I’m never good enough. Or at least that’s how it’s always been. Apparently, I’m ordinary, but that’s far from my reality to say the least:

• I am a mid-fielder on the high school soccer team which basically means I get yelled at and run for almost 6 out of 7 days of the week for 2 hours. It’s really not my cup of tea, but my parent’s say that it’s good for my social skills and that I happen to have raw natural soccer skills.
• I am an active member of the Student council and attend every meeting every month and participate in every activity that we schedule. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a huge fan of this club, but it will look good on my résumé and I can tolerate this club more than others at school.
• My brother, Kaeleb has an abnormal amount of energy, 24/7. (It’s almost like he has an invisible IV attached to his forearm supplying him endless amounts of extra caffeinated coffee.)He’s always talking a thousand miles per hour about who knows what because he’s talking so fast that no one can understand a word he says. As a family, we came up with a motto: talk fast, nod fast.
• Both my mom and dad are ER doctors, so they’re pretty much in and out of the house at very sporadic times, so guess who basically takes care and keeps Kaeleb in check? Jackpot. Me. In addition, they are the most uptight parents that ever existed. Have you ever seen the Little Mermaid? Yeah, well, my parents are worse than Titan; They have this perfect vision for me that I never seem to fulfill. Whatever I do, even if it’s done well, is never suitable for them. Even my 100 on my Geometry final was a disappointment. Apparently, I should have asked the teacher for extra credit work so I could have bumped my grade up to a whopping 102 which would keep my standing 100 in the class since no teacher can put a grade over a 100 in the grading system.
• My teachers load me with an unnecessary and unneeded amount of homework every night, practically forbidding me to relax for just a mere second, because heaven forbid that THE Mackenzie Amber Covington gets a night off from all of her expectations. No, every day I am reminded what my future will be and how bright it is and that if I let off the gas just a picometer, my whole world will be demolished. Crazy right?
• It seems like I don’t even fit in anywhere, not the student council, soccer team or even my family, and even though I do have a group of friends, they seem to be treating me different and our relationship isn’t the same as it used to be. It’s like whatever I say is either not good enough or they ignore it. It beats me why, and I’ve given up trying, but it still bugs and wounds me.
• I’m intelligent, but everyone says I’m a genius because I make nothing less than a 95 on everything, but that’s only because I actually prepare, study, and listen to what the teachers say. Not because I’m a genius.

Even though that stuff is absolutely horrifying and dreadful enough, it is nothing compared to my very tragic ugliness:

I am short.

5 feet to be exact and let me tell you, people make sure to let me know it, too. I constantly get the “oh my god! You are so short!”  Or any jokes or comments related to my disadvantage. Yeah, I’ve heard them all twice… or more. Since I am short, I have these thunder thighs that I’m oddly self conscious about. It’s like whatever I wear; the clothing makes them look bigger. My appearance though, is average. Lots of people have the same complexion as me: olive skin tone with hazel eyes and coffee brown hair with freckles dusted on my plump cheekbones. Most of them can pull those looks off, but when it comes to me, they just seem awkward and wrong. Every day I look into my full length mirror and this girl stares back at me.

Today the girl looks tired and has bags under her eyes.

I quickly ignore all my usual critiques about myself and save time by just throwing my hair into a messy bun; I don’t have time to ponder how I should style my hair. I have to get to the school early to turn in an extra credit assignment. The usual.

Once my hair is in as messy of a bun can get, I sling my Nike bag over my shoulder and head down our spiraling stairs out the door. The cold surprises me, but it shouldn’t because I’ve lived in Illinois all my life. It’s mid- winter and we are expected to get snowed in within the next few days, so it wouldn’t surprise me if the teachers loaded us with even more homework so if we get snowed in, we’ll have something to do that’s educated. But really, who do they think will be doing school work when there are plenty of activities we could do in the snow? That just goes to show you that teachers will do anything to have kids do work on their days off.

After I trek the 3 miles from my house to the High school, I quickly go to Mr. LeFebre’s chemistry room. He looks so normal in this environment. I always imagined him as the kid in school that always fit in, no matter who he was with.

I say my greeting and then turn in my Extra credit. He looks at me and gives me a wink and states,

“Mack, I can always count on you. I can’t believe I won’t be seeing you anymore soon. It’s a shame, really.”

To which I respond, “Oh, yeah, well maybe I’ll get you as my psychology teacher next year.”

Laughing Mr.LeFebre responds, “You were always a jokester. See you in 5^th period Mack.”
While I was leaving his room, our conversation replayed in my head. Why did he seem so sincere and call me a jokester. When  I was genuinely suggesting that he might be my psyche teacher? It was odd.

That’s not the only uncomfortable and awkward situation that happened. All throughout the day, I was getting these sad looks and goodbyes from friends and teachers every period.

1^st- Spanish III with Mr. Santoya

2^nd- World History with Mrs.Anikin

3^rd-Geometry with Mr. East

4^th- Honors literature with Mrs.Gillenhope (AKA Mrs. G)

5^th- Chemistry with Mr.LeFebre

6^th- Photography with Mr.Johnesten

7^th- Anatomy with Mrs. Ingram

Are they trying to give me hint? Are they saying they want me to leave? I wouldn’t be surprised if they did, as I tend to be the only person that no one really wants to be included with any ‘cliques’.

After my bizarre school day, I have soccer practice and nothing really changes from there. I was hoping that maybe since my team doesn’t treat me well that they would still be the same. I would have to depend on this one constant in my life to depend on the make my day, in a way, normal. But I was soon to be corrected. Even the team was treating me differently. Instead of actually saying comments about whatever they think is going on that I obviously don’t know about. They were going easy on me. They would let me get the steal, beat the time when we did the gassers, and they kept shooting me these sympathetic looks.

Is there a rumor going around about me that I don’t know about?

Have I done something wrong?

If so, why does everyone else seem to know what’s happening when the person it seems to be happening to hasn’t have a clue?

I would soon find out.