After two weeks of slumber, I returned to the rigorous school schedule. Despite the winter only just beginning, I came out from my cave of a house and quit hibernation. I really wanted to stay home and sleep, but I wanted to check-in at the school. The winners of the writing competition will be announced today.
Biking in the chilly weather, I hopped off my bike at the vacant bike rack. Very few students rode bikes to school, so I didn’t have to worry about finding a spot to lock it in. Over the break, the sun began to rise a little faster, but it still hid behind the school building for me.
Once I locked up my bike, I rushed to the front office. I wanted to learn what my efforts amounted to as quickly as possible. Approaching the teacher, I presented my question, “Where can I find the results of the writing competition?”
She told me to wait, as they would announce it and put up the board later. I didn’t want to wait, but I couldn’t go against her. So, I went through the motions of the day. I got used to my classes again, and came across Itra in our English class. After that, Harry pulled me along with him to the lunch room like normal. I tuned him out for a majority of the time, but I did tune in at some points.
He only spoke nonsense, but he caught my attention when he said, “but I wasn’t expecting to meet her there, you know?”
“Huh? What?” I turned up from my food, “Who? Where?”
“I didn’t expect to run into Gentrei at the lake,” Harry repeated, “you didn’t hear me?”
“Uh, no,” I replied, “what were you doing at the lake?”
“New Year's celebration,” Harry answered, “you really weren’t listening, were you.”
“No,” I admitted, “What did you guys end up doing?”
“We hung out for a while,” Harry replied, “What did you do?”
“Oh, my sister was asleep, and my mother was at work,” I told him, “I just spent some time thinking about this new story idea.”
“That sounds like a lonely celebration,” Harry commented, “What story idea did you make?”
“Well, I had a bit of fun writing about the characters during the contest,” I explained, “and I thought I liked that kind of dynamic.”
“I didn’t read your story,” Harry informed, “what dynamic are you talking about?”
Placing my fork down, I focused on relaying how Octavia and Killean Jainus’s relationship worked. I started off with, “So, there are these orphans, Lilis, Octavia, and Killean.”
“Octavia is this new kid in the orphanage, but Killean doesn’t like her.” I slid my tray to the side and moved closer to Harry. “But they both look up to Lilis as an older sister.”
“Ooh, so they were forced to have to get used to each other?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, especially when Lilis died,” I spoiled the story, “I’m going to write about them outside of the orphanage next, I’ve already thought about how their escape would be.”
“I guess you’re going to spend a lot of time in that library with Itra then, huh?” Harry guessed, “All this time, I thought you just went home, but you’ve been secretly meeting with a girl…”
“I only didn’t tell you cause I thought you’d go and tease me about it,” I explained, “but then you went out and asked the whole school if they were Itra…”
I recalled Harry’s antics before the winter break. His embarrassing maneuver made me shrink just thinking about it.
“Well, I didn’t know who I was waiting for,” Harry tried to excuse himself, “I think that turned out well, in the end.”
Stolen story; please report.
“No it didn’t!” I complained, “I was like a laughing stock!”
“What do you mean?” Harry questioned, “No one laughed, they just looked at us weirdly.”
“That’s even worse!” I exclaimed.
“Don’t worry, I’ll try not to do anything like that again,” Harry reassured.
I expected him to do something like that again.
----------------------------------------
An uncomfortable warmth filled the library. During the winter, the heaters kicked on, instead of keeping the famous cold associated with libraries. I never liked associating heat with books, because heat always reminded me of sweat. Sweat was something you’d get after working out, and reading wasn’t a workout. I missed the comfortable cool of the library, but I had to put up with it, at least until spring.
I found my way to the nonfiction books, and entered the secluded study area. Just like before, I found Itra waiting for me, but she didn’t have her things out. Today, unlike last semester, we weren’t going to be studying. Returning from our vacation, we would be spending the day leisurely. We were going to check out the results of the writing contest.
“You’re here,” Itra noted, “are you ready to go?”
“Yeah,” I responded, “I’m pretty excited.”
“Great, let’s get going then,” Itra carried her bag and we departed.
Around the posted board, a decently large crowd blocked our view. Apparently the writing contest had a larger popularity than we thought. With so many people, I no longer felt confident in any high score we may have received. I would be lucky to even make it into the top ten stories. Goodbye scholarship award, I’ll miss you.
“Hey!” shouted a student in the crowd, “Doesn’t that say ‘Iter?’”
“Iter?” questioned another student, “do you mean the guy that became a famous author in middle school?”
“That’s right!” called another student, “It is! It says, ‘Iter Athor!’”
Iter Athor, a famous writer that debuted in middle school. Even I heard his name back then, but I didn’t expect to hear it here in high school. From what I knew, the guy moved quite some time ago. If such a person transferred into our school, a lot of gossip would probably spread around about him.
“Iter Athor?” Itra questioned, “Who’s that?”
“You don’t know him?” I replied, “He’s the guy that wrote ‘The Legacy of Reuben Carnage.’”
“Oh, I never read that.” Itra turned to the board, “I wonder where we are on the board, with a guy like that on there.”
Squeezing into the smallest of spaces in the crowd, Itra and I finally made it to the board. With a starry background, a table of three names sat on the top, with a smaller table below it in tinier print.
Reading on the right, titles were displayed. On the far left, I spotted the names, editors, and rankings. Immediately, I found Iter Athor, right on the top. The story he put in was called “Lady Arena with the Red Beard.” Based on the title, I could already tell the story was a comedy. Just reading it too, I already got invested in it. With such a competitor, I accepted my fate even more. I can’t even say goodbye to the scholarships, I never came close to meeting them.
A name that caught my eye was the second rank. With the story, “They’re Right on my Tail,” the name showed as “Harry Ballman.” Without an editor, he received the entire winnings of the second-place scholarship. I couldn’t believe it. I thought he was joking when he said he’d enter the competition all alone, but he did. Not only did Harry participate, he also surpassed everyone except Iter. Harry…was better than me. Such a fact was hard to swallow.
“Illate, look,” Itra grabbed my shoulder and pointed, “third place.”
Two names were squished on the last spot on the top rankings. Injaius and Gentrei, with their story “Wishing Upon a Star” made it to the third spot in the contest. I felt a little crushed, I didn’t think I would be the worst of the three. Well, I did have my kinks with my grammar skills, but I thought I would get somewhere with Itra’s help.
“Second place too, those are your friends,” Itra commented, “isn’t that great? They did well.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding, “they did.”
Itra was right, I should feel happy for them. Still, I felt disappointed. There was something disheartening to be beaten by people I knew that didn’t look like they put in as much work as me. I thought my writing skills made up for the things I couldn’t do, but the results of the contest made it clear that I couldn’t even keep up with the people I eat lunch with.
Keeping Itra’s advice in mind, I would describe my feelings as a heavy fog. Well, fog didn’t really have weight, but I did feel way down.
“Oh, I found us,” Itra pointed again, “Number four.”
“Number four?” I struggled to read the small print.
Sure enough, there it was, rank four, “The Jainus Orphanage.” I felt my vision immediately brighten. In the end, we actually made it into the top five, with room to spare. The time Itra and I spent wasn't worthless. Sneezing in the dusty library, biking out to meet her in the park, and even skipping out on lunch, our work paid off.
“Illate.” Itra grabbed my hand, “We did it.”
It still sucked that we didn't get a reward.