No Contest

My daughter asked me the other day if I'd ever won a competition with my writing, and it brought back the memory of the one and only contest I'd ever entered....and the ironically laughable results.

I met a boy in 8th grade that I liked very much. We both had math together with Mr. Magee who looked a lot like a skinny version of Walter Mathau with a moustache. He wasn't very interesting -- as I recollect -- well, at least not as interesting as this boy who sat next to me and cracked funny jokes.

Anyways, I digress....

We began to like each other very much. He liked to draw, and I, of course, liked to write. I had dreams of us as a couple, writing and illustrating our own children's books. We "hung out" a lot after that....

Fast forward to 10th grade English class and the aforementioned short-story writing contest. By this point, we couldn't stand one another. He'd forgotten my birthday -- very unromantically especially given the fact that his birthday was a mere 16 days later -- and he'd compared his love for me with that of his love for a rhinoceros. (He struggled with grace.)

I entered a short story about a girl who wouldn't date a kid who'd been injured after doing something wrong...or something like that. I was really proud of that story. All my friends insisted that I'd get first place. I tried not to get my hopes up, but I knew it was "good." (*clearing throat* Pride comes before a fall???)

The results?

I got SECOND Place. I was thrilled because I'd at least won a prize. It was quite an honor, especially because it was published in the school newspaper.

The irony?

The boy-I'd-liked-and-then-hated got FIRST place! I felt cheated only in that he knew how much I was hoping to win...and how much I liked writing. He was a cartoonist, for goodness sake. I felt like Anne of Green Gables did when she was bested by Gilbert Blythe.

It didn't really matter in the big scheme of things. My pride was injured more than my feelings. We continued to "hate" each other through the end of high school, and about a year later I wrote a letter apologizing for my part in our "friendship" breaking up.

Today, we keep in touch as old friends do.

And if I ever reminded him of that story, I'm sure he would laugh about it now....I know I do.