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The College Years (Chapter 10)
By Vader
THE COLLEGE YEARS
Entry I: The Beginning
Continued from Chapter 9 . . .
CHAPTER 10
“Now that class is over, I’ll hand out your test scores,” Dr. Hopkins smiled, reaching into a bin that had been placed on her desk in the Health Ed. Classroom and revealing a stack of papers. She licked her finger and thumbed through the tops of each page to make sure each was present, and then stood up, calling out the names of each person in the class, afterwards handing them their graded test.
As I waited with high anticipation for my name to be announced, my fingers tapped upon the table and my crossed legs swung back and forth. It was an impossibility for me to not be excited about my score. I had put so much time, energy, and effort into studying for that examination, and at the thought of this, a smile slowly began to form on my face. I had to have a great grade . . . I just knew I would. And then, I would have triumphed over all the obstacles I’d been dealing with my first days of school . . . I would’ve conquered them . . . and would’ve managed to get a purely great start in this class. Nothing would have given me more satisfaction at that time, because I would have accomplished something wonderful in a time of distress.
“Jack!” Dr. Hopkins shouted my name, her eyes searching for me amongst the sea of students. Once I raised my hand, everything seemed to move in slow motion. The teacher’s approach felt long and delayed, my nervousness increased, my breathing quickened, my heart seemed to beat faster. She stopped herself at my desk, reached into the pile she carried and pulled out my form, placing it down of my desk, the grade having been marked in bright, red, bold lettering . . .
An “F” wickedly glowered me in the face.
I could barely take a breath, the thumping of my heart skipped a beat, my churning stomach rushed to my throat, and shock paralyzed my body. Never before had I gotten such a low score, and the dagger was only forced further into the wound by the remembrance of how much I’d put into my studying and the fact that this was my first test of the semester. I kept assuring myself subconsciously that this was all a nightmare, and that I would wake up and find myself in bed. But I never woke up, because it was all a cold, harsh, inconceivable reality.
“With exception of one low score, the class did fantastic,” Dr. Hopkins smiled. “In fact, you had the highest grade point average on this test of all the Health classes this semester. So I commend you on your hard work. Remember to read chapters four and five, and I’ll see you next time.” Everyone around me hurriedly left, all content with their grades, but I could barely move.
“Is there a problem?” the instructor questioned after she noticed my lingering. After a moment of silence, I returned and answer.
“I got an ‘F’!” I stuttered. “Dr. Hopkins, I studied so long and hard for this test! I remembered everything! I couldn’t have gotten an ‘F’!” She scratched her chin and made a gesture for me to hand the exam to booklet to her, sniffing.
“Look at this, come here,” she commanded, turning the page on which the answer bubbles had been filled in. “You marked the ‘A’ bubble for every single answer. It’s quite obvious you didn’t even consider which answer would be correct.” At that moment it hit me, and I almost fell to the floor.
“But I didn’t do that!” I exclaimed. “I filled in different bubbles for different questions, not all ‘A’ bubbles!” The teacher, for the first time ever, became irritable.
“If you didn’t do it, who did? This is your answer sheet, and I took it directly from the pile of everyone else’s answer sheets. This is how it had been turned in!”
“But . . . that . . . is . . . not . . . possible,” I emphasized every single syllable, raising my voice and leaning forward in desperation.
“Doing that is not going to change my mind, sir,” she responded with annoyance. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson that you’ll need to try much more next time. I expect to see a higher score on Exam 2 . . . a much higher score.” At that point, she got up, and gathered her things, placing my form back down on the desk as I continued to glare at her.
“Are you just going to stand there all night, or do you intend to exit before I lock up?” she tersely remarked. Begrudgingly, I snatched my test and burst out the door, plunging into the forcefully windy outside world, pausing at the sidewalk and staring. I felt completely devoid of any shred of confidence, hope, or pride. It seemed everything was naturally turning against me, and that I was meant to fail. The noise of a low snicker blended with the sound of the gusts of wind as I slowly turned around to face its source
Scott had been waiting for me outside all along. “How does it feel, punk? How does it feel to be sure that you did great but know that you failed?” he frowned, approaching ever closer. The blustering wind howled and barked towards me, as if trying to create some dramatic affect. The cold air that beat against my face caused my eyeballs to become teary eyed.
“How did you know?” I gasped.
“It’s exactly what you think, mofo,” he pressed his face so close to mine, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. “I did it.” My natural instinct was to refuse to believe it.. “I warned you that I would get you back, and I knew you’d never expect this.”
“But . . . how?” I interrogated, still hardly able understand it all.
“The night before Dr. Hopkins graded the tests, I took out yours and changed the answers. It couldn’t have been easier, since I’m her son!” I began to subtly shake my head without realizing it. I wanted to cover my ears and convince myself that it was all a lie. “And you know what, you f**k? I have a feeling that you’re going to get an ‘F’ on all of your tests, no matter how hard you stud-”
“What can I do to just get you to leave me alone?!” I shouted, cutting him off, only to be returned with a temperamental shove to the ground.
“Nothing at all! I warned you that you would pay for screwing me over! And now you will . . . all f**king semester!” As I stared up at him, the horror in my eyes turning to hatred, and in that moment, before anything could continue, I saw the figure of Dr. Hopkins rush in between us.
“Scott, get out of here!” she demanded, a blend of surprise, anger, and sadness in her voice. “I’m not going to have you intervening with my class any more!” The struggle between him and I ended as soon as it began, with his own parent putting a stop to it. After he spit in my face as a finalization, he retreated from the area.
“I’m sorry this has happened to you,” my Health teacher apologized, offering to help me up from the ground. “I’ll arrange for you to re-take the exam . . . and I’ll make sure Scott never bothers you again. The campus police will take care of this, I assure you.”
Thunder rumbled menacingly in the distance, as wind burst into a stronger blow than before. So it seemed the situation had been solved, but after all of this, I was left as an individual that felt beaten and battered from a rude awakening.
***
In the next several days, I wandered rather aimlessly from class to class, trying to grasp the very last bit that was left of my previous, fleeting life. I remembered my old school . . . how often I spent my time with the beautiful Rachel . . . how perfect everything had been. And now, it was all gone, and I was being forced to let go of the past.
I did not belong here.
I found myself sitting in English class, the instructions of my teacher sounding hollow, as all I could dwell upon was how much I wanted to quit, how much I just wanted to give up. Out the blue, as if my thoughts had been broken purposefully so I could be uplifted, I discerned that Instructor Sim was about to play a song for the analyzation of the lyrics. While everyone else must have had an academic mind set, I did not, and when a soaring melody from the blend of acoustic guitar and classical violin arose from the speakers he’d brought with him, I couldn’t help but feel that sound was made especially for the complementing of my emotions. When the lyrics started, they struck a cord deep within my soul that enhanced my sentiment and almost evoked tears. . .
Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test and don’t ask why
It’s not a question, but a lesson learned in time
It’s something unpredictable
But in the end it’s right
I hope you had the time of your life
So take the photographs and still frames in your mind
Hanging on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while
It’s something unpredictable,
But in the end its right
I hope you had the time of your life
It was the end of an era in my life. I couldn’t cling to the yesteryear any longer. Things would never be the same. As hard as it could be for a sixteen-year old, I’d have to make it by myself through the college years.
. . . To be continued in Entry II
1/6/2003 7:33:01 PM
(Updated: 1/6/2003 7:38:15 PM)
(Updated: 1/6/2003 7:45:35 PM)
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