Test days for math are usually the most stressful days for me. I would prefer doing 10 projects to describe my learning rather than doing a simple one-hour test. Sadly, that’s not the way it works for math. There simply isn’t any other way to demonstrate your learning other than a test. The fear of losing, the anxiety of being worse, and the horror of my reputation being crushed by an 8.5 x 11 piece of paper is too devastating for a simple mouse like me to handle. My friends may admire me for being smart, but I admire them because they don’t have to care about their results.

So, it’s the day of the math test but thankfully it’s in my 3^rd block. As I venture through the big, pale doors of the school, it’s as if time flew faster than the speed of light, and there I was, in math class, in the 3^rd block. I sat there, thinking of what kind of thing just happened: my arch nemesis, rival, competitor, who is also my best friend, just happened to pop into the class. There he is, Mr. Genius. Doesn’t do homework, doesn’t prepare, and sleeps in class, but when he does anything, literally, anything, he never loses.

As he hits the seat, he draws out his small dagger, is ready to slay the big beast without any proper preparation or weapons, but you really don’t need those when you got a hell of a brain. Tests were being distributed and the room immediately was stormed with silence. Unfortunately, the silence just made enough room for my nervousness to scold me.

After silently scribbling down answers for about 5 minutes, Mr. Genius decides to rise and swipe in his test. Gee, at least he could’ve waited a bit before handing in, show off! I thought to myself. But then again, who wouldn’t want to show off that inhuman ability?

I concentrated. My mind was working fast, but was it correct? Should I double check? Triple check? No, I’ll quad triple check. Wait, stop. Look at the time. 10 minutes left? People started to whisper, phones were being tapped, the clock was ticking. My brain was slowly being shut down by the most annoying sounds of all which were screaming like a tiger. tick, tock, tick tock. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Whisper, whisper, whisper. I’m not sure what happened after that, but I was glad to have made it out of the classroom alive, with both feet, both hands, and a functioning brain.

Fast forward about a week, the tests finally distributed back, and I was either going to brag for 2 minutes, or let my status burn in hell. I was eager to lift the heavy weight that had been on me once and for all. Mr. Genius got his test back, with a whopping 77%. Not bad, not good, but I’m probably not doing any better. Who am I to judge if I wasn’t as good as him? As my test was revealed to me, I was eager, uneasy, terrified to retrieve what may determine the rest of my future. I got a hold on the double-paged, 9 grams of paper, turned it around, and took a short glance.

From that day on, I learned that It may be good to have some confidence in myself. I leisurely sat back down, and it may have seemed that pride had completely devoured me at the moment. An incredible 92% did not deserve to be kept a secret. Lips were moving, arms were shaking, and my throat was completely filled with crap nobody wanted to hear and it felt good.

In the midst of my enjoyment and boasting attitude, our teacher declared, “Be sure to study for the test next Tuesday on trigonometry!”

I think I did super well on the 3rd to last paragraph with all the short sentences. It was something I never thought of before, and learned through reading short stories in class. To do better next time, I will double check my grammar mistakes and use better wording for some parts.