Constructive Criticism

Author’s Note: Yes, I re-wrote it. Darn, I’m such a Fiction Press slave. As soon as I’m told to re-write, I did. How obsessive of me. So what did I change? Well, quite a bit, but the storyline is still the same, of course, but I re-did a lot of the dialogue so it made more sense, and I fixed up some more other stuff and added a few bits here and there… Sorry it was a bit weird the first time – when I’m writing stories I sometimes get too over-excited and I end up rushing them. -.-‘ Now I’m oh-so-very-sleep-deprived… oh woe… oh well, I’ll live xD - Love from SatoKibi.

This story was originally meant to be a one-shot, that's why it's so short, but I don't like posting chapters longer than around 1500 words, which is why I cut this story into three parts.

Chapter One

“It takes a thousand praises to climb a mountain, and one scold to push you off it.”

“Ninety-nine percent in the test!? Good job, Amelia!”

“And this test was actually said to be really, really hard! You must be like, so smart!”

“How do you do so well!? Teach me! Teach me!”

My new year started off perfectly. Once again, the whole class was crowded around me, creating a tight spotlight of just-enough-space-for-breathing around my seat as they gaped in awe at the exam paper in front of me. I loved being the smartest girl in the class, perhaps even the grade. I could feel my pride-filled grin reaching up to my ears, as I sat there watching them stare at the numerous red ticks on my page. They almost looked like smiles themselves.

I picked up my almost-perfect answer sheet and hugged it to my chest – another beautiful addition to my extensive collection of good marks and grades; Mum and Dad would be so happy for me – actually, they already are. “Thank you everybody for your praise,” I said calmly, trying my best to be modest. I want to thank God for his plan for me, Mummy and Daddy for encouraging me, and Nanna for baking those awesome choc-chip cookies that sent me on sugar-highs and gave me more energy to study…

I really loved the attention and that’s what I would’ve said, but I decided to keep my weird childish self hidden. So instead I bowed my head courteously and thanked everyone for their praise. Nothing I did or tried to think would make me wipe the smile off my face, but to my surprise, someone else did.

“Class, this year- well, this time, at least,” Mr Simmons said, in his slow-but-loud politician voice, pausing after every few words. “We have, a new, top student, in our class.” Everybody gasped in shock, including me. “Daniel Drake, please, stand up, and show us, your test.” From the back of the classroom, which to me seemed like a mile away, a boy stood up reluctantly. It was the first time he had ever been in my class. He straightened his back he folded his arms indignantly across his chest, frowning at everyone.

What a weirdo, I thought, If I was him I'd be over the moon about getting such a great score.

“Daniel, here, got full marks.” Mr Simmons explained. No way… “One hundred, percent,” he repeated again, as if once wasn’t enough. He is freakin’ killing me here! “Amazing, isn’t it?”

And suddenly the whole class turned their attention to him and away from me. Hey wait! I’m not finished basking in the sunshine of admiration yet! Don’t just leave me like that! Daniel gives me a quick half-sympathetic glance before being swallowed up by the adoring crowd. My adoring crowd. I felt myself beginning to hate him already.

“You stole my sunshine!” I shouted angrily, forgetting that I was supposed to keep my composure at all times. “Give it back!”

“Take it; I don’t want it,” he said sarcastically, “That is, if you can.” I was about to leap up and dig my nails into that smug face of his, but the teacher told us to settle down and get back to work, so I had no choice but to obey.

He was mocking me, that jerk - he humiliated me in front of the whole class! I was not going to let him get away with it. I looked down at my paper and the tiny bit of imperfection, the depressing little cross that stood out on the page like a wine stain on a tablecloth, which he didn’t have, and ground my teeth in frustration. Why do I always get just below full marks? It’s so annoying. There’s always something wrong with my results, even if it’s just one thing. And I hated that. Really hated.

Anyway, after a good night’s sleep, I woke up the next day feeling slightly better. I really wanted to strangle him and hang him like a roast duck in a Chinese restaurant (not to mention having that metal hook stuck through his chest and out his backside), but I held my fury in. That day just happened to be the day when I was going to prove to everyone that gummy bears are evil because when you soak them in water for a few days they expand ten times their original size. After doing so, I carefully carried the gummy bear to school on a little plastic plate, and beside it I placed a dry one so everybody could see the difference.

But that day also happened to be the day that I literally bumped into Daniel at the front of the school where our parents simultaneously dropped us off, and my poor little experimented bear tumbled off the plate and onto the ground with a literal splat. Obviously it was now nothing like a gummy bear anymore. It was more like a pile of jelly that had been run over by a lawnmower. Poor thing. I bent down to pick it up.

He towered above me, almost completely covering my whole body with his shadow. He put his hands on his waist and looked down at my crouched figure and frowned again. “What are you doing?” he asked, scrunching his eyebrows.

“Thanks to you,” I growled, “My gummy bears are ruined!”

“Why the heck did you come to school with two gummy bears?"

“Because I want to prove that when a gummy bear is soaked in water it expands to this enormous size. I am using this as evidence for my theory that gummy bears are more evil than people think. Imagine if this happened in your stomach!”

“That’s stupid.” He scoffed.

I glared at him. If there is one thing in this world I hate, it is criticism. Especially of me. I hate it even more than I hate… even more than I hate… him. But he was definitely catching up. “I’m not stupid!”

He sighed. “I didn't say you were stupid."

"Yes you did!"

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you want to think. How long did it take for it to get that big anyway?”

“Three days,” I admitted.

“Exactly,” he said, sighing again. “The human digestive system works in such a way that one must produce faeces around once every day, which means that in the time your gummy bear took to soak up all that water, you would have done twos in the toilet about three times already. And this is not including the fact that your digestive juices in your stomach would melt it before it even gets a chance to do anything in the first place. How come you don't know this stuff?”

“I do!” I lied. “It’s just for fun, that’s all...”

“Right, so what happened to the rest of the packet? I bet you ate them despite hating them so much. You should really practise what you preach.”

“I… um… err … well…” As I was kneeling there, wondering what to say next, when he bent down and picked up the un-soaked gummy bear then popped it into his mouth.

“As for me… I’ll test this one for you if you like,” he said, grinning for the first time I’ve ever seen. For once he seemed genuinely cheerful. He looks better when he’s happy. Does sugar do that to you? But even so, I still don’t like him. He annoys me to no end, and plus he ate my gummy bear even though it had been on the ground. What a freak.

“Wait!” I called, as he walked away, “That gummy bear was dirty! It’s unhygienic to eat it off the ground – there are probably bacteria on it!”

“Everything has bacteria on it,” he said uncaringly, before disappearing up the stairs.

I stood there with my mouth wide open. Why does he keep doing this to me!? First he beats me in that test then he continuously outsmarts me and comes up with all these witty remarks to make me feel bad. And why am I still here mourning over the loss of my gummy bear? I must get to know him, and DESTROY HIM. Somehow…?