15 for 15 Contest --- Closed

Grandma actually fell asleep during the principal’s speech. Not that Stacy blamed her. The whole graduation was majorly ridiculous. Everyone got an award for something. It was just like in The Incredibles: if everyone was special, then no one was. They even gave out certificates for class participation. How retarded was that?

What she wanted was to get her ears pierced. Instead, her mother paid for band camp. Band camp, of all things. As if playing the oboe didn’t already make her freak, her parents intended to drown her in other freaks.

Her father poked his head into her room. “We got reservations at Le Bernadin. We leave in an hour, got it?” No respect for boundaries. He could’ve knocked first. Stacy didn’t bother to answer. All her friends were meeting up at Dave & Buster’s in Times Square. Her mother wouldn’t even entertain the idea. You’re much too young to be out in midtown by yourself Stacy. “Got it?”

“Yes, I got it. I’m not a moron, you know. I understand English.”

“Don’t take that kind of attitude with me, young lady. When you pay the bills, you can decide where we go.” He slammed her door closed on his way out. Real mature. Now if she’d done that, world-ending crisis.

She stripped out of the cap and gown. A colossal waste of $180. It was a whole head of highlights with enough to spare for a mani-pedi. But at least she didn’t have to worry about B.O. like with a rental.

“Sweetie, come downstairs and say goodbye to Aunt Gertrude and Uncle Michael.” Ugh. Those two didn’t even bring a gift. Wasn’t that the whole point of graduation?

“Coming.” First she had to get out of this itchy dress. Stacy hated it. Her mother loved it, and since her mother paid the bills, as her father so crudely put it, Stacy became the only fourteen-year old dweeb in a Peter Pan collar dress. Spastic central. That’s why she wouldn’t take off the cap and gown for any of the pictures. Preserve that for posterity? Please.

Downstairs, her assorted aunts, uncles and cousins showed no sign of leaving. Great. Probably a few of them, Aunt Janice in particular, would try to wrangle an invite to dinner. The only person she wanted here was her brother, and he was in Afghanistan. Just her luck.

“Valedictorian, eh? Why didn’t you give a speech then? Instead of that rat-faced boy?” Stacy clenched her hands into fists. If she were about fifty pounds heavier, she’d punch her cousin Stewart in the face. Only reason she didn’t, in fact, was that he’d definitely punch her back.

“Aiden is one of Stacy’s very best friends. I think he has a bit of crush on her, right Stacy? She didn’t want to give a speech. Nerves. She gets that from me. I'm not any good at public speaking.” Oh my god could this day get any worse? Yes, she'd admit Aiden mucked up it, staring at his notes the whole time, and no eye contact or anything.

Yet he gave the speech so she wouldn’t have to. Public speaking really did stress her the hell out. There was no way she could have stood in front of all her classmates and spouted the usual nonsense about their bright futures, etc. Not when the Class of 2012 was living proof that while all animals were equal, some animals were deservedly more equal than others.

Her mother was the definition of an unmensch, while Aiden was a class act, a grade-A winner of a human being. And since he was gay, he was also definitely not lusting after her double AAs.

“So do you have a boyfriend yet?”

“Oh no, Stacy’s too young to be dating. Maybe when she turns sixteen.”

The good thing was her mother was a total conversation hog. Stacy only needed to endure forty-seven more minutes before her father kicked everybody out of the house so they could go to dinner. He was crazy punctual like that. She found a corner next to Grandma and attempted to look invisible while texting. Family gatherings were the worst.

"June 20 – Winner"