Friends

PART THIRTEEN: BACKLASH

January 23, 1998, Friday

As the night established a youthful memory, the day had passed through ordinarily for us, humans. Silent as I would call my home, to be deranged by these walls isn't the best place to be called out on. Laying in the bed, which includes soft fabric material, initiates me to endlessly read and evaluate my poem before passing the undue draft. The day isn't fast, a bath is needed.

I headed inside, hoping for the best as I used to resent every neglected past. It was truly devastating to bear as I poured out body and soul to adventurous poetry. Who knows, they might not figure out the direction of the poem. No one ever does, that's why I let myself roam around freely and judge every word that was said. Only the writer could establish a meaningful and soulful story. I don't know—the water starts to pour all over my head. It's warm, not lukewarm nor fire-warm but a gruesome feeling as it drops beneath my skin. One minute, I kept turning my head around to see no one inside my room. There was no one.

Here I am, as I transitioned to the clouds. I decided to pass Adventure as my work in the contest. "Charlie, you're in a good mood," Chase said as I entered the back of the class. He turned his head at my side and I replied, "Is it obvious? I just got back from the faculty room—well, I had to finish the poem as you already know, the one that I joined."

"That's great to hear, isn't it? Best of luck to you, keeping score on that poem of yours," he starts to widen his cheeks. "What's the title of this poem of yours?"

Curiosity, as it seems. "Adventure."

The bell suddenly rang, and Mr. Watts came into the room. "Sit down, class. As important as I'm about to tell you. Hey, Charlie. So, the top three of the poetry contest will be selected by the faculty. Those designated top three will be doing a reading at our next flag ceremony. Give it up for Charlie, will you?" I became the topic of Mr. Watts's class, it made my day memorable for a while. "This is only for Charlie though, since he's one of those students who was willing to try. The prize is a cash prize of 10 dollars for the third place, and eventually, add five more to the remaining two spots," everyone started applauding when Mr. Watts showcased an envelope that had the words first-second-third-place on it. "Do the math, I'm too old enough for that."

***

January 26, 1998, Monday

We are dismissed after a long time thinking of the winners. Tomorrow is the day, the top three will read their poems in front of the whole level. Not just one, but a lot of them. Crowded the gymnasium—picturing a whole bleachers for a basketball match is how I see myself in that middle spot of the court. Mr. Watts had one last final reminder, "Don't forget to check the winners, Charlie. They have just posted the list."

"Thank you, sir. I will keep an eye on that first place," I said, being excited for what's to come. No one knows who won, neither do I which is a surprise. All I can hear in the background is Mr. Watts's fading voice saying, "Congratulations."

I found the posted papers while Jade and the others waited for me at the door. The speaker began to announce the winner as I placed my sight from lowest to highest. "Third place goes to Emmett, a wonderful poem that's titled The Underwater when it's nowhere near about the underwater." My name wasn't in the bottom ones, maybe in the middle.

"Second place goes to—," I covered my ears as the speakers malfunctioned. My name isn't in the middle ranks, perhaps the top ranks. "Second place goes to Ben, a remarkable poem with the title Love Me Like The Wind Does. Pretty name, huh? Aren't I right, Ryan?"

"Stop, I'll announce the winner of the contest who'll be earning a cash prize of 20 dollars. Congratulations to—" My eyes started to widen as I saw who was at the top. "Charlie, congratulations Charlie Rode for writing not one of the best but the most heartfelt poems the judges ever read. It is titled Adventure, unlike the adventure Stu has."

"What a backlash, dude. Congratulations to the winners as we—hey," Stu exclaimed into the microphone. I won as I heard a familiar voice in the speakers that was being broadcast to the whole campus. "Rode, you did it. You did it, congratulations. Okay, here's the mic," I heard arguments but that was a great moment, having to hear Wayne congratulating me in the speakers.