Dissonance | ✓

24 | To Be a Barracuda

     Yet another free period of mine, usually spent writing and slowly dozing off, had been disrupted by Miss. Crawford's annoying habit of 'dropping by to see how things are going'. There was no way for me to shut the door on her or plainly choose not to open it at all—due to the damned morals I had gained—so I always let her inside. She would attempt to make small talk, while I attempted to shut it down with one-word answers. I would then assure her that all was well and wait for the realization of her trespassing to sink in (which always took an unnecessarily long time).

     This had been happening ever since my mother paid a visit—Miss. Crawford must have taken it upon herself to nurse me while mother was not around. Although the thought was kind, she was overstepping her boundary and, frankly, being strange. That morning, I planned to let her know just how much of a bother she had become.

     I unlocked my dorm door and Miss. Crawford shoved herself in. The metal bars dangling from her ears clashed together like a set of wind chimes in a minor scale, as if to warn me of impending trouble. That time, she had skipped the small talk and dove straight into whatever was concerning her on the sheets of paper in her hands.

     "Colleen, I've been going over your file," Miss. Crawford started. I braced myself for the bad news that was to follow. "And I noticed that you haven't participated in any extracurriculars!"

     My chest deflated in disappointment. Was that what was so important that she had to barge into my room uninvited for? I was sure there were much more pressing things she could have been attending to instead of wasting both of our time with after school activities.

     Miss. Crawford continued, "so, I checked the school server for any open spaces in clubs and whatnot and I found a few options for you to choose from!"

     She then began reading off a number activities, each one more tedious than the last: ping-pong; chess team; geography club...

     "Miss. Crawford, why do I even need to do any of these?" I cut her off.

     She dropped her arms to her sides. "Because you need to be more involved in the school. Right now, you're like a visitor."

     "And so?"

     "So, every student here does something. You need to act more like a barracuda!" Noticing she was not getting through to me, Miss. Crawford added: "Your college application will be as dry as a bone if you don't have ECs and I don't know what sort of recommendation I could write for you. Plus, some of these get you out of third period on A schedule days, which is history for you."

     That was enough to get me on board.

     "Well, when you put it like that, I don't mind trying something out," I beamed with a matching bright  smile.

     "Great! Spring formal committee it is! They meet at lunch at the auditorium today."

     My smile dropped immediately after she said 'spring formal committee.' Never had I been a fan of school dances. My idea of a memorable night did not include fruit punch, dollar-store decorations, pop music and two-left-footed classmates wobbling across the room. Besides, I had had enough of formal occasions and frilly dresses every time my mother hosted gatherings at our home.

     I was about to decline the offer, right when Miss. Crawford concluded with: "I kind of already signed you up yesterday, so it's best you just go. There are consequences for not fulfilling the commitment you made to your committee, Colleen." And she walked out the door.

     The optimist in me was gushing about how spring formal committee would have been a great opportunity to meet new people and become a 'true barracuda', but the realist whacked me with the backbone I failed to use to say no. If that was going to make Miss. Crawford happy, and hopefully result in her leaving me alone, I was going to do it. I just had to constantly remind myself that I would have been missing History.