Adulting

Ch. 2: High School High Part 1

If I could go back to high school and change it, I would change it. Maybe to some extent. Seriously, you think I wouldn't change anything? Ask yourself, if you could go back to high school, would you change your loser life? I'm assuming that you were one of the losers back then. If it makes you feel any better, I was that loser, nerdy kid in high school...the worst part of it is being a loser in an all-girls Catholic school. 

Never mind the Catholic part, it was the constant competition that got to me. First year was academically challenging. I was a new kid. Then you're instantly packed into the honors class. Shouldn't have taken the entrance exam too seriously. Not like I reviewed for it but still I think I shouldn't have aced it. Yeah, so...I'm assuming I aced it or else I wouldn't have been in the honors class like how my homeroom teacher first addressed us, "You are the cream of the crop." She held out her arms and made a grand gesture as if we were the elite of the whole batch. 

First year was full of adjustments for me. There were times I would throw all my notes around my room. "I don't want to do it anymore. I miss my old friends. I hate school!" As I said those words, my mother just stared at me, horrified that her little girl was shredding up papers and throwing anything I could grab. "Vivian, dear, I know school is very difficult but-" Before she could finish what she was saying, I just cried some more and threw whatever I had in my hands.

"You don't understand, you just don't." I protested, my mother left the room. Looking at the damage I have done, I didn't feel remorse. I just felt pathetic because of...grades. 

It was after first quarter when the High School department would gather us all for the quarterly academic awards. Moving into this new school I did not have any concept why anyone should be awarded in front of the school if you have good grades. 

I told myself that next quarter I'll get an award.  "Vivian..." I was still crying. "Next time you will get up on stage. It seems a bit psychotic to talk to myself like that but I had to be optimistic when the situation doesn't look optimistic. I started to pick up the torn papers on the floor and cleaned my room. The notes and papers were useless at this point. Guess I needed to start fresh. 

I walked out of my room. I saw my mom in the dining area and approached her. My eyes were still hurting, probably the next day it would be puffy and red. "Mom, I think I"m going to be ok now." I wasn't crying anymore when I said that to her. She just hugged me. I don't know if she was listening in and stood outside my room while I was having my first of would be breakdowns. 

Next quarter, I got up on stage to receive my award. It was just a printed cheesy-looking cardboard paper. I felt proud of myself. Funny to think now that a piece of paper bearing your name and grade point average ruled me throughout high school. Damn...I wonder where I'd put those awards/papers/trash? It just seemed petty now that I was crying over grades, over competition towards my former classmates when I had better things to take care of such as starting up a business. 

"Congratulations!" Rica was the first to congratulate me. "I knew you could do it." She smiled. I returned the smile. Just a simple smile, no grinning. 

Schoolwork? Check! Social life? Not my priority yet. 

Almost nearing the end of my first year, I decided to try out for the volleyball team. One of would be mistakes of my sophomore and junior years. It seemed like a good idea since I played sports when I was in grade school. Keyword here is 'Played' meaning for fun and not competitively. Why oh why did I have to pass by the school bulletin board to see the ad for the tryouts...

One afternoon, I passed by the courtyard where tryout were being held. Girls were doing some drills and others were playing and some were stretching. You could already  see the divide like who were the hopefuls and the popular ones or I would later call on as bitches. Anyway, I spotted the team coach, wearing glasses, blue jogging pants with the yellow shirt tucked in the pants. 

"Excuse me.." I  inquired. "What are the requirements to join the team?"

"Athleticism, rubber shoes, shorts or jogging pants and extra shirt. Try outs for the next wave starts tomorrow afternoon at 5:00 P.M." She summarized everything I needed to know. 

I observed the tryouts for another 10 minutes or so before going home. I'm fairly athletic so I think I could do this. I was excited for tomorrow. 

My friend, Rica, saw me leaving the courtyard. Think of joining the team?" She asked. "I mean, yeah, sure. I'll try it out tomorrow." I sounded unsure when  a while a go I was all for it. 

"Well, good luck to you then." There was a look in her eyes that seems foreboding that this whole thing might end up in tragedy. She looked at the players then back to me. Was it pity or was she worried? What is it she's not telling me? Sometimes you either go for it then have regrets of not doing something. Joining the team would be one minor regret in the entirety of my teenage life. 

Sorry, spoiler alert...yeah, I made the cut for the following year's new volleyball varsity team. 

Before the regret, the dread and the stress, the social pressures, I went home and broke the news to my parents that I made the team. "Mom! Dad! I made it!" My parents hugged me, congratulated me and were so proud of me. 

"Oh my gosh! That's so great!" My mom was on the verge of tears. "But, dear, you know school is still your priority." She reminded me of my academics. I never forgot about that. In the middle of the fourth quarter, I was confident that I had the academics locked down. Tests and learning the lessons became easy for me. Not that I'm super smart but probably learning became easier and faster for me. This was high school after all. College is on another level. 

Speaking of..this kind of attitude was a big mistake when I entered college. Arrogantly smart became my downfall...no shit, I took up Computer Engineering.