Was It Worth It

by Isabella Orr

Tuesday’s were usually the worst of it. The clock never seemed to keep up with the storm school offered. Everything was chase, listen, do, distract, wait, go, stop, run. His eyes were more often than not fighting to close. But today, the clock purposefully trailed behind the day as his fingers itched against his phone, hidden by his pocket. He twirled his pencil in his other hand.

Chase…work…go…listen. The sound of scratching pencils pierced his ears. In-class essays were usually no-brainers for him, but today was the exception. He twirled his pencil faster. Distract…wait…stop. The pencil flew out of his hand. He shuffled out of his seat and walked over to Cindy’s desk where it landed. Perfect luck. He uttered an apology and she gave a
smile in return. He tried to do the same. When he came back to his desk his eyes landed on the paper in front of him. It was blank, and his fingers continued to itch.

The bell finally rang and he placed his paper at the front desk with the other seniors,
giving it one last glance before escaping it. Go…stop…distract.
“Nice aim Logan.”
What? Oh, Cindy.
“Oh, no, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to-”
“Yeah, right. You’ve been eyeing her all year.” Logan stammered in response.
The other boy rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say. Hey, are you busy after school?”
Logan replied with no hesitation. “Yes. Richards’ assignment.”

“That’s not due for two weeks! Spring grades don’t even matter, you can’t go out for one
day?” Logan observed him. Usually a baseball bat peaked out of his backpack, but it was gone.
  Right, the semester was ending.
“One, it doesn’t hurt to get a head start. Two, yes they do.”
The boy shook his head. “You’re crazy. Probably better than me, but crazy.”
And with that he was gone.

The rest of the day was the same. Can you hang out? No, busy. There’s a movie on at seven. Can’t, sorry. He had to remind himself that it’ll all be worth it. He checked his calendar. It was empty. He checked his phone. Nothing yet. Tuesdays were usually the worst. A meeting here, a practice there, a scolding in the horizon. But when he left campus there was none of that. The end of the semester brought an unsettling peace as practices and meetings rolled to a halt. There was a park across the street, beautiful and tempting. He caved. All the benches were occupied by students enjoying the sun. Logan just squinted at it. He found a solitary bench under a willow, but it was quickly stolen. Cindy had a small stereo at her feet and a friend at each shoulder. He almost threw his pencil at them. Is no one concerned? They come out today, they come today! He got his phone out to stare at as he turned and walked away. The screen was blank. They’ll come out later today.

There was another free bench, but it was by the slides, swings, and worst of all, children. A sigh escaped and he tried to look even more busy as he sat down. He couldn’t shake the shrieks and laughter. He caved. Logan looked at the young faces, watched them run, watched them climb. He wondered when the last time he felt that careless was. He couldn’t remember.

As he tried to remember a small shadow appeared at his feet, attached to a young boy.
“Hey, that’s really good!”

Logan turned. The boy had freckles splattered across his face and a bandaid on his finger was pointing. Logan looked at the ground where he had been sketching in the mud with a stick.

“Oh, thanks. It’s nothing.”
“I wish I could draw like that. Do you have any pictures on your phone?”
Logan blinked. “Of what?”
“Of stuff you’ve made!”
“Oh, um, no. I don’t take art class.”

Now it was the boy’s turn to blink. “Don’t you just do it for fun? You’re really good!”
Logan didn’t understand this kid. It wasn’t required. It would make him stop, not go.
Distract, not chase.

The boy’s mother called him over, and he gave Logan a wave and ran off, leaving him to the mud. Logan stared at it. Maybe it was good. But it was too late now. He checked his phone. Nothing yet.

After some more waiting Logan finally found the courage to go home. He was immediately cornered upon opening the front door.
“Honey, there you are! Do you know if-”
“No, they haven’t come out yet.”
His mother clasped her hands together. “It’ll all be worth it, don’t worry!” He worried.

He handed her a smile and disappeared down the hall. His room was small and was the only bedroom with a window. For the first time since he was about the bandaid boy’s age, maybe the end of elementary school, he looked outside of it. It forced him to look away from the medals, projects, awards, and anything that screamed they come out today! There wasn’t a single movie poster, ticket stub, or stained jacket in sight. The room showcased life, but no life outside of it.

Logan tried to breathe and leaned against the window. It’s okay. It will all be worth it. Maybe he should have hung out today, and all the other days. No, it’s worth it. But if he spent more time outside school. No. Listen. Chase. Do. Go.

His laptop and phone dinged in unison.

Logan stared at the laptop, as if it insulted him. The crawl from the bed to the desk was not without struggle, and at last he was sitting upright. Distract. Wait. Wait. Wait.

No, there’s no other time. He opened the laptop and clicked on his email.

      Wait.

There it was, at the top of the inbox.

      Wait, wait, wait.

He glanced up. The glimmer of medals and glare of awards met his eyes. They mocked him, demanding justice for their trials.

     Go, go, go.

He took a breath, and clicked.

     We regret to inform you that you have not been accepted…

And then everything stopped.

His legs turned to stone and his hands hovered above the keyboard. The time reflected in the corner of the screen counted the minutes until he dared move, lowering his head into his hands. Logan closed his eyes tight, squeezing them as if he could force this memory out of his head. Darkness shielded his eyes, protecting him from the screen.

      Maybe I’ll just stay like this forever.

It was easier than going out and telling his mom, friends, and teammates, but there was someone he needed to confront first. He raised his head and opened his eyes, staring up at the medals and awards on the wall. They looked disappointed, and pitiful, and Logan felt blinded by their stare. Evidence of what it was all for, but he could not attain. He had nothing left to chase.