The Girl at the Pool - Part 3

So after my little ''outburst'', I stomped out of the auditorium, and started crying in the halls. It was bad. Luckily, I had a true friend with me, and she walked out to comfort me. She had just come to spectate, but she ended up taking on the role of psycho-therapist. She persuaded me to come back in for the team rankings. I listened to this wonderful, kind person, who would later prove to me that, even though she is a North American girl, she has some serious backbone. Anyways, I walked back into the awards ceremony, they announced the top teams, and my partner and I got best team. I didn't want to take my award because I have a lot of honour, dignity, pride, ego, sense of justice etc.. The North American girl was on my side, but this snazzy guy -who thinks he is really cool- came up to me with all his swagger and was all like (in an extremely sensual voice) "don't be a sore loser, go up there and accept your prize", then he sort of nudged my shoulder, and I was up at the ribbon area.

My partner and I were standing there, and they gave us these ribbons. Then they tried to shake our hands, my partner did shake hands with them, I simply could not find it in me to do that to such assholes. I took my ribbon, stuffed it in my bag, and I was out of the auditorium, to have a good cry. I ran around the enormous, foreign school, trying to find somewhere where no one could find me. I succeeded, and found refuge in the gym, which was unlocked and empty. I layed down on the gym floor, and threw my ribbon of first place through one of the basketball hoops. It got stuck in the netting, and I didn't want to get it.

After about 10 minutes, I decided that it would be time for me to go back. After all, my new debate coach - Mr. Forman, who is a champion swimmer who enjoys teaching debate- had kindly offered to drive me home that night, so that I wouldn't be subject to Vancouver's treacherous transportation system. Once I got back, I found a bunch of the people from my school and my partners schools quietly talking. I still don't know what about, but I my guess is as good as yours. I was greeted by Mr. Forman, who was going to drive me home, and told by him that I needed to apologize.

"Apologize to who?" I asked.

"To the tournament directors." He responded.