We moved in the middle of 8th grade, which, as I’m sure you can imagine, was already traumatic enough. I was generally well-liked at my old school so I wasn’t enthusiastic about leaving. The new school had an impenetrable social hierarchy and I mostly stayed under the radar-- didn’t make too many friends, but also wasn’t targeted for any specific harassment.
Summer was right around the corner and yearbook season had arrived. And I’m sure it’s pretty much the same everywhere, people writing “2 GOOD 2 BE 4GOTTEN!” and “SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!” You might be surprised to learn that I got a decent number of people to sign my yearbook, with most of the entries something along the lines of “Wish we’d gotten to know each other better!”
So anyway I’m sitting in Social Studies when someone walks up to my desk and asks me to sign their yearbook. I look up and who do I see standing next to me but one of the hottest, most popular girls. I kept my cool and with perfect composure asked to borrow her pen. She hands it over and, what the #*&#, I can't get the #*( cap off. I twist, I pull, it’s not budging. I try to use the side of the desk as leverage, nothing.
I’m starting to stress out a little because this isn’t going as well as I wanted, so I give it one more pull with all my strength. AH SWEET RELEASE! But the severe jerking motion left me with the cap in my hand and the point of the pen firmly embedded in hers. She had to go to the nurse and I never did sign her yearbook, possibly because I died of embarrassment that day.