I remember slowly raising my eyelids. My eyes half open, I heard someone whispering, “He’s awake.” Then another person saying the same thing. I remember thinking, What is going on? There was a machine to my right displaying my heart rate and other information. To my left was an IV bag hanging on a rack. Sitting on a chair to my left was my mother and standing behind her was my father. I asked in a soft voice, “What happened?”
They explained what had happened, and they asked me if I remembered the basketball game. I remembered every detail of it—even who was on my team and who was on the opposing one—everything, that is, except the accident. I stayed in the hospital for about a week, really groggy most of the time. I did more sleeping than anything else.
I woke up one day to find my room showered with cards. A few of my friends visited me to tell me how all the girls cried after it happened. And they asked if I could play in our upcoming tournament basketball game. I knew I wouldn’t be able to, no matter how much I wanted to.
After some more tests, I finally left the hospital in a wheelchair, all the while insisting I didn’t need one. But I didn’t get my way.
It was weird going to church the following Sunday and hearing my name on the sick list to be prayed for. My punishment, as I call it, was that I couldn’t run for two months and worse, couldn’t play contact sports for six months. It stunk having to be tied down like that, but I got through it.
Dr. Shinko say he fixxxed everythiiing but for ssomme eason me dont realllly belive himm.
Scott Allen, eleven
Confessions of a Four-Eyes
Assumptions allow the best in life to pass you by.
John Sales
I made it all the way to fifth grade before anyone (besides me) realized that I couldn’t see twenty feet in front of me. Our school had vision screenings every year, but somehow I had managed to fake good vision and pass the tests.
But then in the fifth grade, I got busted. It was my turn to go into the screening room, and I nervously took my seat in front of the testing machine. The nurse told me to look into the little black machine and tell her which direction the letter E’s legs were pointing. Barely able to make out the black blob of an E, I strung together a guess: “Right, left, left, up, down, up, left, right.” I looked up at her.
She squinted her eyes and studied my face for a moment. Then she said, “Could you repeat that?”
I panicked. I’d never been asked to repeat it. And I hadn’t memorized the guess I’d just made up. I was trapped. So, I peered into the machine again and made up another sequence of guesses. I glanced over at the nurse, who was leaning forward with a stern frown on her face.
“You have no idea which way they’re facing, do you?” she asked.
“Not really,” I confessed.
“Can you even see the E at all?” she asked.
“Sort of . . . no,” I admitted.
“Then why didn’t you just say so?” she demanded.
I didn’t respond. I thought the answer was obvious. Glasses in the fifth grade were a social death sentence. I assumed she knew this, but apparently it had been a very long time since she had been ten years old.
So, she sent me home with a note for my mother that said I needed to visit the optometrist because I’d failed the vision test. The trip home that day was very slow.
My mother (who wears glasses) said it would all be just fine. It wouldn’t hurt a bit, she said. But I wasn’t worried about pain—I was worried about looking like Super Geek.
The next day, my mother dragged me to the eye doctor’s office, where I flunked with flying colors. I picked out a set of frames and tried to believe my mother when she said they looked really good on me. The doctor said the glasses would be ready soon. But I wasn’t ready, and I didn’t think I ever would be.
When the glasses arrived, the eye doctor put them on my face and walked me out onto the sidewalk in front of his office. When I looked up from my shoes, I was born into a whole new world—a world filled with crisp images, bold colors and sharp detail everywhere I looked. Suddenly I noticed the beautiful outline of crimson leaves on trees. I could see the details of people’s faces long before they were standing right in front of me. I could see my mother smiling, as she watched me see the world in a whole new way.
“Glasses aren’t so bad, are they?” Mom asked.
Not bad at all, I thought to myself. On that first day, they were a miracle.
Then Monday morning came, and I had to face the kids in my classroom. And it happened, just like I feared it would. A mean kid pointed at me in the middle of math class and yelled, “Four eyes!” But at that same moment, looking through my new glasses, I could see all the way across the room that the kid who had said it had an awfully big nose.
Life has a way of balancing itself out sometimes.
Gwen Rockwood
My Most Embarrassing Moment
You grow up the day you have your first real laugh at yourself.
Ethel Barrymore
My most embarrassing moment happened when I was sitting at a table with my friends eating lunch. My chair was sticking out into the aisle and a guy tried to squeeze through without asking me to move. He got stuck for a minute but then he moved on. Everyone started laughing at me, but I had no idea why. One of my friends pointed to my head, and I reached up and felt something gooey. The guy had been eating a cheese stick and when he tried to squeeze by me it ended up all over my hair. I rushed to the bathroom and washed it off in the sink with hand soap. I didn’t hear the end of it for days afterwards. It also put me off cheese for quite a while.
Denise Ramsden, thirteen
Once when I was with my first boyfriend, we decided to go to the movies. I didn’t bring any money with me because I thought that he was paying for me. When he didn’t buy my ticket, I casually asked him to lend me five dollars. He told me that he didn’t bring any more money and he sounded annoyed. I ended up calling my mom and asking her to come and pick me up! We broke up the next week.
Marissa Hromek, thirteen
At school in science class, I was the only girl in a group of all boys working on a project. They started bugging me, trying to find out who I liked. It was really annoying and I finally screamed out, “I love Weston!!!!” Everyone in the whole class heard me! Luckily, my crush was sick at the time.
Ashley Treffert, twelve
Our new neighbors moved in during the summer, and they had a very cute son. Our families became really close and so when his grandparents invited him on a boat ride, one of his friends and my sister and I were invited too. It would be my first time out in a private boat, and it was going to be with my new crush! I got everything ready so when the day came I would be looking great in my black and green bikini. I knew he would notice me then! It was a little cold so I brought a sweatshirt along. I figured that when it got warmer I could take it off and impress him with my bikini. We were just about to leave for the lake, when I stood up and the back of my bikini broke and my top fell off! I had to borrow a suit from his mom, one that was a little old-fashioned. When we finally got to the lake to go tubing I was really embarrassed because the whole time we were there my crush and his friend were teasing me about it. It didn’t take me long to find out you can’t impress someone when you are wearing their mom’s old swimsuit! Uh, well . . . I’ll get him next time.
Whitney Allen, thirteen
I walked right into a flagpole while walking to the bus at school. I was saying good-bye to my friend and when I turned around, I hit it. Everyone was laughing at me so I started laughing, too. I guess now I should listen when someone says to watch where you’re walking.
Alyssa Calilap, thirteen
We were in gym class and we had to see how many pull-ups we could do. It was my turn, and my best friend, and our usual crowd of guy-friends, were waiting in line to go after I was done. As I did my pull-ups, my pants got slightly loose. I’m sure if my friend hadn’t pointed it out, no one would have noticed. But she said, “He
y! Nice pink, polka-dotted undies! Am I right?” I just kept my trap shut, although that didn’t keep the guys from laughing. I was utterly embarrassed.
Anne Jennings, eleven
Heart of the City. © 2003 Mark Tatulli. Dist. by UNIVERSAL PRESS SYNDICATE. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.
When we got in from recess we went to sit in a circle. I started to fool around by trying to do a backwards somersault when I heard a RIP!!! When I looked around I couldn’t see anything wrong. Then my friend tapped me on the shoulder and told me there was a big hole in the front of my jeans and I lied to him and said that I knew. I got up and went to the office. The secretary had a sweater that she wrapped around my waist to cover the hole. I had to go through the whole day from lunch to art with an extra big hole in the middle of my jeans!
Bradley McDermid, ten
My embarrassing moment is when I was at a festival with my cousin. We played a game and when we were finished we had to put it back in a closet. As it turned out, the sound system that was broadcasting the music and announcements all through the festival was in the closet. The music was on a stereo, which was being picked up by a microphone. While we were in the closet we were talking about stuff we didn’t want our parents to hear. When we came out, my mom and my cousin’s dad were coming toward us, and guess what? They were laughing! They told us that everyone at the festival heard us over the speakers. I was so embarrassed!
Emily Belcik, ten
My friend and I were sending notes to each other. She was asking me if the boy she liked was showing any “signs” of liking her as well. Since I didn’t want to hurt her feelings or anything I said yes. Just then our teacher announced a policy that she would read any notes that were being sent. Then my teacher picked up the note and read it to the whole class! When the teacher was finished, the guy she liked asked us what “signs” meant. My friend was too embarrassed to speak and I had to blurt out that she liked him. To get back at me, she told my secret crush that I liked him. We couldn’t help but wish we never existed!
Briana Euell-Pilgram, eleven
In fourth grade I wore my pants inside out and backwards and did not realize it until music class—my last class of the day.
Katie Driver, eleven
I had just put on my soccer shoes before leaving the library to go to practice.
I stepped outside and suddenly realized that I’d forgotten one of my books, so I trotted back toward the study table.
As I approached the table, my soccer shoes slipped on the hardwood floor and I felt myself starting to fall. Desperate to regain my balance, I kicked my feet out in front of me and swung my arms in windmill circles but it didn’t help. My momentum was still carrying me forward as I fell—HARD—hitting the floor about ten feet away from the table. If I’d been in other clothes it might have ended there, but my bottom was covered in very slippery nylon soccer shorts. When I hit the floor, I just kept on going. Realizing that there was nothing more I could do, I closed my eyes.
In the next instant, I heard chairs scraping and books thudding onto the floor . . . then dead silence. When I opened my eyes, I was underneath the table. I wasn’t hurt, but as I slowly climbed out from under the table, my eyes fell on a boy who had been sitting at another table. He stared wide-eyed at me, looking shocked at what he’d just witnessed. But he also looked like he was in pain from trying hard not to laugh.
I couldn’t walk away unnoticed—couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened. I did the only thing I could think to do. I faced him, took a wide bow, and sang “Taah, daah!”
He collapsed onto his books laughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. I heard myself laughing too, and instead of dying from embarrassment, in that moment I learned not to take myself so seriously. Sometimes you just have to laugh it off and move on. If all else fails, just take a bow.
Quinn Thomas
6
ON CHANGES
In a world filled with changes each and every day
I feel like I’m judged for what I do and say
I remember back to Barbies and play days in the park
When I didn’t worry about other people’s remarks.
But looking in the mirror I see to my surprise
A completely different person staring deep into my eyes
The carefree little child I saw at four and five
Has now become a preteen learning to survive.
Alexandria Robinson, twelve
Silence
You can’t turn back the clock. But you can wind it up again.
Bonnie Prudden
It hits like a tornado hits. And, just like the changes in the atmosphere that signal that there is a tornado on the way, there are signs in a home that a divorce is in the air. There is yelling, crying and arguments, but the worst is the silence. During the silence, even if you try to tell yourself it’s not true, you know in your heart that your parents are drifting apart. Then, just like a tornado . . . after it’s over you have to step back and inspect the damage.
The damage that hurt the most was not leaving my friends, school or home. The worst damage was that my parents didn’t love each other the way that they did when they were first married, had their four kids, bought a home or sent each kid to their first day of school. Now it was a different love, a love that had been forced way over the line . . . a tie of love that started thinning out at a slow pace but rapidly became more strained through the years of their tense relationship. The tie finally broke and they got a divorce.
The first few months after the divorce were hard. My relationship with my dad totally changed. Right after the divorce, the calls started . . . calls from my siblings and me to my dad. After his usual questions like, “How is school?” and “How are your friends?” came the worst question . . . “How is your mom?” There would be this terrible silence that made me run to my room after each call, to cry my heart out for hours.
My whole life had suddenly changed with one word. Divorce. It was hard to start over. It was hard on us all— my brother, my two sisters and me, but especially for my mom. She still loved Dad, not the same as before, of course, but you have to have some remainder of love for a man you spent almost twenty-three years of your life with.
My dad tried to come to see us every month, but he worked on the railroad, and vacations and time off for him were scarce. I can remember how we would get excited when he said he could come and see us, and be so disappointed when he would have to cancel if someone at his work got sick and he had to cover for them. I never told anyone . . . but I was a little glad when he had to cancel. I wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward conversations . . . and the silence.
Then my mom met someone. His name is Shawn. At times I hated him when they first started dating. I had been secretly hoping that somehow my parents could get back together again, and things would be like they were before . . . when we were happy. Shawn became the reason why that would never happen . . . and I resented him for that.
It has taken a while, but now I see that Shawn is a good man. He was the one who took in a woman with four kids and never complained. At first, my dad hated Shawn and constantly reminded us kids that he still loved our mom. But now, after three years, my dad has released his grip and moved on just like my mom did. It’s amazing, but my dad now works for my stepdad, so we get to see him more than we used to. He often eats supper with all of us. I think the silence has slowly turned into a new life for us all and we are finally happy again.
Elisabeth Copeland, thirteen
The Best Brother
in the Whole Wide World
A brother is a friend provided by nature.
Legouve Pere
In your life, a lot of people will come and go. Friends betray you, pets die and parents get divorced. But in my life, one person I’ve always remembered being there for me is my brother, Bear.
Bear was seven years old when I was born. That’s a pretty big age gap, and anyone would think that we wouldn’t be close. But
we were. When I was five years old, my parents got a divorce and we both had to deal with a hard change. My mother remarried a sergeant in the Army, so we moved to Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Even at the age of six, I was very, very upset. I cried a lot, I had a hard time fitting in at my new school, and the quarrelling between my parents had discouraged me. But Bear made me feel safe and accepted.
During that summer, we would play together: trap insects, watch Blues Clues and do all sorts of crazy, mischievous stuff that normal brothers and sisters should do. Even though my brother was fourteen and I was only going on seven, we had the best time hanging out together. But, as time went by, things started to change.
Bear began to lose interest in playing with me—or spending time with the rest of the family, for that matter—and started to do normal “teenage” things . . . hang around girls, head-bang to rock music and tack posters of girls on his walls. Oh, yeah, and he spoke to me every once in awhile. But I missed the way we used to spend time together. I found myself missing him a lot— and we were living in the same house!
The trends changed, and so did he. He started to get into rap music and wanted so much to fit in. He laughed out loud at the thought of ever watching Blues Clues with me, and he was too busy socializing to even think about making me laugh the way he used to, or trapping insects, going on expeditions or bike rides. I felt lonely again.