14I had one of those days.
Digging
His teeth roped in his lower lip, and he squeezed while staring at the red ink splattered over almost every question. He should've known. In fact, he had known as soon as the paper touched his desk last Friday that he would fail, and not his dad's definition of failure but the rest of the world's.
"An F, Mr. Kido."
Moisture clouded his vision, and he turned all his attention to keeping the perched tears from rolling down his cheeks. He shouldn't be crying over this. It was just a grade. His dad always said your true love and death are the only reasons a man should cry.
But it wasn't just a grade. It was the one before and the one even before that. One thing led to another, and he understood the material less and less despite trying harder and harder. The teacher didn't expect him to need any help so none was offered. After all he was Joe Kido, he was the smart one.
In reality, he was just the one who worked passed his breaking point and cared far too much.
To think all his years of work could be soiled by a few bad marks. It would all be for nothing: the hours of studying, the few extra minutes spent in the library while everyone else went off to play, the time he'd lost just worrying over his grades. It would be meaningless compared to those kids who were still passing this class. He feared for years they would surpass him, and he'd get lost in the crowd, but did it have to happen now?
Then again, at least he knew to keep his expectations low for the rest of the school year.
Joe furiously rubbed the moisture out of his eyes causing red marks in addition to the indents his glasses caused. He wanted to spit those words out of his vocabulary: low expectations. His father wouldn't settle for that, and Joe wouldn't settle for a disappointed dad.
The bell rang as a reminder of all the time Joe had wasted. He slid from his seat and brought a hand to his greasy, blue hair. He scowled. Yesterday's afternoon spent in the Digital World left no time for proper cleanliness or a studying session.
He took his backpack and wandered through the halls letting his feet decide where his next class was. He honestly couldn't remember. His mind was blank and yet filled to capacity; not one coherent thought could get through his head. He could only feel the pounding of failure, disappointment, and rejection.
He couldn't tell you why he didn't go to his next class. Maybe he didn't want more disappointment today or he needed to be alone.
Or maybe he was just too tired to try anymore.
Joe wandered outside and looked around. He wasn't quite sure what to do, but as long as he wasn't in that building it didn't matter. He caught sight of a shovel leaning abandoned against the school's brick wall.
He let his backpack fall of his shoulders with a loud thud and went stumbling over to the object. It was chipped wood with a dull, metal plate loosely attached to the end, and Joe thought just looking at it could give him a splinter. He picked it up anyway knowing that would be the least of his problems.
"Don't you have anything better to do?"
The voice came out of nowhere startling Joe. He became painfully aware that he wasn't supposed to be there and had half a mind to run or fall to his knees and start begging for mercy, but before deciding on which he locked eyes with the owner of the calm and casual voice.
"…Matt?"
His younger, blond friend mock-pouted. "You have to ask?" He sat about ten feet away leaning on the side of the building. He seemed quite comfortable like he'd been there for awhile. "What's that for? Planning to dig to the other side of the world?"
Joe almost forgot the shovel between his hands in his panic. "Yep, Argentina," he said sarcastically and forced the shovel into the ground.
Matt hesitated eyeing his clearly upset friend and wondering if he should even bring it up.
"Argentina isn't opposite Japan. The Atlantic Ocean is."
He pushed his glasses farther up his nose as he pushed the shovel further into the earth. "Great, I'll go swimming."
"You can't swim, Joe."
"Then what a great learning opportunity this will be!" He took a huge scoop of dirt out of the earth and placed it not even a foot from where he'd just dug it up.
Matt scrunched up his nose. He knew something had to be wrong. Joe of all people didn't skip class, and he certainly didn't do it to play in the dirt. "So," the younger started uneasily, "what happened?"
Joe scowled. Was it really that obvious or did Matt just know him too well? "Nothing, the school's just too stuffy. I don't want my throat getting clogged up."
Matt was about to make a quip about the air outside being just as polluted, but he bit his tongue. His friend didn't need jokes but someone to listen. "Come on, what's the real reason?"
Joe kept his eyes trained on the shovel unsure of which one of them he was admitting this to. "…I failed a test."
"Oh…" Matt meant to go on, but he couldn't. Grades meant a lot to Joe, but Matt didn't worry about them much at all. He couldn't relate.
Joe went on, and the words poured out. "I worried and studied and prayed, but when the test came none of that mattered. I stared at the paper and didn't know anything just like the last test and the quiz before that, and I can't ask the teacher for help because my dad expects me not to need it, and I shouldn't need it. I'm supposed to do well and understand, but I just… don't anymore."
Matt squirmed in his seat. He really didn't know what to say. He scolded himself, 'You've got the crest of friendship, don't you? Well your friend needs you. Do something, anything!'
He stood up quickly startling Joe. "Let me help." The elder gave him an inquisitive look, but Matt just shrugged. "I mean you're always there for us. Maybe one of us should help you for a change."
Matt gently took the shovel from him and began digging. Joe watched in silence, and the smallest of smiles graced his face. His grades didn't change his friendships or the way they saw him. He was still Joe, and even though he should've already known that it was nice to be reminded. Today had been too much, and he'd snapped, but his friend was there to hold the pieces together.
"You know, Einstein got Fs," Matt said, "That's what my dad told me. He may have disappointed a few teachers and his parents, but that didn't define him because he went on to do a lot of good things…. Maybe you should think about the good things."
Joe tried to respond, but Matt had only paused for a beat before continuing.
"You're always there for all the Chosen Children, and sometimes you're even funny, and you're still smart even if one stupid test says otherwise."
A bit of warmth came to the boy's face from all the flattery. "...Am I really funny?"
"I said sometimes," Matt replied quickly, but Joe took it as a compliment all the same.
"Wait a minute," Joe said suddenly, "what are you doing here?"
"I attend school here…"
"Yeah, so why aren't you in class?"
"I'm sick," Matt said as though it were the obvious truth.
He looked his younger friend up and down. "No, you're not."
Matt shrugged like his current health didn't make a difference. "Well the fact those morons can't even maintain a rhythm in Music Class was giving me a migraine."
"Are you talking about Tai?"
Matt thought of his noisy, chaotic class and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Trust me; he's not the worst one."
Joe cringed remembering the awful noise that was Tai with bongos that still haunted his most chaotic nightmares. "It seems like you've been here awhile. Your class is probably over by now. Maybe we should head back."
Matt frowned. "Do you really want to?" His upset friend couldn't be ready to face the school that had just knocked him down already.
"No, but I need to. This was just one bad day, and I can't let that define me." Joe took the shovel and leaned it back on the wall.
"…But do I have to go back?" Matt asked with a bit of a whine.
"Oh come on, it won't kill you." Joe started walking signaling the other to come.
Matt followed reluctantly. "If they cause me to lose all sense of rhythm and/or hearing I blame you."
Joe rolled his eyes with a small smirk. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Thank you for reading :)