“Before I went home, I dropped by my English room to get my test back. I looked at my score and… No! I got an F. A big, fat, red, F! I looked at my pink and grey sneakers. Then, I walked to my apartment with my feet dragging behind me.”
Once upon a time there was a beautiful city in America. The city was called New York.
I woke up this morning feeling happy. It was a beautiful day in NY, the sky was clear, the sun was shining, and I was happy!
But it was Monday. Moody Monday. I brushed my teeth, took a shower, and ate my food. Then, I ran to school. First period was English. We started with a test, and I felt confident. I had been studying for this test for weeks. The class started. Finally, time was up. We passed our papers to the teacher. My test was going to be returned by the end of the day. I had third, fourth, and fifth period. After third period was lunch. For lunch was pizza! Yay! After lunch, I had two more periods before I got my test back, and I could go home. The second to last period was math, and the last period was history.
Before I went home, I dropped by my English room to get my test back. I looked at my score and… No! I got an F. A big, fat, red, F! I looked at my pink and grey sneakers. Then, I walked to my apartment with my feet dragging behind me. I opened my colorful backpack, took out my books, and started studying for my math test, eager to get an A on my math test. I looked at my test again, then I looked at the name bar and instead of my name, I saw the biggest loser’s name in the name bar. This test paper was not mine! The next day, I went to school, went straight to the English room, and I saw Dud, the biggest loser in the class. He was copying down my answers on a piece of paper that looked just like the real test, except this wasn’t. I was speechless.
Right then the teacher came in and asked, “What are you two doing?!”
Dud answered quickly, “Emily told me to copy down answers for her next test or else she’ll get the whole school to go against me!”
I said in a loud voice, “No, I did not!”
Instantaneously, my teacher said in a slow whisper scream, “Emily detention. Now.”
I was in shock, but I managed to squeak out, “I did not do anything!”
The teacher said, “Emily. Detention or Expelled.”
I quietly walked out of the room without another word.
Detention was awful. They made us sit quietly without saying a thing. The gym teacher made me do seventy-five push-ups while doing my math homework in my head.
The next day, I went to Dud and told him, “You have gotten me in a lot of trouble, and now it’s time for me to get you back.”
Dud looked horrified. Then, I walked to Wendy, my best friend. I started telling her about Dud and detention.
Wendy said, “Let’s make sure during lunch when the entire school’s there, we insult and embarrass Dud so he’ll be sorry.”
During lunch, I got everybody’s attention.
I stood on the table and screamed out, “Dud wears underpants to school that have pictures of his own face on them!”
Everyone started laughing.
Yes, mission accomplished, I thought.
I felt kinda bad for Dud, but I knew I got him back, and the school was against him. After lunch, the school was teasing and mocking Dud by calling him “Dud on the butt.” Dud was even more gloomy and depressed than usual. During classes, he wasn’t raising his hand or doing his usual Dud things, as in raising his hand or participating.
Now, I was actually starting to feel bad for Dud, a.k.a. the biggest liar in the world. I don’t think I should have embarrassed him in front of the school. Instead, a better choice would have been talking to him and the teachers personally and figuring things out. But, it wasn’t too late to have a conversation.
So, the next day, I asked the teacher if I could talk to her about something with Dud. During the conversation, I told the teacher that I didn’t tell Dud to cheat. I apologized to Dud and told him I felt terrible for embarrassing him in front of the whole school. The teacher was proud of me for putting in an effort to figure things out between Dud and me.
Now, all that was left to do is have a conversation with Dud a.k.a Dud on the butt. I asked Dud if I could have another conversation with him.
He said, “Sure, whatever.”
We met at recess, and had our very important conversion. I asked him why he copied down my answers. Dud told me his parents were divorced, and he lived with his dad. His dad was really strict and expected him to get an A on every single test, quiz, or assignment. He also told me that his mom had died from an asthma attack one year ago.
The most surprising thing he told me was that his real name was Dudley. I asked him why he did not use his real name at school. He said his name was a mistake, and that when he was applying for school here, his name got misspelled. Then, the teachers started calling him Dud, and then, the kids started calling him Dud. I told Dud a.k.a Dudley that I was really sorry for him.
Suddenly, the bell rang and it indicated that we had to go to our next class. I told him how nice it was to finally have a conversation with him and figure things out. Dudley smiled.
Finally, the end of the year had come along. I was feeling good about next year, knowing Dudley wouldn’t be giving me the evil eye all year. We were saying our goodbyes to our friends and teachers. On the last day, I said goodbye to Wendy, my best friend, to Dudley, to my teachers, and to everyone else. Dudley and I made eye contact and went our own ways.