Cast Doubt
Left arm wrapped in a bright yellow cast, I marched into my first-grade classroom, brandishing my shattered wrist for all to see.
“Can I sign it?”
For the next three weeks, I was a celebrity. Elected line leader, I paraded my troops across campus, signatures and doodles adorning my casted arm. But it turns out, I wasn’t the celebrity: the cast was.
Castless, I asked Molly, the prettiest girl in class, what she thought about my now-splinted arm.
“Your breath smells like barf.”
To the back of the line I went, with the rest of the W’s, X’s and Y’s.
— Adam Xu, 16, Saratoga High School, Saratoga, Calif.
Impromptu Party
Beyoncé blasting through the phone, the midday pajama party is in full force. My sister and I jump, jig, gyrate. Our feet stir an earthquake — this time the downstairs-neighbors have surely had enough. “Aye!!!” Notes spill from my mouth, reverberating off the bedroom walls. My sis hits a mean nae-nae; I mirror it. “GURL! Turn this up!”
A knock on the door. Suddenly, I’ve become a statue mid-two-step. Wide eyes locking, we scramble to hit pause. We’re deers in headlights — frozen and bracing for impact. Mom’s stern face peers through the crack. “Y’all playing Queen B and I wasn’t invited!?”
— Alexander Wu, 17, High School for Mathematics, Science and Engineering, New York, N.Y.
Baby Tim
6 p.m.: The words “I dare you” were muttered at an empty park. 6:05 p.m.: I slid my legs into a baby swing. 6:15 p.m.: My friends and I laughed hysterically as my legs dangled. 6:30 p.m.: I was stuck. 7 p.m.: No one called for a parent in fear of stark punishment. 7:30 p.m.: My legs became red and numb, but we finally called a parent. 8 p.m.: The fire truck arrived with baby oil and bolt cutters. 8:15 p.m.: Freedom. Four years later: My friends still call me “Baby Tim.”
— Timothy, 15, Derry Area High School, Derry, Pa.
Imperial System
When my family and I hurriedly left Shanghai for Boston, I only had a day to say goodbye to my boyfriend. The torment of a three-month long lockdown lingered. After he let me cry into his shoulder for hours, he said, “Y’know that America still uses the imperial system, right?” I laughed and said yes. We were supposed to graduate together, go to prom together, have dates by the Bund together. But I never imagined my first love ending like this: watching his figure shrink from my car window, the distance between us growing from meters to miles.
— Jessica Zhang, 17, Northfield Mount Hermon, Mount Hermon, Mass.
