Remembering to Breathe
It was six o'clock in the morning and Jason, Alex, and Terry had yet to go to sleep. Instead, they'd stayed up all night, talking. About what, none of them could remember, but it had been fun. Alex was half asleep on his bed, watching Jason and Terry compete in an incredibly serious competition. It was deadly. It was a pillow fight.
He watched them, slowly dropping off to sleep. He was rudely awoken by the bell for breakfast. Terry and Jason were already gone, and Alex got up and dressed. As he was dressing, the color left his skin and he closed his eyes. "IDIOT!" he yelled at himself, then smacked his head against the wall. He ran out the door to breakfast and, on the way out, grabbed his World History textbook.
He sat down at breakfast with Terry, Jack, and Elly. The three of them were already happily chattering and stuffing their faces. Alex ignored the food Elly sat on his plate and started reading. The three others exchanged concerned looks.
"Dude, Alex, what's wrong?" Jack pulled the book down and stared at Alex. Alex suddenly found himself facing three very concerned stares, which, rather than their intended effect, frightened him out of his mind.
"I forgot about a homework assignment and a test, and I don't even have time to breathe right now, much less eat breakfast." He put the book back up, signaling the conversation over. Unfortunately, Terry had other ideas.
"So what? You can afford not to study; you have an A in the class." He pulled the book back down. "Besides, you need to eat breakfast." He handed Alex a slice of toast.
Which Alex quite cheerfully dropped onto his plate with the rest of his untouched breakfast. "Yes, I do have an A, and I'd really like to keep it that way, thank you." He went back to reading.
"Terry, just let the kid study." Jack's intervention on Alex's behalf made Alex smile in gratitude.
"Only if he swears that he'll eat breakfast. And to breathe, he'll die if he forgets to do that." Terry said stubbornly. He obstinately crossed his arms and glared at Alex.
Alex sighed loudly. "Fine, I'll eat something." He went back to reading. As he read, he munched on the piece of toast Terry had given him. Once he'd finished his toast, he muttered defiantly, "See? I ate breakfast." He glanced up at Terry, daring him to protest.
Terry took the dare. "One piece of toast does not constitute a breakfast!"
"Whatever. I gotta go." Alex rolled his eyes, took a deep breath, and left the hall. He headed for his class slowly, dragging his feet as though he were headed to his own funeral rather than a simple test that he hadn't studied for. Once he reached the class, he sat down and buried his head in his hands.
The teacher passed out the test and said, "Alright, class. This is the biggest test of the quarter. This will determine fifty percent of your grade in this class." Alex groaned when he heard this. Can this test get any worse? "Alex, are you alright? Did you forget to use the bathroom? Do you need to go see the nurse and take the test next class?"
This would be the perfect way out. He could fake illness then do the readings required for the test during the week. It would be perfect. But...Alex was far too honest for something like that. "No, sir, I'm fine," he said softly. And the test began.
Alex despondently filled out random patterns on the scantron. He figured that if he was going to fail, he could at least do so with style. When he got to the end of the multiple choice questions and on to the essays, he discovered that much to his relief, he could at least get an A on the essay portion of the test. He worked so hard on the questions that he barely remembered to breathe.
He left the class feeling a little better, knowing that he'd at least done beautifully on the essay questions.
* * *
The next week, Alex walked in to class with a feeling of great dread. He sat down in his seat, almost numb with fear. His hands shook; he was as pale as a ghost. Those around him didn't say anything to him; he was always like that before the return of a test paper.
The teacher walked into the room with a frown on his face. "I am terribly disappointed in you guys. There was only one A, two Bs, and five Cs. There were eight Ds, and fourteen Es. That is not acceptable. We'll go over them just as soon as I hand them out. I'm really, really upset with you all. I will be handing the papers out in my normal order, from lowest to highest grade." The teacher began handing back the papers.
Once fourteen papers had been returned, Alex breathed a sigh of relief. At least he'd passed. Eight more were returned, and he relaxed a little. A C then. Not so bad, considering that he hadn't studied. Then five more papers were returned, and Alex still didn't have his paper. A B? Surely, he wasn't that lucky. The two Bs were returned, and he still didn't get his paper. Alex felt like he would faint. It just wasn't possible. Even he wasn't that lucky.
The teacher approached. Alex held his breath. "Congratulations, Alex. You got one hundred percent." He smiled and handed Alex the paper. Alex checked the score, and then fell backwards into a dead faint, having held his breath for far too long.
He woke up in the infirmary. Jason and Terry were both in the room with him. "What happened to you?" Jason asked.
"I got a hundred percent..." Alex trailed off numbly.
"See? I told you you didn't need to study." Terry said, and then burst into laughter.
"But wait! If you got a hundred percent, then why are you in the hospital?" Jason stared down at him, clearly concerned.
Alex flushed sheepishly. "I kinda forgot to breathe..."
It was six o'clock in the morning and Jason, Alex, and Terry had yet to go to sleep. Instead, they'd stayed up all night, talking. About what, none of them could remember, but it had been fun. Alex was half asleep on his bed, watching Jason and Terry compete in an incredibly serious competition. It was deadly. It was a pillow fight.
He watched them, slowly dropping off to sleep. He was rudely awoken by the bell for breakfast. Terry and Jason were already gone, and Alex got up and dressed. As he was dressing, the color left his skin and he closed his eyes. "IDIOT!" he yelled at himself, then smacked his head against the wall. He ran out the door to breakfast and, on the way out, grabbed his World History textbook.
He sat down at breakfast with Terry, Jack, and Elly. The three of them were already happily chattering and stuffing their faces. Alex ignored the food Elly sat on his plate and started reading. The three others exchanged concerned looks.
"Dude, Alex, what's wrong?" Jack pulled the book down and stared at Alex. Alex suddenly found himself facing three very concerned stares, which, rather than their intended effect, frightened him out of his mind.
"I forgot about a homework assignment and a test, and I don't even have time to breathe right now, much less eat breakfast." He put the book back up, signaling the conversation over. Unfortunately, Terry had other ideas.
"So what? You can afford not to study; you have an A in the class." He pulled the book back down. "Besides, you need to eat breakfast." He handed Alex a slice of toast.
Which Alex quite cheerfully dropped onto his plate with the rest of his untouched breakfast. "Yes, I do have an A, and I'd really like to keep it that way, thank you." He went back to reading.
"Terry, just let the kid study." Jack's intervention on Alex's behalf made Alex smile in gratitude.
"Only if he swears that he'll eat breakfast. And to breathe, he'll die if he forgets to do that." Terry said stubbornly. He obstinately crossed his arms and glared at Alex.
Alex sighed loudly. "Fine, I'll eat something." He went back to reading. As he read, he munched on the piece of toast Terry had given him. Once he'd finished his toast, he muttered defiantly, "See? I ate breakfast." He glanced up at Terry, daring him to protest.
Terry took the dare. "One piece of toast does not constitute a breakfast!"
"Whatever. I gotta go." Alex rolled his eyes, took a deep breath, and left the hall. He headed for his class slowly, dragging his feet as though he were headed to his own funeral rather than a simple test that he hadn't studied for. Once he reached the class, he sat down and buried his head in his hands.
The teacher passed out the test and said, "Alright, class. This is the biggest test of the quarter. This will determine fifty percent of your grade in this class." Alex groaned when he heard this. Can this test get any worse? "Alex, are you alright? Did you forget to use the bathroom? Do you need to go see the nurse and take the test next class?"
This would be the perfect way out. He could fake illness then do the readings required for the test during the week. It would be perfect. But...Alex was far too honest for something like that. "No, sir, I'm fine," he said softly. And the test began.
Alex despondently filled out random patterns on the scantron. He figured that if he was going to fail, he could at least do so with style. When he got to the end of the multiple choice questions and on to the essays, he discovered that much to his relief, he could at least get an A on the essay portion of the test. He worked so hard on the questions that he barely remembered to breathe.
He left the class feeling a little better, knowing that he'd at least done beautifully on the essay questions.
* * *
The next week, Alex walked in to class with a feeling of great dread. He sat down in his seat, almost numb with fear. His hands shook; he was as pale as a ghost. Those around him didn't say anything to him; he was always like that before the return of a test paper.
The teacher walked into the room with a frown on his face. "I am terribly disappointed in you guys. There was only one A, two Bs, and five Cs. There were eight Ds, and fourteen Es. That is not acceptable. We'll go over them just as soon as I hand them out. I'm really, really upset with you all. I will be handing the papers out in my normal order, from lowest to highest grade." The teacher began handing back the papers.
Once fourteen papers had been returned, Alex breathed a sigh of relief. At least he'd passed. Eight more were returned, and he relaxed a little. A C then. Not so bad, considering that he hadn't studied. Then five more papers were returned, and Alex still didn't have his paper. A B? Surely, he wasn't that lucky. The two Bs were returned, and he still didn't get his paper. Alex felt like he would faint. It just wasn't possible. Even he wasn't that lucky.
The teacher approached. Alex held his breath. "Congratulations, Alex. You got one hundred percent." He smiled and handed Alex the paper. Alex checked the score, and then fell backwards into a dead faint, having held his breath for far too long.
He woke up in the infirmary. Jason and Terry were both in the room with him. "What happened to you?" Jason asked.
"I got a hundred percent..." Alex trailed off numbly.
"See? I told you you didn't need to study." Terry said, and then burst into laughter.
"But wait! If you got a hundred percent, then why are you in the hospital?" Jason stared down at him, clearly concerned.
Alex flushed sheepishly. "I kinda forgot to breathe..."