Awkwardness and Redemption In Junior High (Part 6 of 10)

I just didn’t seem to be “getting it” in a lot of my classes, but seventh grade English was probably the worst. You’d think that someone who secretly wanted to be a writer would do better in English. Well, your wrong! Even though I had written four and five page articles and stories just for fun, we had to write a one page composition each week for English class. I turned in my first one on time, but it was done with a red pen. Miss Anderson turned it back to me with a big note: “Don’t use red ink. I correct in red.” For my next composition I used a green pen. She gave it back. “Don’t use green pen!” For my next composition I used a little quill pen I had found at the store. It even came with its own ink. What color was it? Gold. I turned in my composition. The next day I got this note, written in exasperation: “Use ONLY blue or black!” I still didn’t get it. My next composition was done with a blue felt tipped pen that was very worn out. This time Miss Anderson called me to her desk. “Billy, please use a ball point pen just like everyone else is using.”
I had English fourth period. It was actually a split class, meaning that we went to fourth period for a half hour and then went to lunch period, followed by another twenty minutes of fourth period. One morning my stomach was upset. I went to Math first, then gym, second, I suffered through reading in third period, and then English. I thought I’d feel better after lunch, but I just barely ate. Kyle Hunter even offered me his chocolate milk, but I didn’t want it. To which Kyle replied, “What’s wrong, Billy? You always take my chocolate milk. Don’t you feel well?” I didn’t feel well at all, but I didn’t know that you could get out of school and have your mother come get you if you were sick. (Maybe the school officials knew teenagers all too well to explain that option.) We went back to English and I was faced with just suffering through class sitting at my desk. But Miss Anderson announced that we were going to have an in-class spelling bee. We all stood up and lined the walls of the room. We pushed all the desks into the middle of the room. I couldn’t see myself but I’ll bet I was white as a sheet. We went around the room and Miss Anderson said a word and each person in turn had to spell it. Then it was my turn. I had no idea how to spell the word that Miss Anderson said. I wasn’t trying to be theatrical, but right then, I grunted and then threw up. It went all over the tile floor. Just then the bell rang. Everyone disgustedly filed out and Miss Anderson sent me to the counseling center to call my Mom.