My first love

This morning at middle school, I was bored out of my mind and working on my schedule. The hall monitor started with our grade level—Monsieur Abdoulkader. He’s a short guy, always in a rush. Every two seconds, he's either stressed or over-scheduling everything. "Hey Abdoulkader! How's it going today?" It honestly felt like I was talking to one of my boys. But we actually got along great, so it was no big deal.

"I'm good, son. Today I’m getting the art students ready. But not a single student from your class signed up—how is that even possible?"

He stared right at me as if I were one of the art kids.

"Do you want to join them for the competition?"

A minute of silence passed. An idea popped into my head: once I got there, I'd get to eat good food, meet the Minister of Education, and take some cool souvenir photos. So, I agreed. Boom, just like that, the conversation was over, and it was back to class.

There's this one guy who treats me like his dad—you'd almost think he went to school just for me. He’s always glued to my side like a bodyguard. In class, his mouth literally never shuts; he talks non-stop. But hey, he’s my best friend. And this time, I couldn't wait to tell him that I was entering an art competition for the very first time.

The problem with situations like this is that you always forget one little detail: sometimes, the teacher is just sitting there, watching you.

"I've been watching you two for barely ten minutes, and you don't show an ounce of respect. You act like you own the place, don't you?"

We thought we were waiting for the teacher to come in, but what exactly were we waiting for? He was the one waiting for us.

I tried to defend myself anyway: "Monsieur!"

But he cut me off right there. My tiny bit of classroom dignity? Gone.

"Don't 'Monsieur' me! Ah, my friend, you’ve become just like your buddy. Since you become who you hang out with, you better start choosing your crowd wisely. Now get out of my classroom, you bunch of slackers."

There was nothing left to say. I grabbed my bag and walked out. For my friend, this was business as usual. If he doesn't get kicked out of one class, it’s only because he’s getting kicked out of the next one. But I wasn't going to let it ruin my day.

On my way out, I saw a hall monitor putting up a poster. I rushed over to see what it said:

"Students participating in the art competition: The contest begins this afternoon at 4:30 PM. Please be on time."

Mm-hmm, how nice. I walked out of the school building. Luckily, I didn't have a long walk ahead of me—my house is right across the street from the school. I went inside feeling good, took a shower, and waited for the time to pass in front of the TV. Because if I took a nap, time would fly by and I’d miss my chance... just trying to avoid that!