Super Skilled Me

(14)

          "And it was Rene Descartes who was the most widely recognized philosopher among them all," Mr. Ramen says as I sit in class, doing everything to not fall asleep from boredom and lack of motivation. "Descartes was one of the first philosophers to use such outlooks on our world and society, and played a huge role for philosophers to come after him."

          I'm so tired from staying up late last night and chowing on popcorn with extra salt and butter. I just want to go back to bed and lay down. I do like Mr. Ramen as a teacher, but the sound of his voice is practically putting me to sleep like a lullaby. The sheet of paper in front of me is empty from taking notes. We also have another game tomorrow, but I've yet to think about it either.

          I look at the clock on the wall, desperately wishing to make time go faster. In the past, I'd be very interested in Mr. Ramen's lectures, but today I simply couldn't care less. I'm much more interested in the concept of what I'll be eating tonight. I'm thinking of making some more tacos or burritos, but I'm not sure yet. 

          Mr. Ramen is now handing out the assignment that must be completed by next class. I sigh internally, wishing I could get out of it.

          "And remember, we have another quiz coming up in a few weeks," he reminds, before we each stand and leave the class. The amount of relief I'm experiencing is rather extreme. On my way out, I see a group of people around the grassy field playing handball, along with another food truck set up on campus. I have to remind myself twice not to give in, so I quickly make my way around the garden and forget about it.

          To make matters even worse, I received a text from Coach Anton last night explaining that I won't even be a sixth man anymore. It's official—I'm a benchwarmer for the team. I went from being the third-best player in the whole country, to coming off the bench with a bunch of chumps. I can't believe it. I desperately wish he was joking, but of course, that isn't the case. All I can do is accept he no longer trusts me—as if he ever did in the past.

          I start making my way home. I'm not sure how much longer I can bullshit my parents. It's only a matter of time before they start asking serious questions. I would imagine they're already getting extremely concerned.

          Regardless, as I eventually make it home, tired and sore just from walking, I enter the house and head for the freezer. There, I indulge in some coffee ice cream, squirting Hersey's chocolate syrup on top. I then put the TV on for a minute, sitting back and relaxing as usual, before I sadly have to crack down on the paper Mr. Ramen handed out. Gosh, philosophy is so damn boring. When we first started at the beginning of the semester, I was really enjoying it, but now my marks are dropping dramatically and my interest has plummeted.

          With great effort, I make my way over to my bag and pull out the assignment. The questions revolve around our upcoming exam later in the term, but they seem so vague and boring. My pen darts in my hand, trying my best to focus on the work, but keep getting distracted by all the foods going on in my head.

          Right there, I see that my mom is trying to FaceTime, my phone ringing the same tune as always. My heart skips a beat. Why would she be calling now? It's the middle of the night in England. Regardless, I let the ringtone die out, going straight to my voicemail. I feel awful for ignoring her, but as I said, I can't let her see me like this. I cannot imagine the disappointment plastered across her face. To see all the hard work I've put in, just to throw it away and eat like an utter slob.

          Convincing myself I'll text back later, which I won't, I continue with my homework, getting ready for tomorrow's game. Well...somewhat.

          As I make my way into the bedroom, I stop for a moment and observe all the trophies I've won in the past. Plenty of MVPs...all-star team selections...player of the year awards. It brings me great sadness. Somehow, despite this life of self-sabotage I've created, I've still convinced myself I'm going to play in Germany. But is that really the truth? Or am I going to just sit there and ride the bench like I am now? How embarrassing would that be, to go across the world and not even play for your own team?

          Like I said before, I'm very concerned about my future.