By Eleni Andonatos Schellenburg
I was staring at the screen; my phone just kept ringing.
On the third call, I picked up.
She was sniffling and hyperventilating,
Her broken breath wheezing in the mic.
The next test was tomorrow, and she felt
Pressure in her chest. I put her on speakerphone
And muted myself.
She rambled on, “I’ll surely fail, but I can’t focus!”
She cried, too weak to hold a book or a pen.
And she wondered why I was silent.
Finally, we wrote the test. There she was, surrounded.
“It was easy,” she smirked, “More so than the last!”
And with the highest grade in the class,
The teacher praised her for her hard work.
I examined my paper,
Covered in deep crimson.
The teacher thought I hadn’t studied,
But I just couldn’t focus at all.