Seattle winters rarely see snow. They do, however, see relentlessly reappearing rain showers that chill to the bone. On the final Monday before Christmas vacation began, the cold drizzle cut Jordan to the core as she quickly walked up the path to the impressive glass and steel entrance of BCS.
Over the preceding several weeks, the tall girl with the shameful secret had had more than her share of traumatic life-events. Between the bedwetting, sleep apnea testing, drug-store diaper trips, bullying at school, stress with her father’s affair, and the ‘wicked stepmother’, it had been easy to be distracted from the news about the NPR story competition she had entered. It had only been during those late lonely hours at night or boring hours in class that her mind had wandered back to the subject – I wonder what’s happening with my story? When will I hear something? I’d like to hear some news at all; ANY news!
That particular Monday morning before Christmas break, the tall brunette decided to approach her increasingly aloof English teacher for better or for worse. To her surprise, as had happened once before, when Jordan asked Mr. Johns if he’d heard any updates, he only offered a goofy grin and said that she’d have to wait. Jordan assumed that that once again meant good news – and that like before, it’d be delivered at the end of class.
This time around, she didn’t have to wait that long.
During attendance and announcements, Mr. Johns happily declared, “Class, I’ve received some exciting news about one of your fellow classmates – and she hasn’t even been let in on it yet. About a month ago, someone in this room submitted a short story to that NPR competition I told you all about.” Students in the room looked around in confusing but also smiling and eyeing each other. Jordan’s heart began to beat harder.
“Well, over the weekend, I got a letter in my box saying that this student’s story has advanced in the competition to the second round!!” An audible gasp was heard throughout the room as kids looked more expectantly around the room. Jordan’s heart was beating rapidly and her face flushed. She could hardly smile she was so excited.
Is it mine? She wondered, Could it really be my story that won?
“This student, from 7th grade here at BCS had her’s,” He said ‘HER’s’ Jordan thought excitedly to herself, “was the top story chosen from the State of Washington and our local NPR affiliate wants to record her reading it’s own version of the story on the air for it’s local show in the next couple weeks!” Students in the room were giddy with excitement.
“Who is it?” some exclaimed.
“Tell us Mr. Johns!!!” others shouted.
“The name of this particular secret and talented author is…,” he waited, attempting to build anticipation, “Ms. Jordan Reynolds.”
Another gasp of shock reverberated through the room as all eyes moved to the tall brunette in the corner. She smiled brightly – her face as red as stop sign and sweat beading on her forehead.
Before either she or Mr. Johns had any time to say anything however, Jordan’s classmates burst into applause, conversation, smiles, encouraging laughter, and kind gestures. They seemed genuinely excited for her and the news. Jordan herself felt as though she was going to faint. Part of her had known that this was going to happen, but part of her couldn’t believe that it was finally becoming real. She felt proud and happy and terrified and shy all at the same time.
This probably means they’re all gonna read my story now – that’s kinda a terrifying thought.
After class, Mr. Johns told her about how NPR had already called and left a message on his machine about getting the story recorded for airing on the radio – they wanted it to happen that week with the holidays approaching.
“So do you think you’ll really want to do the narration yourself or have one of NPR’s DJs do it for you? Either way is ok I guess.” He asked.
“Wait, what? I have a choice?” she replied, thinking rapidly wondering whether or not she ought to try to get out of it.
“Well, when we make it to Washington D.C….,” wait…I guess I should say “if” shouldn’t I?, the teacher thought to himself, “they’ll have professional actors reading your material for you. But here in Seattle, the station needs to get your story into audio form as soon as possible and so it actually gave you the choice. It needs to be recorded one way or another by someone reading it aloud. You can do that if you want or we can just have someone at NPR do it. What’d’ya think?”
“Oh…hmmm,” the thought of reading it herself sounded scary but strangely exciting, “…I think I’ll do it.”
“Cool. Alright well I’ll get something set up and let you know.”
“Ok.” She said, turning to walk out of the room.
“And Jordan?” He said – the tall girl looking over her shoulder in response. “Congratulations!! I knew you could do it!!”
She smiled, “Thanks Mr. Johns!”