You Call This a Gift?

I clutched my bag as I made my way down the hall to my locker. Teens ran past chasing each other and being childish. I opened my locker reaching for my science book as I felt someone grab me in a hug from behind shouting “happy birthday” in my ears. I swung around dropping my books. “Jeez, Makenna, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” I grumbled.

“Sorry, it seems like birthday girl is in a mood today.” She giggled.

I replied, “I slept horribly, and had nightmares that wouldn’t just go away.”

“I’m sorry, you’re my best friend and I love you and just wanted to surprise you with a ‘happy birthday’,” she said sadly.

I told her it was fine. I glanced at Kenna, jealous of her pin straight blonde hair and perfect Disney blue eyes. She was in a spring colored floral dress, white flats, pink lipstick, and had her hair part up, part down. “Aren’t you cold, Kenna, it’s only March?” I asked her.

“It’s never too cold for a cute dress.” She giggled. Kenna was rambling about something when I noticed Davis Pruitt walking down the hall. I have had a crush on Davis since second grade when he shared his cookie with me. We had been best friends from then until we got to high school where he ran off with all the popular kids and forgot I ever existed. To this day, I still had the biggest crush on him, and when I saw him coming down the hall, everything turned slow motion and I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. I watched as he casually opened his locker and grabbed some of his books. He turned, and his beautiful brown hair swept to the side, his perfectly chocolate eyes stared into mine for a split second and I felt my heart stop. I watched him walk away in awe. I heard Kenna repeating “hello, are you listening to me?!” over and over.

As soon as Davis moved out of site, I shook my head and looked back at Kenna replying, “Yes, I heard you, something about your mom buying you a new bag.”

“No,” she replied, “I said my mom won’t let me come over tonight; gosh, would it kill you to listen to me?”

“I am listening, I promise,” I half-heartedly said.

I made my way through most of my classes, with only English and art left. I walked through my English class noticing my seat in the back had been filled with Fredrick Parkinson. Fred was Kenna’s boyfriend last year, but she found him making out with another girl named Susan Fields on the tennis court. She cried for weeks over him. I personally always despised Fred from the beginning. I had seen him go through girl after girl. Kenna ignored my advice and got in a relationship with him anyway. He had stayed with her longer than most of the previous girls. Just when I thought maybe he had changed, I found Kenna in the bathroom sobbing over him.

I darted him a look of extreme hatred and watched him sink lower in his seat. I looked around and found the only available seat directly in the front of the room. I sighed ever so dramatically and weaved over to the open chair. We were reading “Of Mice and Men,” which was one of my favorites. English was my favorite class, and Mrs. Humai was, in my opinion, the best teacher I have ever had. She spoke to anyone in need with the utmost respect and kindness regardless of who they were. Her big green eyes were just filled with wisdom, kindness, love, courage, and hope. She could cheer you up on the worst day. She’s a fabulous teacher.

I am a big Literature nerd. Reading is quite possibly my biggest passion. Escaping this world and entering a world of drama, passion, romance, mystery, fantasy, and happy endings. What could possibly be better? Some days I wished my life was a book.

After a while, Mrs. Humai called out, “So how did Lenny die in our chapter readings last night?” My hand swung straight up into the air, as everyone laughed and called out “nerd.” I sighed and said, “Lenny was brought into the woods by his brother who felt it was his job to help him by taking him out of this world peacefully so he wouldn’t have to suffer under the hands of angry people who didn’t understand Lenny’s struggles.”

Mrs. Humai’s eyes widened and she looked deeply into mine replying, “Good answer, Anna; very deep contemplation.” I slid down lower into my seat as everyone looked upon me with judgment. We continued discussing and analyzing the story, and I continued answering questions and feeling ashamed until the bell rang. Everyone took off running out of the class; I almost got knocked over a few times. I had almost made it out the door when Mrs. Humai summoned me over to her desk.

Mrs. Humai began by handing me a list of my current grades. I peered down at the solid row of 100%s. I looked up with confusion asking, “Am I in trouble for something, Mrs. H?”

“No, no, no! of course not! Quite the opposite, actually,” she said excitedly. She followed with, “Anna, I am very proud of you. You are one of my best students. The school is requesting that I transfer you to honors English with Mrs. Pence. I was just looking to get your opinion.”

I began picking at my nails while picturing being in a class without Mrs. Humai. I would hate that! Losing the only teacher I appreciated. I quickly asked, “Must I go? Or do I have a choice in this?”

Mrs. Humai replied, “Anna darling, of course, you have a choice in this, and that is why I’m asking you. You do not have to transfer over, but by the looks of your grades and your current standing in this class, I cannot help but think I’m not offering you enough here. Maybe you would do better in an advanced class. I feel as if you’re not learning anything here with me; you’ve already mastered my class. I am just considering that maybe, just maybe, if you were given more of a challenge, your mind would be opened to so many more learning opportunities.”

I scrunched my face at what she had just said. Does she really think I’m not learning here? I love her literature choices, and the discussions we have. What if the other class is too hard and my grades start to drop? “Mrs. H, can I please have some time to think this over before I come to an appropriate answer?” I asked her politely.

“Of course, you may. They just need your decision by Friday the 14th. I apologize for the short amount of time they have presented you with,” she replied. We finished our discussion and I made my way back to my locker to put away my things.

I sat in art class running my fingers through the clay that we were supposed to be sculpting into our view of the human body. All I could think about was if I should transfer to advanced English or not. I found my project to be looking more of a snowman than a human. Mrs. Adams shot me a look of authority in an attempt to get me to focus. I looked down at the blobs of clay beneath my hands and started transforming it into a body. By the end of class, I was left with a decent body, until I realized I had given her no head. I looked it over and decided I would go with, “My view of the human body is the body itself not including the mind/head for sometimes our mind distracts our hands from truly creating a beautiful work.” I nodded in approval of my decision deciding that would be good enough.

I met Kenna outside the school and thanked her for the earlier birthday wishes and gave her a hug. She stretched her arms out to reveal the box she had lying in her hands. “Happy birthday, love!” she exclaimed once more and then proceeded to run off to her bus before saying another word.

I looked down at the rectangular shaped box I had been given. It had been wrapped beautifully with the most gorgeous golden wrapping paper and a perfectly tied blue ribbon. From the ribbon hung a note revealing the words, “Happy birthday, Anna! Do not under any circumstances open this until you have truly discovered yourself. If you don’t understand what that means, you are not ready to open it yet. Please wait! Love, your best friend - Kenna.”

“What?” I asked myself shaking my head in confusion. I looked around and saw that Kenna’s bus had left. I held the gift in my hands wondering what on earth could be in here that was so secretive. I convinced myself to follow her request and wait, however long that might take.