Personal Narrative: Chosen

Chosen

Sept. 16, 2013                                                     by Kavya

I copied down what the teacher wrote on the board, my left hand tossed on the part of carpet beside me. My textbook was open beside me and my notebook in my lap. Then the sound of the door swaying open then filled my ears. I turned my head, and the counsellor, wearing a light blue collar shirt, two envelopes in his hand, was standing under the doorway.

A butterfly or two flew into my stomach. I knew why he was here. ‘Peer Supporter,’ I thought to myself. It was something I had been waiting for for a time probably as long as three weeks. ‘He is here to tell us who has been chosen for Peer Supporter next year in 5th grade,’ went the voice in my head. I just wanted to figure out who it was that would be selected.

“Can I see…Adam and...Karya please?” he asked, pulling his head up from two white envelopes after pauses.  

Now I felt a wave of excited butterflies glide into my stomach. When he said Karya, I knew he meant me, Kavya. But, still I just sat tight and waited silently for someone to point it out so things didn’t get too confusing. The butterflies in my tummy really set in. It was weird; if he was here for Peer Supporter, I should’ve been really happy-and I was- just in a way where the butterflies were moving at the speed of light.

“We have a Kavya, but not a Karya,” my teacher replied.

“Oh yes, Kavya- it’s Kavya,” Mr. Felice noticed, after tilting his head down to the envelopes again.

Adam and I stood up, leaving our books on the rug.

“Peer Supporter,” I mouthed my suspicion to him as we got up.

“I know,” he mouthed back, grinning from ear to ear.

We had the kind of look you have when you know something big’s going to happen, the face where you are ready to be proud and ecstatic. The excitement on our faces, we both made our way through the doorway. The next seven words were words that would bring amazing things.

The moment we stepped out of the classroom, this happened: “You have been chosen for Peer Supporter,” Mr.Felice disclosed directly, handing us the envelopes.

The small smile that was already planted on my face grew to my cheeks. Adam and I shared a quick glance of joy. We were beaming. For some reason, the butterflies in my stomach swirled around faster, while I imagined going home and sharing the good news with my parents, and what I really achieved. I also thought back at the voting. It meant my classmates thought I was good for the job. The triumph I felt set deep into my heart.

When Adam and I made our way back into the classroom and got back down on the rug, my friend Eunah mouthed to me, ‘Peer Supporter?’

I nodded, trying to pull my lips in, so my smile wouldn’t get too big.