![]() Chapter 4A Chapter by diaphanousTanya had learned from her mistake.
Her mistake was thinking that boys were sweet, funny, albeit foreign, creatures
that could be related to. Now, she knew
better; all 12-year old boys were evil, and she’d sworn to hate them for all
her life. Seven months later, Tanya was smarter, much more mature. She told
herself that she’d never let a boy hurt her like that again. Everyone was getting ready for
finals, which were only a week away, and Tanya was struggling. She knew that
most of her classes would be a cakewalk, except for the ever-aggravating Math
and Japanese. She wasn’t blessed with
the Math Gene, and understanding the complex formulas and equations was like
trying to read Braille. Japanese was en entirely different issue. All students
at the school were required to take Japanese while they were there. Olympus
Middle School had a very strong Japanese influence, and the school incorporated
the culture into almost everything. Each and every morning was started with a
5-minute long meditation; the hallway floors were made with bamboo, forcing all
students to wear slippers when inside, and each year the school sponsored
exchange students from a high school in Sendai. And, at the end of each school
year the eighth graders were sent to Japan for three weeks, as a final test of
their grasp on the language. Tanya actually really liked Japanese; she just
wasn’t very good at it. So the Monday before her final, she
paid extra attention to their review. Japanese class was usually held in the
Art Room, a small room with two walls of sliding glass doors and a concrete
floor splattered with paint. A large square table dominated the small space,
and all the students sat around it on the school’s standard metal stools. The
stools were used as a teaching tactic. The lack of a backrest meant the
students would be forced to sit up straighter and be more alert. That didn’t
stop some students from getting too comfortable during lectures anyways, like
Mateo, who had somehow mastered the technique of falling asleep sitting
upright. Tanya was busy at that moment
constructing flashcards for the 50-odd Kanji characters they were expected to memorize
for the exam. Kanji characters were Tanya’s weak point. She couldn’t understand
why people needed 2 alphabets to express themselves. She thought that people
should just stick with Hiragana, which in her opinion was much easier to
remember and spell. Her teacher, Sensei, (no one called
him by his real name, he was just “Sensei” which means teacher in “Japanese”)
walked up behind her and hovered over her like a helicopter, watching her work. “No!” He exclaimed emphatically.
Tanya jumped in shock; she hadn’t realized he was there. “You wrote it in the wrong stroke
order!” He picked up the last card she’d made. “It’s not right, you have to do
it again!” He bounced on his feet and left to scare the next student. Tanya groaned. “So many cards.” She stretched
out the last word agonizingly. She raised her hand. “Sensei, how many do we
need to know again?” Sensei bounded back to her. He was
a thin, exuberant teacher of about 30, who wore Abercrombie and Fitch almost
exclusively, and had drawers full of exotic Japanese candy hidden all around
the room. “You need to know…” He paused while
he thought. “The first 30. And you need
to know how to write them, not just be able to recognize them.” He added. She crumpled up her last 20 or so
cards and threw the ball in the garbage. Mandy, who was sitting next to her,
suddenly let out a shriek. Tanya jumped and turned to her,
irritated. “What was that for?” Mandy laughed and looked at her,
smirking. “Nothing.” She stuck out her tongue. Tanya rolled her eyes. Mandy was
weird like that sometimes. She could change tones from happy to sarcastically
angry in a matter of seconds. She also sometimes laughed loudly out of nowhere,
or shrieked like a little monkey. She seemed to think it was funny, and half
the time Tanya thought she just acted weird to freak out everyone around her,
as if it was her own private joke. Sensei walked to the front of the
room, the white board behind him as he turned to speak to the class. “Pop quiz!” He yelled, jolting
everyone out of their various studying routines. They all stood up in their chairs,
knowing exactly what was going to happen next. Sensei smiled at them. “What
game do you want to play today?” Several hands shot up. Sensei
picked Sally. She grinned. “Jan Ken Pon?” Everyone held up one fist. Jan Ken
Pon was basically just roshambo but instead of saying “roshambo” as they shook
their fists, they said “Jan Ken Pon”. They were all fighting against Sensei, so
if he used scissors, everyone who’d gone paper would be out. Whoever got out in
the first round would be asked a series of questions, and if they answered
correctly, they’d be awarded a piece of candy. The last person standing was
usually awarded a new pencil or eraser with Japanese cartoons on it. Tanya dutifully played, got out in
the first round, and answered her question wrong. She sadly went back to
studying. She bit her lip in frustration. She was never going to pass Japanese.
At Olympus, there were technically no real grades. They had a grading system
with three grades: AS (Above Standards), MS (Met Standards), and BS (Below
Standards). Or as the students affectionately called it, Bull S**t. Tanya could
usually scrape by in Japanese and Math with an MS- but this semester she wasn’t
so sure. She’d done pretty badly on the last few tests in both classes. It
wasn’t her fault, Robin had taken over the seventh graders Math class, and
Robin just made her nervous. She couldn’t concentrate. Class ended, and everyone went
outside to their hooks to pack up their stuff before starting their Helping
Tasks. As Tanya walked through the Student Room"a small space that served as a
student lounge during their downtime (complete with couches and blankets)"She
bent down at her shoes cubby to take off her slippers and put her sneakers on.
She walked outside onto the patio and grabbed the wide broom tucked away next
to the garbage cans. Her task was to sweep all the leaves and garbage off the
patio. It wasn’t as bad as poor Emily’s job, a 6th grader, who had
to collect all food items from the garbage and put them into the school’s
compost bin. Tanya liked the scrape of the broom’s bristles against the wood as
she pushed it along. She breathed in the cool woodsy air, and breathed out from
her mouth, watching the exhaled carbon dioxide dance like smoke against the
gray sky. Once she was done, she grabbed her
bag from its hook and made her way to the front of the school. She walked up
the steps of the front deck and saw almost everyone already sitting, waiting
for the afternoon meeting to start. Tanya had a theory that Stanley liked to
hear himself talk, so he held them captive during morning meetings and
afternoon meetings so he could have an audience for his speeches. But afternoon
meetings were also an opportunity for student and teacher announcements. Tanya
grabbed the last seat on the only bench, which Rachael had kindly saved for
her. The rest of the students had to sit on the deck. Stanley stood in front of
them with Robin and the rest of the teachers at his sides. Three of them had
their hands behind their backs, which could only mean one thing. “They’re giving out Wa Awards
again?” Tanya asked Rachael. Rachael nodded and whispered in her
ear. “Don’t worry, you’re totally going to get one this time. I recommended you
for one. So did Rick, I think.” Rick was the Humanities teacher,
and Tanya’s favorite faculty member. He was dry and sarcastic, but had a humble
air that made him easily relatable. Tanya also knew Rick thought she was a good
student, so if there was any teacher who’d recommend her for a Wa Award, it was
Rick. The Wa Award was almost a rite of
passage at Olympus. Every student
inevitable received one, if not more, in their three years at the school. Tanya
was the only member of her class who had yet to receive one. This was well known
to be a sore spot for her, and her friends tried, almost all the time, to
recommend her. Stanley started speaking. Tanya
tried to keep her hopes down, fearing disappointment. “As you all know, the Japanese
concept of Wa, doesn’t have a direct translation into English. But it roughly
means good leadership, courage, strength, and integrity. Something that sets
someone apart from the rest, something that makes a person a true Model
Olympian. Today we would like to award those of you who have recently caught
our attention, either through us, or through you peers.” Stanley paused for
dramatic effect, and pulled the bracelet out from behind his back. Simple,
black, and made of leather, it had the word Wa on it in big white letters. “This one goes to Alexa!” He
proclaimed, beaming at her. Alexa proudly stood up and received her bracelet.
This would be her second one so far. The other two teachers went, and as
Tanya’s hope had risen, they fell dramatically in the next couple minutes. She
wasn’t chosen. Again. She didn’t understand. What was wrong with her? Why did
everyone else get one and not her? Even Wally got one last year. Did Rachael
lie? Did no one think she was good enough to get one, that she was too messed
up, too stupid, or even worse, just not acceptable to the school? “What?” Rachael gaped. “I don’t
understand.” She turned to Tanya and sympathetically put an arm around her
shoulder. “I recommended you, I swear. It’ll happen, I promise.” The cold wind blew suddenly, and
even though she was wearing two sweaters, it cut right through her. She didn’t
answer Rachael. She just wanted to leave. She didn’t want to hear anymore of
Stanley’s philosophical drivel, she didn’t want to see Alexa grinning smugly
next to the other two students who’d received bracelets, and she didn’t want to
see them take a picture all together. As soon as Stanley motioned that they
could leave, Tanya bolted. She wouldn’t be getting picked up anytime soon. Her
mom, unlike most of her classmates, worked all day, and she wouldn’t be at the
school to pick her up for another hour. Tanya walked across the spongy grass to
the side of the school that bordered the ravine. Stanley had built a wall in
front of it, to avoid students falling in and their parents filing a lawsuit.
But right in front of the wall, tucked around the side of the school, was a
large tree. The tree had just enough low hanging branches to fit Tanya and her
four friends at once. When Carrie was still around they called the tree “the
noodle” so Carrie wouldn’t know what they were talking about and try to follow
them there. Tanya grabbed onto a branch, and swung herself up, grasping another
branch with her legs. She inched upwards until she was high enough to crawl
over and sit, slightly precariously, on one of the wider branches. She just
needed a quiet moment to herself, to think. “I can’t believe I didn’t get it.”
She thought. Like any person, she wanted to know that she was accepted by her
peers and belonged somewhere. Getting a bracelet meant she was one of them, a
part of Olympus. But as each month went by, and other people continued to
receive them and she didn’t, she became more and more painfully aware of what
made her different. She wore makeup. She wore dresses and jewelry. She styled
her hair. What most of her teachers saw as an obsession with the superficial,
and an active stance against their values, was in reality a form of protection.
Tanya wasn’t vain. She was deeply insecure, especially about her body. Dressing
the way she did called attention away from her weight, and she could pretend
she looked different. But everyone only saw what they wanted to see. It’s
easier to file someone away in a specific category than to try to understand
who they really are. Tanya understood that. But that didn’t mean she liked it. She wrapped her arms around herself
and rubbed her shoulders to stay warm. She could go inside, where the other
students usually waited to get picked up. Millie, the school receptionist, was
probably making cookies. Everyone loved Millie, a pleasantly plump woman with
wild black curls, who acted as a surrogate mother for most of the students
while they were at school. But Tanya knew she wasn’t in a state to converse
with anyone yet. Better to wait here in her special tree and cool down. She had
buried her face in the folds of her jacket when she heard a twig snapping. She
looked up, to see Wally approaching her tree. She sniffed a couple times, and
narrowed her eyes into a glare. Time to put the battle armor back on. “What do you want?” She rubbed her
hands together, which were slowly going numb. “Nothing.” He muttered. “I’m just
bored. My mom’s not here yet.” He leaned against the ravine wall. “Well.” She said, annoyed that he
hadn’t understood the obvious. “Go away.” “Why?” He asked, smiling up at her.
“Do you really hate me that much?” “Yes. And you hate me. That’s the
way it is. I’m not the one who started it anyways.” She looked up at the
heavens, as if blaming them for this intrusion. “I didn’t start it. You started it.
When you slammed my head into the wall.” Tanya cringed at the memory. It had
happened last year, before she’d asked him out. They’d both been outside on the
back patio. It had been someone’s birthday, and always on someone’s birthday,
their parents bring in treats. This time they were cupcakes. Tanya and Wally
had been joking around, laughing and teasing each other with the frosting.
Tanya had scooped up a dab with her index finger, and had lunged at him,
threatening to smear it on his face. In an effort to dodge her, he slid to the
side, lost his balance, and hit his head on the wall. Tanya hadn’t pushed him;
she hadn’t even touched him. She’d apologized profusely afterwards, and he had
acknowledged that it hadn’t been her fault, that he’d merely slipped. But after
she’d asked him out, he’d gone around claiming that she was violent, and had in
fact pushed him. “I didn’t push you and you know
it.” She spat. “If you don’t leave then I will.” She started to climb down. “Hold it,” He said, raising his
hands in front of him to stop her. “No need for that, I’ll leave. I just
thought you should know something first.” “What?” She asked impatiently,
tearing off a leaf and ripping it to little bits. “Alexa was blaming you for the
whole email thing.” “Email thing?” She’d forgotten. “Yeah. The creepy anonymous
emailer, the “advice4u” account. She said you were the one sending out all
those messages.” “What??” Tanya exclaimed. “Are you
freaking kidding me?” “Nope.” He dug a little hole in the
ground with the toe of his shoe. “You don’t seriously believe her do
you?” Tanya asked desperately. No way was Alexa going to mess with her life and
get away with it. “Because I’m serious, it’s not me.” “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. I
believed her for a little while, but this person knows stuff that you couldn’t
possibly know.” He stood up straight, preparing to leave. “Just thought I’d let
you know.” “Thanks.” She said, more confused
than ever. As he walked away, she could not understand why he’d try to help
her. She shook her head, and when she realized she couldn’t feel her ears, she
hopped down and headed back inside too. She pushed open the front door, and
immediately inhaled the warm aroma of fresh chocolate chip cookies just being
pulled out of the oven. Millie came out of the school’s kitchen. “Hi Tanya. Oh you look cold! Would
you like a cookie?” She smiled at Tanya. Tanya nodded happily. She
munched on her cookie and headed to the Student Room where a couple students
already were. She sat down on one of the threadbare couches and opened up her laptop. She pretended to start working on an old writing
assignment, because there was a rumor in the school that Sensei, the person who did maintenance on their computers, could spy on them whenever they used their laptops. With her writing assignment open, She opened up a personal file she kept, where she recorded
everything, almost like a journal. She wrote only one line for that day. “One day, Alexa will wish she hadn’t
fucked with my life.” © 2012 diaphanousReviews
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1 Review Added on July 24, 2012 Last Updated on July 24, 2012 Tags: adolescent, school, friends, teachers, class, homework, frustration, hormones Author![]() diaphanousSan Francisco, CAAboutMy name is Talia. I've always loved writing, and writing is my greatest passion. My greatest fear and motivation is that in reality, it shouldn't be. more..Writing
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