When I say I have multiple nemeses, I’m not really joking. I have always had a somewhat… troubled relationship with people. And I don’t mean just nasty classmates who would tease me or co-workers who seem to go out of their way to make my day long. I mean that in high school, I had teachers who would fuck with me.
The latter half of my senior year is a blurry mess, partially because at that point I was exhausted and partially because forgetting is the only way to move forward, right? But I was a member of the National Honor Society, something I eventually jettisoned because of time commitments and because the president was a hardcore Christian who led prayer circles in class. Not my cup of tea, really. (This may be a good time to point out that some classmates were approached by my grandmother at church and asked to pray for my soul with her.)
Anyway, so I stopped doing National Honor Society activities until one day when the president called me to tell me that, because I didn’t have enough NHS credits or something, I wouldn’t graduate as a member. It got a bit ugly, and I hung up on him. And he called me back. The next day, I asked the teacher in charge of NHS about it, and she informed me that my scholarship would probably be revoked because I had been accepted based on the fact that I was an NHS member. Since this was late on a Friday afternoon, I couldn’t call the college to confirm. So I gritted my teeth and spent a Saturday working with Habitat for Humanity.
On Monday, my college said that was the most ridiculous threat they’d ever heard of.
Six months later, I heard from a friend whose mother worked at the school that it had all been an elaborate hoax, and they just wanted to take me down a peg or two. Teachers. Teachers wanted to take a 17-year-old down a peg or two.
That year also ended with a classmate passing me a note before our final exam, in which he said he’d always admired me until he got to know me better and saw what a horrible person I was. Needless to say, I did not attend my graduation.