Proud of Myself

I slowly eat the rest of my pizza. I'm not really hungry, but it's something to do while I wait. Over and over I glance over to the entrance of the cafeteria. People are talking to me, but I'm not listening. Over a hundred voices surround me in this large room, but I don't hear any of them. I just see the entrance and feel my heart beating in my chest.

There they are.

I stand up as a small group of students enter, each carrying a thin, rolled up poster. Everyone immediately stares. Some girls squeal excitedly, others try and keep their cool.

All of us have something in common: we all want to see our name on one of those posters.

All of the posters are taped to the walls, but the students are still holding them up.

"One!

"Two!

"Three!"

The posters drop. The squeals of some girls are immediately heard.

I push through the crowd, searching for the poster that says "Prose" across the top.

I see it.

I push to the front to see the poster. From top to bottom I read to myself the six names:

Not me.

Not me.

Not me.

Not me.

Not me.

Me!

For a second, I doubt what my eyes tell me, so I read it again.

My eyes do not deceive me.

A grin forms on my face and I quickly memorize the room number on the poster. I collect my things and rush to the room, my heart nearly beating out of my chest.

I compete in my Finals Prose round and then go to the auditorium and wait anxiously for awards. The long wait for awards to start, always long, has never felt longer.

Finally, after what felt like hours, awards was about to start.

I impatiently sat through awards for the events before Prose (but I did my best to hide it when someone I knew was up on stage) until finally I heard the lady who was announcing awards said, "Prose on deck."

I froze for a moment, unable to move until my heart sped up and I speedily made my way to where the others who broke to Prose Finals were standing.

I paid no attention to the announcing of who won what in the event that was currently receiving awards. I simply clapped respectfully as I waited for the announcer to say,

"Prose on stage."

I walked as calmly as possible onstage with my competitors. I took a deep breath before the announcer began.

Sixth place.

Not me.

Fifth place.

Not me.

Fourth place.

Not me.

My heart sped up—I was already placed higher than I could ever imagine being placed.

Third place.

Not me.

I might pee myself.

Second place.

Not me.

I heard a collective gasp come from my team and I saw some of my friends holding back squeals of delight.

First place.

Me.

Everyone in the audience stood up and clapped. I accepted my trophy and the rolled up poster from the lady handing it to me.

For the first time in years, I am proud of myself.