A Boy with Freckles
by Janis Gaines
Writing Exercise – Write an embarrassing moment.
I sat in the back of math class, my worst subject. I surely didn’t want the teacher to see me or call on me. I was seventeen, and it was “Spirit Week,” the week before Homecoming at my high school, and every day the students were encouraged to dress in a fun way, different from the norm. One day was Twin Day, or School Colors, or Backwards day. This particular day was Redneck Day. I grew up in the South, a suburb of Atlanta, and this was the home of Jeff Foxworthy during the height of his fame with the “You Might Be A Redneck If…” comedy routine.
On this particular day, a boy sauntered into the room late who fit the challenge to a T. He made a grand entrance with blue jeans, cuffs rolled up, plaid shirt untucked, with a straw hat on. He was even chewing a long, thin reed hanging out the side of his mouth as if he was fresh from the farm.
Impressed with his commitment to the costume, from the back of the room I shouted out for all to hear, ”Wow, look! He’s even added freckles!” I meant to congratulate the guy, yet he gave me an evil side-glance, embarrassed I had called attention to him.
To my horror, as the boy approached his seat, not too far from me, I could clearly see that he had not added freckles, but instead, he had a horrible case of acne.
I wanted to shrink into my chair even further. Now, we were both red in the face. And I wanted nothing more to do with math class.
© November 12, 2016