Misfit Theater Company (Wattys Winner 2018)

37. All Time High

First period math today, the Monday after sneaking away from Mr. Buford's class in the auditorium, seemed to go on forever. Layla refused to even look at me, but that's alright with me. She was only ever fake nice to me to get what she wanted, which she did. I just got something better than what she thought was possible. Ha ha, sucks to be a bully.

    With about fifteen minutes left in the class, Mr. Buford got a phone call, looked directly at me and said, "I bet this is for you... again."

    Jerk. No need to be salty.

    "Mr. Buford," he answered. Then his eyes darted back to me and sort of lit up in a weird combination of frustration and victory. "Yes, she is. I will send her."

    I didn't even wait until he hung up the phone before I stood up and hurried out of the that den of bitterness. I didn't even know exactly where I was going, though I could have only assumed I was being called the place I always am: the office. And I was right, because when I arrived, Mrs. Thomas was standing in her doorway waiting for me.

    "You got here quickly," she said with a little smile. "Ready to talk about next quarter?"

    "Oh, is that what this visit is about?" I asked. "I thought maybe I was in trouble for something again."

    Mrs. Thomas chuckled. "No, not this time. Come on in."

    I went into her office and took the same seat I sat in nine weeks earlier when she was suggesting I switch into theater and I thought that was the worst possible thing to ever happen to me. It's so funny to think back on all of that now knowing what I do: that that class change was the best thing that's ever happened to me.

    She handed me a thick piece of paper with our school's seal on it. It was my third marking period report card, and I gulped before reading over it. I had been in such a depression and then such a focused routine that I didn't bother checking my grades for the past two weeks as the quarter wrapped up.

    "Take a look at your grades," she told me as I took the paper. And there they were:

     English 10: 84% B

Geometry: 77% C

Western Civilization: 81% B

Biology: 80% B

Spanish: 78% C

Theater 4: 100% A

Sewing: 95% A

"You'll notice," she pointed out before I barely had any time to process the grades in front of me, "that sewing and theater are included on this report card. That's because both teachers insisted on giving you grades for the work you did with them. But what I'd really like you to notice is the increase in your percentages in every single one of your classes. In English, your grade went up nearly 20 points. That's some incredible work, Janie."

"Thank you," I said, though I knew I would have to thank Thatcher for a lot of that later too.

"What would you say the change was this marking period?"

I smiled. "There wasn't one change, there were a bunch. I got rid of toxic people in my life and found people who support me instead. I learned to speak up for myself, and I found something I was good at and someone who helped me be better every day. Knowing that I was dyslexic and that it wasn't a big deal was huge too. You know, you think because you have this diagnosis, it's going to be this big part of who you are, but it's just one little piece. It's just something that means you need to approach things differently, and honestly, it's going to be better. Having a different perspective makes you interesting, like all the friends I've made. And when a bunch of different people, a bunch of misfits, come together, they aren't really misfits anymore. They fit together. They fit in with each other."