely interrupted by one of my friends in the row in front of me trying to high-five me.
I looked down to Mrs. Anderson with a confused look, because honestly I had no clue what was going on.
She looked directly at me with an excited smile on her face and gracefully repeated herself:
“Ocean View Junior High’s 1995 Male Student of the Year is…YOU! Come on down here and give me a hug!”
In addition to being our principal and sharing the same last name, Sharon Anderson–not to be confused with our Algebra teacher, Mary Anderson–was also my Home Room teacher that year, and we had grown quite fond of each other. So it made sense for her to be giddy to crown me with one of the highest honors a junior high could bestow, and it made sense that she would want to congratulate me with a hug (in case you were wondering).
Blushing every step of the way down, I soaked up every ounce of adulation I could get from my peers, hand shaking and high-fiving any appendage that was offered up to my ego’s alter. I know, I know–only moments earlier I was Mr. Indifferent, but hey, what can I say? It felt good to unexpectedly be anointed the Biggest Fish In A (Relatively) Big Pond.
By the time my feet hit the gym floor, there was a newfound pep in my step, and from there I basically glided across the rest of the way to give ol’ Sharon a big hug.
“Congratulations! I knew you could do it!” she whispered in my ear as we embraced.
I thanked her heartily, and in spite of my elation, I managed to withhold a cracking wise about “no relation!” lest any student thought I got where I had gotten because of faux nepotism.
I eventually found my way back up to my seat, where I now could eagerly await to hear what chumps and/or chumpettes had landed the gigs of Valedictorian and Salutatorian.
Ah, indeed, there I was, resting comfortably on my accolades, when Mrs. Anderson finally got to the real heart of the show.
“Well, gang, that wraps our awards ceremony for the ’94-’95 school year. And again, let’s give Melissa and BJ another hearty round of applause–I’m sure they’re going to give wonderful commencement speeches!”
After that I was in a bit of a daze, and I barely even remember wandering aimlessly out of the gym…except for one detail: as I passed my nemesis Mr. Sogiyoka, he clearly could tell that all the blood had drained from my face. In that moment, it became obvious that I had been outmaneuvered.
While most of the other teachers were only verbally congratulating Melissa and me on our achievements, ol’ Donny-Boy made it a point to shake my hand. With a sh*t-eating smirk on his face, he pulled me in close and whispered in my ear:
“Checkmate, mother ----- , checkmate…”
Content created on: 13/14 January 2024 (Sat/Sun)
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