Third-Grade Accusations

One of the many vignettes I have created - some stand on their own, however, most don't. If you are looking for storyline and plot, you'll likely click away disappointed. Commentary, on the other hand, you might like it.

Third Grade Accusations

When I was in third-grade, I had my first experience with that particular humiliation that only seems to come from encounters with the opposite sex. We had a new girl from Wisconsin join our class. My friend Steve and I had an instant crush on her from the first day. We would share our daydreams of rescuing Jessica from whatever disaster our capricious minds could drum up while we walked home from school together.

Weeks later, as luck had it, when our teacher Mrs. Alanson made the seating roster, she sat Jessica directly behind me. I looked back at Steve with a smile, knowing that fortune and true love had fallen into my lap by a seating assignment. “Mrs. Alanson must know that Jessica likes me, else she wouldn’t sit her right next to me in class,” I taunted Steve on the way home.

“Whatever,” he would respond in a truculent fashion. My enthusiasm for the subject never wavered, even with his fierce attempts to change the subject. I never expected he had plans to retaliate.

Days later, I came down with chicken pox and missed a week of school. Any time when an ill classmate was going to be out for more a few days, Mrs. Alanson,- who looked very much like Ralphie’s teacher from the movie A Christmas Story- would have us all draw get-well cards for the lucky brat missing class. I still remember the cards my classmates drew for me.

Of the thirty cards delivered to me in a paper grocery bag, I tossed all but two aside. One was from my buddy Steve and the other was from Jessica- these were the only ones that mattered. Jessica’s card had a drawing of an eagle with a get-well message. In his card, Steve sent me news that Jessica said she missed me and liked me. I was ecstatic. For the first time, I couldn’t wait to go back to school. She’s going to be my girlfriend was all I could think about while I sat at home, my body crusty with pink Calamine lotion.

I was about to find out that Jessica wasn’t quite the angel I initially thought. The day I returned from school, I approached Jessica about her comments about missing me while I was gone. “Ha ha, Steve was playing with you. I never said that,” she snickered.

“Oh,” was all I could muster before I slinked away, red from embarrassment.

Later that afternoon, our class was making trees decked with autumn leaves made of construction paper. We collected our materials and went to work. I put a large, black hole in the center of the tree, imagining a squirrel nesting there. I was proud of my idea. I even drew the squirrel into the tree branches above. No one else thought about something like that.

When I turned around to show Jessica my idea, she gave me an evil look. Instantly, as if waiting for me, she sneered, “You copied off me.”

“No, I didn’t,” I retorted, shocked by her accusation.

My jaw dropped, and before I could muster anything else to say, the words, “I’m telling Teacher” echoed in my ears, sounding slurred and surreal. She bolted to the back of the class, where the teacher sat. I watched from my desk with a pale face, mortified at the little wretch’s exaggerated gestures and counted the severe glances my teacher sent in my direction. I was about to piss my pants. My world was over. In seconds, the girl of my dreams became a vicious and vindictive snake.

Jessica skipped back to her seat with a satisfied smirk on her face. The teacher stalked to the front of the class and demanded our attention.

“Children. I want to make sure you all understand that these art projects are to be your own ideas.” Mrs. Alanson was addressing the whole class, however, her eyes never left me. “There is someone who has been cheating. Let’s all do our own work from now on.” I sat there in shock while her intimidating eyes kept me silent. The class knew that Mrs. Alanson had just branded me with the scarlet letter. I was red with injustice. I could still hear the glee Jessica’s voice as she leaned forward and whispered, “ha ha” into my ear.