Not My Type

Chapter 3: The Star Player

I had to sit next to Jason in our economics class. He wasn’t too far away in my Spanish class, either. Roberts and Sharma were in alphabetical order, unfortunately.

But we didn’t talk much in class. He tried to copy off of my test once, so I defiantly used my binder as a blockade as he rolled his eyes and looked to the guy sitting next to him.  

The day of our homecoming football game was crazy, as usual. If there’s anything good that my school had going for itself, it was football, and Jason was one of the reasons why we were so good. We had our rally in the gym, and Jason received a large welcome from the school as the team was enthusiastically announced. (Why they won’t announce the debate team at rallies, I’ll never know. We’re intellectually athletic!)

Our Spanish teacher also happens to be the varsity football coach, so we pretty much got a second rally in class that day.

“I have an important announcement to make,” Mr. Fernandez said as we all settled down after the bell rang.

“Justin Bieber died?”

“We won the game?”

“Brian, you’re an idiot. We haven’t even played yet.”

“All right, chicos, settle down,” said Mr. Fernandez, laughing. “Our very own Jason is being scouted by several prestigious colleges, and I thought it would be nice for him to tell you about his experiences on such an important day for our football team!”

We all turned to look at Jason. He looked like he was caught extremely off-guard. “Oh, gosh,” he said, nervously looking around. “I don’t think they want to hear about that.”

“Fine, then I will tell them for you!” Mr. Fernandez eagerly looked about the room. It was moments like these that made me question my decision to take this class. “Jason has schools like Yale, Duke, and Northwestern interested in him. They really want him on their team.”

“Who learns in college?" piped Marcus Cunningham from the corner.

Mr. Fernandez looked sternly at Marcus. "He also has Division I schools like Ohio State and LSU scouting him, too." 

"Decent," Marcus joked, and we laughed. 

"We all think this is a great achievement for both Jason and our school. Of course, we also have other fantastic students who will be attending prestigious colleges as well," said Mr. Fernandez, glancing at our corner of AP kids. No one responded. Where was he going with this?

"I think it's important to realize that Roosevelt High is filled with talented students, and I'll be very sad to see you all go in June," he continued. "But don't forget to enjoy your last year. High school isn't forever, and you may look back on all of this one day and miss it. So don't stress about being accepted or rejected at your top choice. Just have fun, make new friends, reconnect with old ones..."

Mr. Fernandez continued with his sentimental spiel. Jason was playing a game on his phone, not paying attention at all. How could he ignore the praise he was receiving from Mr. Fernandez? Jason was loved by so many people and it seemed like he knew it and didn't care at all. It made me angry to see that someone who pushed people away could be receiving such great opportunities. Not to mention the fact that he only took 4 AP classes in his high school career thus far and got a 1540 on his SATs, but he was probably getting a full ride to Yale, something I couldn't even dream of getting. 

I think that was why Jason made me so angry. I even said he didn't deserve what he had. Whether or not that was true was questionable; I guess with me being so bookish I failed to realize how hard he worked at football. 

Senior year was already beyond frustrating, and Jason wasn't helping.