My Time

It was just another day at Stephen Hawking Middle School. I headed to my homeroom, feeling refreshed and ready after a good night’s rest. I hung out with my friends and talked about what happened over the weekend. Gabi says that she went on a weekend trip upstate to go skiing. Jack says he ate hotpot with his relatives from Seattle. And Aaron, unsurprisingly, just napped a lot. 

Oh, by the way, let me introduce you to our friend group. Gabi has the most angelic voice I've ever heard. If someone ever tears you down, she'll make sure to rebuild you right back up. Jack is a history nerd extraordinaire, like me! He knows everything about the good and bad times of our country. Aaron isn't that particularly fond of social interaction (he's typically tired), but he's our best flautist, and basically the therapist of our friend group.

I start heading to my first class, which is ELA with Ms. Riis. I don’t mind her; she always makes sure to support everyone when she can and makes everyone feel welcome. 

But, there’s one person–Jason. He just can't get off my back. His ego is as big as a full-size classroom and then some.

“Good morning, class; let’s get our computers out and log on.” Ms. Riis says, with her usual loud (but sincere) voice. We’re doing a narrative writing task, my favorite kind of writing. I get to imagine these worlds in my head with these characters that have a mind of their own. I simply just tell their stories on paper. 

“Would anyone like to share a part of their narrative with the class?” Ms. Riis says with endearment. I raise my hand eagerly, Jason does too. 

“Elijah, feel free to share.” I’m writing a fantasy piece. In the story, the narrator suddenly gains the ability to read minds, and discovers that everything isn't as it seems. I read aloud a short segment when the character discovers that their best friend actually hates their guts. As soon as the applause died down, I heard this loud, but forced yawn coming from right next to me. 

“Wow, that was the most boring story I’ve ever heard.” says Jason, visibly burying his head in his arms.. I know I’m not perfect, but at least I manage to be nice to anyone when I can. I usually ignore him and his antics, but this felt different. I start skimming through the paragraphs, rethinking every word I wrote.

After ELA, I immediately gravitate towards my friends, also heading to Math.

“That was special…” I say jokingly. “Did you guys think that was even mediocre?”

“Elijah, that story was literally one of the best stories I’ve heard in a long time.” Gabi says enthusiastically. “I loved how you used tension and suspense to make the narrative more interesting. I was SO mad you stopped where you did.” 

“Thanks. Jason does get to me sometimes.” I responded. 

“It’s ok," Jack says, firm and confident. “He just wishes he could write that well. You have a brilliant imagination.” 

Before we know it, we all arrive at our next class. I love Math, as there’s one right answer for everything. I also like how I can understand how you get to it. I have Ms. Lewis, just as accommodating as Ms. Riis, but funny as well. We’re doing a practice worksheet on Pythagorean theorem.

“Let’s look at problem 1C.” she says, enthusiastically. We have the base of a right triangle, which is 32 units long. Our hypotenuse is 40 units. That would mean our missing dimension is…” 

I raise my hand, and Jason does too, almost like a dog begging for a belly rub 

“Elijah?” Ms. Lewis says…

“24?” I say, correctly.

“Ugh! Why didn’t you pick me! My hand was RIGHT THERE!” Jason says, throwing a small tantrum. Ms. Lewis paid no attention and continued on to the next problem. She called on him later a few times anyway. 

Jason then started to talk to himself again, as he usually does. “Ok Jason, let’s try not to punch Elijah in the face…” 

An invisible dagger stabs me in the chest for a good few seconds. Why am I taking this so personally? I know his threats are emptier than an abandoned subway tunnel, but I shouldn’t care. 

After Math ends, I have Band, one of my favorite subjects. I love playing music, and Mr. Wood always makes things light and fun. A lot of my friends are in Band (including Aaron, of course), and playing with them makes it enjoyable. It’s also one of my few classes where Jason isn’t around. 

Next, is History. Our teacher, Ms. Jekyll, is a bit strict; but I just go with whatever she wants us to do. 

“Good afternoon, class, we’re getting new seats today.” she says, determined. I hear a loud sigh from my class. I can’t say I’m innocent, because I was seated next to Jack. We're ones to rely on each other if we need help. We both love history, so if one of us doesn’t understand something, another is sure to teach the other so that they can catch up.

Ms. Jekyll started calling people to their new seats, and I started to doze off. However, I get catapulted back into reality, as my name is called, along with Jason's.

“Bruhhhh.” Jason groaned, rolling his eyes. “Imagine sitting next to this nerd.” My heart starts pounding. That added an entire boulder of salt to the wound. I mean, everyone in my class didn’t seem to mind that I was a nerd. Heck, they even benefited from it.

As everyone settled down, we started the lesson. Our class is very keen to not just finish our work, but pass with flying colors most of the time. The lesson on the Battle of Midway flies by, until Jason stood up and started speaking to the class as if he was the president. 

“Since this is history class, I couldn’t just have done this at a better time.” Jason says, cockily. “My parents decided to name me after the strong leader of the Argonauts, Jason. He killed a lot of monsters, trying to get some piece of cloth. So, my name does have some strength to it, as does myself. I can safely say that I can save this class from the trainwreck that is this scumbag Elijah. Thank me later.”

I start to clench my fists, but I hold myself back when I realize that's exactly what he wanted. He just wanted to upset me. I know very well that there are just people in life that like to stand in your way, and Jason is very much one of them. It was still an annoyance. I never did anything to him, and, somehow, he turned me into his verbal punching bag. The bell rang, and it was lunchtime.

I hurry into the busy cafeteria, and then settle in with my friends. As I get on line for lunch, I start to zone out, only mustering up enough energy to move forward. Am I really just a people pleaser? What’s the point if I can’t please everybody. What if everyone just hates me? Before I knew it, it was my turn to grab my lunch. I grabbed the plastic tray with dumplings and vegetables, and sit with my friends.

“The heck was that?” I say, flustered. My hands start shaking uncontrollably. I start to feel a heavy weight in my throat. “He actually thinks he yields some power over us.”, I say, with a forced voice. My fists start to bend the cheap plastic tray. 

“Don't pay any attention to him.” Gabi says. 

“He just wants to fuel his larger-than-life ego.” Jack adds.

“Yeah, you're right.” Aaron declared. “I usually don't mind what Jason and his antics pull off. But, the way he pushes you around really bothers me!” I've never seen him with this much passion before. Come to think of it, he's always had an affinity for backing up his friends when they need it the most. 

“I'm on board with this.” says Jack. “And what the heck does a Greek myth from ages ago have to do with superiority? I mean, it's a cool name and all, but it's pushing it a bit.”

“It's ok.” Gabi says, studying my face. “There's a reason why we're here for each other. When a wrecking ball like him breaks one of us down, we rebuild each other from the ground up. We're here for you. Just let him do what he wants, because we have each other.”

I start to feel a weight lift off my shoulders. It feels like the sun is starting to shine again. It really doesn't matter what one person thinks. I have a bunch of people who care about me and how I feel. People who don't just aren't worth caring about.

After a filling serving of mozzarella sticks, class is back in session with Coding being next. Ms. Rydinger is one of my friend group's favorites, because she always is attentive to the environment in the class. She's also one to stand up for people. We talk to her before class about the things Jason did in the past few hours, and tell her to watch what he does.

“Welcome back from lunch! Let's log into Scratch.” she says, buzzing with excitement.

We're doing a pretty simple pong game. All it takes is a couple of steps to finish. Then, I hear bangs in and pounding of a desk. 

“AGHH!” Jason yells. “This is impossible to understand!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Ms. Rydinger says. “First of all, do you realize what you're even doing? The equipment is worth thousands of dollars and you just carelessly rage on.” Jason starts to cool down. “Secondly, why don't you ask your classmates for help? Elijah is already done.”

“Ew.” Jason remarked. His face started to redden. “Why would I ask for help from some lowlife like him?” He banged the desk once more, feeling something solid in his way. Those were the headphones.

“That's the final straw.” Ms. Rydinger, angry at Jason. “I'm writing you up for two things…damaging school property, and bullying Elijah! You know that violates the class contracts. I’m calling the dean to let her know.”

“No! It can’t be this way!” exclaimed Jason, as he was being escorted out. “You haven’t seen the last of me!” He was then brought to the dean’s office, and was later suspended for five days because of his foolish actions. 

…

After school that day, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on what happened. I keep telling myself that he’s just a bully, it just hasn’t worked. So, I just came up with one simple rule. If they don’t care about me and my time, I don’t care about them. Energy is expensive, and there’s no need to waste it on people like Jason. Plus, the people that care about me make the positives far outweigh the negatives.

Oh wait–it’s 7 o’clock in the morning. Time for another day at Stephen Hawking Middle School…