The last day of sophomore year unfolded like a Shakespearean comedy, with Mrs. Shelly, our year teacher, presiding as both monarch and jester. She stood at the front of the room like a seasoned performer taking her final bow.
Mrs. Coraline Shelly is a beautiful woman in her late fifties who lives with her two cats and her elderly mother. How do I know this? Because sometimes I take care of her mum when she can't, and she pays me for it. So maybe it isn't volunteering but rather a part-time job. Her husband died when she was forty-two, and ever since, she has devoted her time to making kids' lives better. The kids at St. Peters', however, aren't particularly concerned with that. Still, sometimes I can't help but feel bad for her.
"Dear students, gather 'round for this grand finale," Ms. Shelly announced with a twinkle in her eye. "It's been a year of mischief and merriment, and I must say, you've all mastered the art of turning the mundane into the extraordinary."
Truthfully, I couldn't have been more grateful that the year was ending. We were about to not see each other for a long while, which is to say, two whole months.
Our school itself is… unexpectedly decent. It doesn't resemble the dramatic hierarchy people expect from American schools. There's no ruthless social ladder, no reigning king of popularity crushing everyone beneath him, no flock of venomous cheerleaders patrolling the halls.
Instead, it's quieter. Kinder. People mostly mind their business, and somehow acceptance exists without being loudly announced. Classrooms buzz with low conversation, lockers slam like punctuation marks between periods, and teachers try, sometimes successfully, to pretend they're not counting the days until summer too.
As the air buzzed with anticipation for summer vacation, Mrs. Shelly embarked on a delightful journey of compliments and gentle admonitions.
"Natalie, your dance performance was so divine it could rival the finest ballet. Bravo!" The class erupted in applause, acknowledging Natalie's undisputed prowess on the dance floor.
"Sarah, my organizational savior, I owe you more than a cup of coffee. Without your help, I might have simply drowned in a sea of paperwork." Sarah blushed, graciously accepting the accolades for her administrative heroics.
"And now, my dear trio of mischief-makers: Pete, Mark, and Shawn. Must you always be fashionably late, even with projects? Your tardiness has become legendary!" The room echoed with laughter as the notorious trio basked in their well-earned reputation.
Then the spotlight shifted to me, and a wave of apprehension washed over.
"Maia, the silent scholar. Your eloquence in essays is unmatched, yet you guard your words like a dragon guards its treasure. Open up, dear, and let your brilliance shine beyond the pages of your exams."
"Yes, ma'am. I will," I murmured, committing to breaking the silence that had become my trademark.
And no, I won't. I don't think I ever will have the confidence to do something about my confidence. See how that makes sense? It doesn't.
"Jesse, my dear, cease your clandestine rendezvous with empty classrooms," Mrs. Shelly continued, her tone shifting to one of stern amusement. The class erupted in laughter, for Jesse Jenkins, our resident heartthrob, had been caught using empty classrooms for purposes other than academics.
Jesse responded with a nonchalant glance and reinserted his earphones. A rebellion in itself. But who could blame him? Jesse was the enigma everyone wanted to solve, a puzzle wrapped in wealth and charm, with the looks of a god. Maybe we did check one stereotype: the rich boy everybody wanted to be with. And honestly, looking at Jesse for too long could elevate anyone's heart rate, including my own, so who am I to complain?
He was delicious. Point blank. He was relief for the eyes. He could cure all of us.
If you wanted to shut your brain off for five minutes and think of something beautiful, you could just imagine Jesse Harmon smiling, and that would immediately change the colors around the world.
But as much as his good looks could save the world, his rotten soul could also cause the apocalypse.
Yes, Jesse was a maniac.
Have you ever watched that Taiwanese show from 2004 called The Devil Beside You? Jesse is the main character without any redemption arc. Love that show. Love Mike He. Hate Jesse. Maybe love him too. I don't know. I haven't fully made up my mind.
As the class dispersed, Ms. Shelly dropped the bombshell: a seven-day camp by the picturesque Lake Noelle. A collective gasp swept through the room, and questions burst forth like confetti.
"What's the camp fee?"
"It's free if you volunteer five hours a week for two weeks." That's generous. And quite affordable.
"Will there be Wi-Fi in the wilderness?"
"Sometimes, yes."
"Is Jesse gracing us with his presence?"
"I'm afraid you're going to have to ask him that, Nikki."
The last question, posed by none other than Nikki Black, sent shockwaves through the room -- and the good kind. It's the question every girl wanted to ask, and boys, too, honestly, because if Jesse decides to show up, it's over for everyone.
Nikki, rumored to have had a tumultuous history with Jesse, was unafraid to address the elephant in the room. Go, Nikki. We want to know the answer to that too. Full support to you, girl. I must prepare in case he does decide to grace us with his presence, which basically means I need to get rid of my moustache and shave my unibrow. That's it, really. And maybe get out of my pyjamas.
And just like that, we were handed a white paper with details about the camp, the agenda, and a deadline of saturday – today being friday – to revert back to Mrs. Shelly so she can set us in the bus on monday first thing in the morning.
I think i know my answer already. And without any suspense, it's going to be…
Drum rolls…
A yes.
Because, well, what do I have to do anyway? Nothing. Haha!
The day concluded in a flurry of emotions.
With the permission slip and the flyer clutched in my hands, I found myself not torn between the comfort of solitude and the pull of adventure.
Though back then I was unaware that this quiet school and this reluctant choice were about to unravel into something unforgettable.
And boy, I was not ready for that.