Just Jake #1

by Jake Marcionette

  Arriving in the drop-off circle at school, I felt like I was walking onstage at the MTV Movie Awards. It was GO TIME. Styling my best COOL-guy strut, I took my first giant step into the unknown.

  WHAT . . . THE . . .? Had I just landed on another planet? The first thing I saw was a group of kids, BOYS specifically, and ALL of them were proudly wearing SKINNY JEANS?! Oookay?

  Only because I have a fashion-conscious sister was I already familiar with these so-called “jeans.” They’re more like sprayed-on denim. Who knew how they got those suckers on? But, more importantly, WHY!!?? Why were a bunch of dudes wearing those ridiculous pants?

  Where are all the khakis, pastels, or crisp white oxfords I used to see in sunny Florida? Sure, the occasional skater dude would rock baggy board shorts and a flowing white T, but those clinging skintight jeans were CRAZY!

  I don’t know about you, but for me, I’m a comfort-fit clothes type of guy. Big RLX sweatpants and a Marmot pullover do the job nicely. MAYBE a pair of baggy jeans once in a while—but not TOO baggy.

  When it comes to school wardrobe, the ability to remove clothing quickly is critical. In case of a fire, I want to know I can shed the unnecessary gear, stop, drop, and roll. This rule immediately eliminates tight-fitting jeans, all types of sweaters, and, of course, ASCOTS.

  As you can imagine, I didn’t see myself hanging out with those skinny-jean-wearing emo wannabes. HOWEVER, guess who’s first up in my new Kid Card collection?

  “From Kinney Elementary, it gives me great pleasure to introduce . . . Skinny Kinney Kid!”

  As I moved swiftly past that bunch of freaks, I finally saw someone with potential. He looked confident, carried himself with a fair amount of swagger, and was certainly not a follower. But I wasn’t sure about the head-to-toe camouflage outfit. Scary! I thought I missed Halloween.

  Note to self: Always pick Camouflage Kid for hide-and-seek—he’ll be impossible to find!

  Throwing open the front doors to Kinney Elementary, I OOZED confidence. It was going to be a cakewalk. Drumroll, please . . . Heeeeerree’s Jake!

  Mom had told me to go DIRECTLY to the front office. Easy enough, I thought. Zigzagging through a sea of kids, I made it to a room filled with confusion and utter chaos. Everyone was running around, panic-faced teachers were clutching stacks of books, and loads of parents were shouting questions to anyone who would listen. Not so easy after all. Suddenly, I was flooded with fear and anxiety. Who’s in charge here?

  Stepping toward the front desk, I sheepishly asked for Mrs. Leaf, just like my mom had instructed. The guy with the phone to his ear barely acknowledged my presence. He looked at me sharply, turned, and walked off without saying a word. Wow, welcome to RUDE ELEMENTARY! I was glad my mom hadn’t walked me in. However, at that point, I could have used her help.

  Mrs. Leaf suddenly appeared. Again, no Welcome or Nice to meet you, young man. Just a quick Hi, Jake, and a slip of paper thrust into my hand. It simply said:

  NEW STUDENT: Jake Mathews

  TEACHER: Mrs. Williams

  She guided me out into the fast-moving flow of arriving students and pointed down the hall to the left. With a slight nudge, I was off to find Mrs. Williams’s class.

  Kind of like a mouse in a maze, searching for a piece of cheese. I started to think about the possibility of failing that test. Wow, there were a lot of kids, and the halls were even more chaotic than the office.

  Luckily, my safety-patrol training kicked in, and I was off like a rocket, dodging and weaving through the masses. I avoided swinging locker doors, bent-over shoe-tiers, scattered books, and slow-moving groups of gossiping girls. Guided by this sixth sense, I effortlessly made it to my classroom like some sort of hallway ninja. Who’s better than me?!

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a line of kids fast approaching. The lead kid was holding a sign: I BELONG TO MRS. WILLIAMS. Perfect!

  The sign seemed STRANGE, but I made it. First mission: accomplished. I quickly jumped in line with the others and entered the classroom.

  As usual, I headed straight to the back to keep a low profile. No need to draw attention to the new kid. I saw the hooks and hung up my backpack on the wall. Surveying the classroom, my first impression was that they sure made ’em small in Maryland. Compared to the other kids, I was a giant.

  Note to self: Don’t drink the water!

  Second note to self: Sign up for basketball tryouts immediately. I saw total domination in my future!

  Wanting to make a fantastic first impression, I marched up to the teacher and introduced myself.

  “Hello, Mrs. Williams!” I said confidently. “I’m Jake, nice to meet you.”

  “Hello . . . Jake?” she answered, looking confused.

  Handing her my “new kid” slip of paper, her confusion turned to anger.

  “I’m so sorry! Welcome, welcome! You’d think the front office would let me know when I have a new student,” she said. “Take any open seat and I’ll be right back. Class, please make Jake feel welcomed!” she requested before leaving.

  Considering what I’d witnessed earlier in the front office, I didn’t think too much about her not expecting my arrival. As she exited the classroom, I felt an ocean of eyes upon me. Everyone was smiling and waving . . . WEIRD!

  As I plopped down in a chair, my knees slammed into the attached desk. OUCH!! That’s a tight fit. No more cookies for me!

  It was the smallest desk EVER! I had to slump down really low to stretch out my legs, and my knuckles almost touched the ground. I felt like Buddy from the movie Elf.

  “What’s Elf?” you ask. Only the funniest movie of all time. A true classic! When you see Buddy in class with the other elves, you’ll think of me for sure!

  With all the kids still staring at me, it was time to grab my backpack from the wall and find some distractions to escape that awkward silence.

  I jumped to my feet, or at least that’s what I tried to do. Unfortunately, the desk had other ideas. It clung to my body like an annoying piece of tape, and down I went. As I crashed to the floor, horrifically tangled in the desk/chair contraption, all I could think of was the importance of first impressions.

  Instantly, I was surrounded by kids. But, instead of belly laughter and ridicule, the group quickly had me extracted from the Desk of Death.

  Back on my feet and towering over my new friends, I was suddenly hit with a feeling of horror as the group burst into song:

  “EVERYONE NEEDS A HELPING HAND,

  A HELPING HAND, A HELPING HAND,

  EVERYONE NEEDS A FRIEND WHO CARES,

  WITH HELPING HANDS, A FRIEND WHO CARES,

  JAKE NEEDS FRIENDS WHO CARE, WITH HELPING HANDS, FRIENDS WHO CARE.”

  What the heck was going on?! Where was I? The Land of Oz? Something was not right.

  When they finished singing, all the kids started jumping up and down and wildly shaking their arms over their heads. Nobody said a word. Just lots of smiles and this crazy arm-waving.

  The strange silence was broken by a loud clapping sound. I turned around to see Mrs. Williams in the doorway. She was beaming ear-to-ear.

  “That was an excellent silent cheer, children! BRAVO! BRAVO!” shrieked the teacher.

  Mrs. Williams motioned for me to join her in the doorway. As I walked over, all the kids patted me on the back and dusted me off. That fail was beyond epic.

  The teacher, trying to control her laughter, told me I was in the wrong class. Apparently, there were two teachers at Kinney Elementary named Mrs. Williams: the Mrs. Williams who taught sixth grade, where I SHOULD have gone, AND Mrs. Williams the second-grade teacher.

  Did that really just happen?

  I closed my eyes, hoping I would wake from the nightmare. Sadly, there was no alarm clock. OUCH!

  Peeking into my REAL classroom, I quickly saw my basketball dreams shattered. Oh well, b
ack to being below-average size. BUT I’m still GIGANTIC in AWESOMENESS.

  RULES OF AWESOMENESS #4

  IF YOU BELIEVE IT TO BE TRUE, THEN IT IS.

  WARNING: THIS RULE ONLY APPLIES TO AREAS OF SELF CONFIDENCE AND THE QUESTIONING OF ONE’S SELF WORTH.

  IT DOES NOT APPLY TO GRADES, ATHLETIC ABILITY, OR RELATIONSHIP STATUS. (E.G., BELIEVING MOLLY SIMONE IS YOUR GIRLFRIEND DOES NOT MAKE HER YOUR GIRLFRIEND. IT MAKES YOU DELUSIONAL AND POTENTIALLY A STALKER!)

  The two Mrs. Williamses needed a moment. As they whispered quietly, I stood at the door anxiously awaiting instructions. Leaning toward each other, both teachers were trying to control their giggles.

  Okay! Was I the first kid to ever make a mistake? Grow up, ladies! Also, enjoy it while you can. That will be my last blunder.

  Second-grade Mrs. Williams was still cracking up as she left the classroom. SERIOUSLY? The real Mrs. Williams promptly introduced me to my new classmates. No smiles. No warm greetings. Just grumpy stares. Wow, I really missed the little guys and their silent cheering. The new group had real ATTITUDE!

  Sitting down in the only open seat, I was greeted by a familiar face.

  “Hey, man, WELCOME! Remember me? Jason? Jason Jackson? From across the street,” said the same BIG kid who narrowly avoided becoming roadkill at the hands of Alexis the Terrible.

  “Oh yeah! Hi! I’m Jake. YOU’RE in sixth grade?!” I asked, not really thinking that my utter amazement at this giant actually being in my grade could be considered insensitive.

  I mean, this kid was HUGE. He wore an extremely loud neon-striped Volt shirt and had flowing blond hair that curved down in front of his eyes. You know the type. He looked exactly like the rich kid in any Disney Channel show. The kid everyone loves to hate.

  “YUP! I’ve been held back a few times,” said Jason proudly. “Was that your sister with you the other day? MAN!!!!!! She’s HOT!”

  “Ah, yeah. That’s my sister . . . ‘HOT’?? I can think of a lot of words to describe Alexis, but HOT wouldn’t be one,” I said.

  Hot-tempered, of course. Hot under the collar, for sure. Hot from volcanic anger building inside her? DEFINITELY. “Hot” as in very good-looking and cute? I didn’t see it.

  “ALEXIS!!!! Great name. WOW!! What grade is she in?” Jason asked, turning completely around and leaning on my desk.

  “She’s in eighth grade. Way too old for you. Besides, she’s probably going to beat the crap out of you next time she sees you,” I reminded the now-drooling Jason.

  DUDE!!! Not on my desk!

  “No biggie. You got to tell her I have a late birthday, and like I said, I’ve been held back a few times,” said Jason.

  RULES OF AWESOMENESS #5

  WHEN TRYING TO IMPRESS A GIRL, IT’S BEST NOT TO REMIND HER HOW STUPID YOU ARE.

  WE LIVE IN A HIGHLY COMPETITIVE GLOBAL ECONOMY. BEING A BIG, DUMB JOCK IS UNFORTUNATE. BEING PROUD OF THIS FACT JUST MAKES YOU A DUMBER VERSION OF YOURSELF.

  “SUUUUURE! I’ll let her know,” I said.

  “Dude, does she have a boyfriend?” Jason continued.

  BOYFRIEND? I couldn’t even imagine how unlucky that guy would be. Wait a minute! Sure I could. I think a typical Alexis/boyfriend convo would go like this;

  Boyfriend: “Hi, honey, I have a surprise for you. Check out this delicious box of chocolates. Sweets for my sweetie!”

  Alexis: “WHAT!? Are you trying to KILL me? Don’t you know I’m in the middle of my lacrosse training package? I need to run two miles in under thirteen minutes. YOU IDIOT! Thanks for the extra sugar, fat, and calories.”

  Boyfriend: “Ah . . . Um . . . Gee . . . I’m sorry?”

  Alexis: “You should be sorry. Now go get me an asparagus smoothie. MORON!”

  “Nope. No boyfriend. She is one hundred percent available,” I said.

  “Sweeeet! Thanks for the info, BRO,” Jason said as he swung back around in his chair. Although our talk was brief, there was something about that kid I instantly disliked. BRO?

  Yeah, bro, good luck with Alexis, I thought. I just want to be there when you ask her out.

  Before I had time to imagine how mad Alexis was going to be when I told her about her new stalker, the bell rang. Look out! These kids hustled!

  A stampede of kids rushed the door. Caught in the flow, I was swept out with the mass migration of scrambling students.

  Not knowing where to go, I followed the geekiest kid I could find. If I wasn’t in his class, I should have been.

  As expected, my man with the scientific calculator and holstered stainless steel compass led me to gifted math. I jumped into the first empty seat, but the teacher didn’t even notice me.

  Hello! New guy here . . . I was about to get up and introduce myself when the teacher approached my desk with a big smile. FINALLY! Someone was going to make me feel welcomed.

  WHACK! The teacher slammed a piece of paper down on my desk and kept walking. No greeting. No introduction. I looked down to see CHAPTER 5 TEST.

  Next thing I heard was, “READY! Three, two, one . . . begin!”

  What?!! Hang on! There must be some kind of mistake.

  It’s an unwritten rule of being the new kid . . . NO tests, NO quizzes, NO papers, NO projects! NO anything for at least two weeks. That teacher must have been new or a substitute. Time for action.

  I approached her desk with my hand extended in an extremely polite formal introduction. I could see from her face Mrs. Tough Lady wasn’t the warm, welcoming type.

  “Good morning,” I said in a whisper. “I’m Jake. The NEW kid.”

  “Shhhh! Back to your seat,” hissed Mrs. Tough Lady.

  “Oh, no, no . . . this is my first day. Are you a substitute?” I asked harmlessly.

  “No. I’m Mrs. Stone. AND I know who you are . . . JAKE from Florida,” she said with extra emphasis on the Jake. “Now, go back to your seat and show me what you know.”

  Houston . . . we have a problem. UNHEARD OF!!!! It was an outrage. In the entire history of elementary school, no new kid was EVER asked to take a test on his first day. She was breaking a sacred, time-honored regulation of the Kid Constitution. (And if there isn’t one, let’s make one!) How is that fair?

  This is my first day of school in your lousy state, and you ask me to take a TEST!

  Mrs. Tough Lady, oh, sorry, Mrs. STONE, didn’t care. She just shooed me back to my seat, like I was some peasant bothering the queen. You have to understand, I took great pride in my grades, and I was very scared that my first test-taking experience was not going to go well.

  RULES OF AWESOMENESS #6

  MAKE IT YOUR MISSION TO ACHIEVE ACADEMIC EXCELLENCE.

  SCHOOLS AND YOUTH SPORTS ARE TRYING TO DO AWAY WITH IDENTIFYING WINNERS AND LOSERS, BUT LIFE HAS NOT.

  WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY WHERE TEACHERS ARE NO LONGER ALLOWED TO GIVE FS, AND EVEN THE LAST-PLACE TEAM GETS A HUMONGOUS TROPHY. THIS DOESN’T BEAR THE SLIGHTEST RESEMBLANCE TO ANYTHING IN REAL LIFE. CLASSROOM EXCELLENCE IS THE BEST WAY TO PREPARE FOR YOUR FUTURE.

  Not recognizing any of the material on the test, it didn’t take me long to finish. Can you say “Big Fat F”? I sat there in stunned silence. Before I knew it, Mrs. Stone was racing around the classroom, snatching the papers off everyone’s desk. The bell rang and it started to feel like I was in a boxing match. Heading into round two!!

  The rest of that day was more of the same. Only one teacher actually acknowledged my presence. To make matters worse, my two favorite periods, lunch and recess, were complete busts. Not one kid talked to me, and I ended up sitting by myself and keeping my head down, pretending to read a book.

  Was I making an effort? Not really. But please don’t judge me. It was a rough day. I really could have used some AWESOMENESS . . . But, oh well, it takes time to warm up.

  My parents were devastated to hear that my first
day was the opposite of AWESOME. Of course, I added some stuff that didn’t really happen. I needed to amp up the sympathy for a shot at double dessert!

  Unlucky for me, though, my biggest detractor, Alexis, had a wonderful first day. Why unlucky? Because her no-drama, smooth-as-silk transition put the spotlight on me—the spotlight of SHAME!

  “Don’t worry, Jake, put today in your rearview mirror and look forward to being upbeat and positive tomorrow,” suggested Mom. “It can only get better.”

  “Well, technically, Jake did screw up royally,” Alexis added. “You only get one chance to make a first impression. From what I heard, the school’s first impression of Jake is that he’s a desk-crashing second-grade wannabe. OUCH! THAT HURTS!!!!” Alexis said, smelling blood and enjoying my misery.

  “Jeez, Jake, what WERE you thinking?” asked Dad. “Didn’t the kids look really young? Even in stressful situations, you need to maintain your perception.”

  “Exactly, Dad! Perception. Jake REALLY needs to up his perception game. How could a kid with so much talent and ‘AWESOMENESS’ lack this basic cognitive component?” Alexis added in a most concerned, grown-up tone, shaking her head and smiling.

  “That’s enough, Alexis,” said Mom.

  “No problem, Mom,” I said. “She’s right. I can’t believe that happened to me. Now I know exactly how Alexis felt that time in Florida when she came out of the surf without her bikini top on. Or that time when she ‘forgot’ to pay for the soda at the convenience store, and the clerk threatened to call the police. Exactly right, Alexis! Maintaining one’s perception is critical.”

  The bathing-suit incident they knew about. Who didn’t? It happened during her class trip to the beach. The soda and the potential arrest were new info. I saw the spotlight of SHAME shifting to my adorable sister. Mess with the bull, you get the horns.