Hidden Talent

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One long September day in Mrs. Crass’s Science class, Steve was sitting at his desk, scowling at the stringy, creepy teacher in front of him. She was going on and on about chemistry or something, but that didn’t matter. Steve had an essay due for his English class and he had no idea what to write about. He cringed at the thought of his almost evil teacher, Mr. Rimerez, creeping over his shoulder and looking at what was currently a blank page with no ink on it. Mr. Rimerez was the strictest, meanest teacher in the school and Steve knew He would give him one of his glares. His glares pounded itself into your skull and you knew nothing good was going to happen once you got one of them. You could feel his eyes focusing on you even if you weren’t looking at him. Steve needed a topic and an essay, fast.

Steve looked around the room, scanning posters and papers with his eyes hoping to find something useful. It was no use though. The only things around the room consisted of Einstein and frogs, except for an empty box of panda express orange chicken that was sitting on the Mrs. Crass’s desk. But then Steve got an idea. An Idea for a fiction story so original and funny he might be able to pass it off as a decent paper. Beaming, Steve propped his big bulky science textbook on its side to hide him from the sight of the teacher, took out a pen and a piece of paper, and started to write.

The ideas for his story flowed together perfectly, like water flowing down a waterfall. Steve wrote for a good thirty minutes, feeling like he would never stop. However, just as he was reaching the conclusion of his paper, the bell rang and cut through his thoughts like a knife. “Oh crap.” He thought. Only one more class separated him and the awful Mr. Rimerez. He knew he was probably screwed, but he thought he might have a shot at getting a low 70 on his paper if he tweaked it a little. During social studies, Steve finished and perfected his paper by fixed grammar mistakes and adding as much figurative language as he could. Mr. Rimerez loved his similes and metaphors. As he was editing his last word, the bell rang, time for LA, and Mr. Rimerez.

He walked into Mr. Rimerez’s class shaking like a leaf. He knew that if he got one more failing grade on an assignment, he would fail the class and have to take it over in summer school. His mind was racing so fast he thought it was going to explode.


“CLASS LISTEN UP!” He said his booming voice that echoed off the walls.



“Pass your essays to the front of the class with your name and the date on them.”



The class passed up there essays at once, which were all nicely formatted and typed, except for Steve’s of course. When he saw Steve’s paper, Mr. Rimerez gave Steve the dreaded glare. Steve gulped.












“THIS IS RIDICULOUS! SEE ME AFTER CLASS!” Mr. Rimerez barked at Steve, who was trying to sink into the bottom of his chair and disappear.

After class, Mr. Rimerez was silently scanning over Steve’s paper as he sat in silence, waiting for the lecture that was soon to come. But instead of a lecture, something else happened. Mr. Rimerez’s angry scowl vanished and his face was flooded with a surprised expression.












“You know, this is actually pretty good Steve.” Mr. Rimerez said.






“It is?”

















“Yeah it is. So good that ill just mark it 10 points late if you bring it typed tomorrow.”

Steve was shocked. Not only had he just received his only comment from Mr. Rimerez all year, but usually Mr. Rimerez jumped at the chance to take points of off Steve’s papers. This paper must have actually been pretty good.








“Thanks.” Steve said.











“No problem. This is the only time I’ll ever let you get away with this though. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”







Steve left his L.A. classroom with a wide grin for the first time all year.

After getting let off the hook by Mr. Rimerez, Steve decided that he was going to send his story to an online competition to see if it could win. The competition had a prize too. The prize was $50.00, enough for Steve to buy the new Volcom skateboard he saw in the Skate shop downtown. The thought of cruising down town on that thing put a wide grin on his face.

Later that night, Steve went online and submitted his story. After he submitted it he waited anxiously for the results. The letter with the results took only a week to reach his house, but everyday Steve had to wait for it felt like at least two weeks to him. After it arrived, With anxiety and suspense, Steve opened the letter with the precision and caution of a surgeon, as if he was afraid he would rip the letter. When he saw the results, his happy face expression saddened a little. He got second place and a consolation prize of $25.00. It wasn’t what he expected, but he was content with it. Maybe he wouldn’t get his new skateboard yet, but at least he found himself a new talent and a new fun hobby. And who knows, maybe he could even patch up his tattered relationship with old Mr. Rimerez.





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