Memoirs of an Outstanding* Teen

Chapter 3: Do You Have to Sound So Desperate

During the remainder of the week, I discovered that I had a unique talent: the talent to mess up in ways that were unique to me and me only. I remember hearing the words, "Bring XXXX to school tomorrow" from one of the prefects. He spoke in Afrikaans, and you would think if I didn't understand what he said, I would ask somebody to translate so I would know what to bring to school the next day. But no, I thought, "Hey, you should probably quit looking clueless, and you've annoyed the girl next to you enough already. So why don't you just not bring whatever they want and make up an excuse as to why you don't have it." Only a gifted idiot wouldn't see that doing that would only make me look even more clueless the next day when I couldn't participate in any of the activities because I didn't have any of the stuff I need.

It was eggs. I needed to bring one egg to school and pretend it was my baby for the initiation activities. A two-second conversation with Ms Annoyed Face next to me could have saved me from looking at that prefect's face like clueless idiot the next day. And just after passing my desk and seeing I didn't have my egg, the prefect went on a rant about how they were "treating us very well and having to bring a simple egg to school shouldn't be too much to ask." So I had even more eyes of judgement turned towards me, all my classmates giving me looks that seemed to say, "How could you make all of us look bad?" "I wish you weren't in my class." "Weak link!"

Did I redeem myself when the prefect asked me to go give a speech in front of the class for punishment? I don't know, does reading a stupid sad poem count as redemption?

So, the previous day, I kept myself busy in the corner by scribbling "poems" in my notebook. And when the prefect said something about making a speech to the class, the idiot in me thought, "Why don't I read the poorly rhymed and grammatically incorrect poems I wrote?" And the one I chose to read had a line that said, "Just say hello, and you already have a friend." Could I have said anything more sad and desperate? After all my efforts to avoid looking like a lonely loser desperate for friends...

At least for the rest of the week, those girls didn't try to lose me when I followed them at break time. Lesson of the day: If you sound desperate enough, people will allow you to deadweight their group.