As I stood at the front of the auditorium, staring out at rows of expectant faces, my voice wobbled precariously, threatening to betray me. It was supposed to be a simple presentation on the history of our school, but my stomach betrayed my best intentions by doing a slow, nauseating loop-the-loop.
Mrs. Jenkins was beaming with pride in the front row, which didn't help – I'd seen her smile plastered in 'Welcome Back' newsletters and on a mug on her desk, but it didn't soften the humiliation. Sweat droplets formed at my hairline, one of which decided it wanted to be a tiny, annoying waterfall, trickling silently down my temple. The projector whirred behind me, a reminder that we were indeed waiting for me to begin.
Why did I volunteer for this when Mr. Patel specifically called out for anyone sane to participate? My heart, which at any normal school assembly would have been cheering for the cheerleaders, now felt about to be turned into oatmeal.
Mrs. Jenkins was beaming with pride in the front row, which didn't help – I'd seen her smile plastered in 'Welcome Back' newsletters and on a mug on her desk, but it didn't soften the humiliation. Sweat droplets formed at my hairline, one of which decided it wanted to be a tiny, annoying waterfall, trickling silently down my temple. The projector whirred behind me, a reminder that we were indeed waiting for me to begin.
Why did I volunteer for this when Mr. Patel specifically called out for anyone sane to participate? My heart, which at any normal school assembly would have been cheering for the cheerleaders, now felt about to be turned into oatmeal.
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