I spent half the day on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, sitting on a stiff chair in front of my entire school. Then I had to give a speech, explaining to everyone why they should elect me school treasurer. Actually, I had to give the speech twice, since the auditorium wasn’t big enough to hold all the grades at once and they came in two groups. You’d think the second time would’ve been less nerve-racking than the first, but to be honest it was even worse.

I actually wasn’t too afraid to talk in front of the first group, the sixth and seventh graders. But when it came time to give my speech to the eighth grade—my grade—suddenly that hard seat seemed pretty cozy. It didn’t help that the assistant principal almost called me Britney Spears in her introduction. In the second before I stood up, my mind raced: What if I trip on my way to the podium? What if I faint? What if I’m heckled by the crowd?

None of those things happened. I got up to the lectern and read my speech, only stumbling over a word or two. The experience was considerably surreal. I did not hear anyone talking or laughing or randomly clapping or yelling while I spoke, which was odd, since they had done so during the speeches before mine. I finished my speech…and people actually clapped and cheered. I was totally caught off guard. It was bliss. I tried not to smile on my way back to my seat but did not exactly succeed, so I ended up with some kind of bizarre smirk/frown. Still, nothing ruined how I felt. ♦