It was a normal Monday morning in late november San Francisco; Foggy, cold  and accompanied with a dash of dreadfulness. It was T-Minus three (and a half or so) weeks to the first semester final examination period, and you could practically see the negative effect it had on the students. Eyes droopy from late night study sessions, backs bent over from long hours at a desk; natural symptoms of upcoming final exams.

My morning’s first class was French 1,2, the French class for the newbies of the language. The mood was that of which usually comes from dreary monday mornings: slightly depressing and thought repressing. My class and I had just stepped into the classroom and were making our way towards our desks, chatting away the few minutes we had before prayer and the beginning of class. Except for me though, I was busy being the approachable and social adolescent that I am, spending this time period reading, strolling off on my computer or finishing homework assignments that I neglected to complete the night before.

Quickly, my teacher began prayer after the clock struck the 7:55 mark, throwing snappy words (sometimes in French) at students who had yet to put away what they were doing. After a short prayer in French, the teacher began class with a curt announcement: we were to begin working on our spoken exams.

It was simple, we got to pick partners and then had to write a conversation using all the vocabulary we learned about from the beginning of the year to the present day. Each pair of students had to present in front of the class, with an allowed one piece of paper (featuring words in English only).

Sounds easy, right? Well yeah, it wasn’t a very hard assignment at all. I felt anxious at the sound of this project, but the student behind me who I knew regarded me as a friend was a perfect candidate for a partner for this project  (let the name bestowed upon him be Abdoulaye!). This is where the problem started though. One of my friends, a boy named Lucas, (a friend that I talked to and met with outside of French class) gave me the I-need-you-to-be-my-partner-for-this-project eyes the instant the teacher started her announcement for the project. The moment the teacher told us to find and choose a partner, he fast-walked over to me and sat in an empty next to me, suddenly proclaiming,

“Wotcher there, Nick you classy gent, wut say you and I pad along for this good god goldy assignment? I need a good bunch of help in this, and I know for a true fact that you’ve got the assets in your solid cranium to help me!”.
Expecting this, I said with little to no confidence, “Hip hip I’d say good sir Lucas, but good god I know without a single foot length of a doubt that you done undoubtedly have no care for this class! You have not a great deal of a good interest in your grade for this assignment, and I need to have a top notch for this, my good old chap!”
I knew that my friend was planning on transferring out of the class into a Mandarin language class next year, and that he didn’t need a good grade in French to keep going. I also realized that he wasn’t the best in this class, and wanted my help since he knew that my grades were good in French and that I understood what I was doing. However, the student behind me was above average at speaking and understanding French, so I could have him be my partner and get a better grade than if I was a partner with Lucas.

What made this worse was that I’m the type of person that gets guilty easily and will typically overthink consequences, so I was quickly contemplating better grades and a better friendship with Abdoulaye, or a loss in trust and face with Lucas. I was unsure of what to do, usually I didn’t have enough friends to have this sort of problem. I saw not choosing Lucas as a potential destruction of our already sorta weak friendship, but I really wanted that good grade since I knew my parents wanted me to succeed, and I did too.

When the time came for me to choose, I chose Abdoulaye, and left Lucas to deal with the project with another partner. After class, I spoke to Lucas and told him I was sorry that I didn’t pick him, but he reassured me that it was fine and that he would deal with it. I knew he was mad, but didn’t press him

Was I selfish? Yes, a bit. But it would have been selfish on Lucas’ part too for bringing me down because he wanted a better grade. When the exams finally came, Abdoulaye and my conversation was fine, and so was Lucas’s. I got a good grade, and Lucas probably did too. This story’s importance to me though, is how I learned how to think of myself for once and focus on what I need, not what my friend needs. For most of my life, I did a lot of things for other people, never really rejecting somebody for my own benefit. The incident with Lucas was the first time I really ditched somebody in the dirt, leaving them behind to start their own business. I’m glad I did it though. It gave me a full understanding of leaving somebody behind and how it can sometimes help you. But hey, I got a good grade and Lucas is still my friend anyways, so win-win?