I was practically twitching with nerves now. Was she going to give me one? I had not been asked to a party since I’d moved to the school, I really wanted to go. And anyway, I’d asked her to my getting-to-know-you party so I’d almost definitely secured a place, hadn’t I?
She came towards me, slow motion. Each stride slower than the previous. I could hear each footstep as though it was concrete on concrete. Over she came, and removed the white envelope from her hand. The final white envelope. She leant over and out I held my hand, ready to accept this envelope with all the love I had in me.
“Wait what just happened?” I asked myself. Why did she just give that to Philip and not me? I searched her hands with my eyes frantically, there must be one left. She’d asked everyone in the class but me, there MUST be one left, surely she couldn’t leave me out… I’d asked her to my party after all.
I could not see one and the overwhelming feeling of rejection hit me like a ball of lead. She looked me in the eye, and sat down. I felt so hurt and shocked, and humiliated even, like I’d been in a trance and received a cold slap. The harsh realisation slowly melted in, trickled in, and I slumped back down.
I looked around the classroom, everyone ravenously and savagely tearing open their invites, each of them glancing at me, mocking me with the fact that they had their invite, and I didn’t.
I wasn’t going to cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I told myself. It’s not a big deal, perhaps she forgot you were there. I felt a lump rise in my throat, stuck like a piece of sandpaper, teasing and tickling. I felt a tear escape, it burnt my face and trickled down until I quickly wiped it away.
Children can be cruel, and it was a lesson I learnt the hard way, I can assure.