2 : Laughing Stock
It felt like running the whole twelve legs of the Amazing Race. I was expecting other teams to be waiting for me and applauding me when I got to the History building. I opened the door of Room H312, ready to see Phil smiling and telling me that I’ve won a million bucks.
Then the mirage faded away.
The grinning faces of the other teams turned into questioning stares and badly disguised snorts of laughter. My hair must’ve been glued to my face with sweat. But that’s good. At least the hair will shield my rapidly turning-tomato face from their view.
The professor, a balding middle-aged man with an extremely round front that’s threatening to rip his plaid shirt, gave me a forced calm smile that made him look constipated. His impatient pen tapping gave him away.
I can feel myself shrinking as I smiled apologetically and bowed my head, making a beeline for the nearest vacant chair. But as I took one step forward, the floor started to stand up.
No.
I was falling face down.
With an unceremonious thud and clattering of things, I made my first friend.
No more pretenses. Right then and there, the whole class erupted into booming laughter. Even the swelly-bellied professor couldn’t contain his glee. He jammed his fist in his mouth as an attempt silence himself, but all it did was make him look like someone choking.
I hope he explodes.
I decided that I hated him right that moment.
“Please get off me,” was my muffled request.
“I am so so sorry! Oh, let me help you up. Yeah. Right after I get up. Wait. Umf!”
I took the outstretched hand and unwillingly heaved myself up. How I wish the floor would turn to liquid and swallow me. But cruel life never passes up an opportunity to kick the crap right out of you. So there I still am, red as a beet in the face, desperately trying to regain my composure. The clumsy git that fell on me kept muttering “I’m sorry” as she followed me to the back of the class.
There goes my “good first impression”. And to think that I spent a good part of last night picking out the perfect first day outfit – intellectual but not nerdy – just to slam my face on the floor in front of forty heartless strangers. And a pig of a professor. Anger, humiliation, and dread coursed through my veins as I threw aside my backpack and slumped on my desk.
I am officially the laughing stock of History class.
Then the mirage faded away.
The grinning faces of the other teams turned into questioning stares and badly disguised snorts of laughter. My hair must’ve been glued to my face with sweat. But that’s good. At least the hair will shield my rapidly turning-tomato face from their view.
The professor, a balding middle-aged man with an extremely round front that’s threatening to rip his plaid shirt, gave me a forced calm smile that made him look constipated. His impatient pen tapping gave him away.
I can feel myself shrinking as I smiled apologetically and bowed my head, making a beeline for the nearest vacant chair. But as I took one step forward, the floor started to stand up.
No.
I was falling face down.
With an unceremonious thud and clattering of things, I made my first friend.
No more pretenses. Right then and there, the whole class erupted into booming laughter. Even the swelly-bellied professor couldn’t contain his glee. He jammed his fist in his mouth as an attempt silence himself, but all it did was make him look like someone choking.
I hope he explodes.
I decided that I hated him right that moment.
“Please get off me,” was my muffled request.
“I am so so sorry! Oh, let me help you up. Yeah. Right after I get up. Wait. Umf!”
I took the outstretched hand and unwillingly heaved myself up. How I wish the floor would turn to liquid and swallow me. But cruel life never passes up an opportunity to kick the crap right out of you. So there I still am, red as a beet in the face, desperately trying to regain my composure. The clumsy git that fell on me kept muttering “I’m sorry” as she followed me to the back of the class.
There goes my “good first impression”. And to think that I spent a good part of last night picking out the perfect first day outfit – intellectual but not nerdy – just to slam my face on the floor in front of forty heartless strangers. And a pig of a professor. Anger, humiliation, and dread coursed through my veins as I threw aside my backpack and slumped on my desk.
I am officially the laughing stock of History class.
posted by Miss Lee @ 9:48 PM
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