Spelling Bee

"Spell Dangerous.
Alice licked her lips, looking up at the teacher. Lights shone down upon them, beating on the polished wooden stage. There was her mother, out there in the sea of metal folding chairs. She was leaning forward anxiously in anticipation. And there were her brothers, next to Mother. They were passing a piece of paper back and forth, undoubtedly playing tic-tac-toe. And there was her father. Her father. That was the worst of all. He was leaning back in his chair, seemingly relaxed. But, Alice knew better. She knew he was poised to spring. He always was. One thing wrong¦

"Spell dangerous.
Alice jumped. A few snickers rose from the children seated behind her, waiting for her to fail. "Dangerous. The light beat down on her head and shoulders. The eyes of the audience were fixed on her. "D-A-N-G-- She paused. The audience held their breaths. "E-R-O-U-S. Dangerous. Alice let out a deep breath and slumped a bit in relief as the teacher called out "Correct. She returned to her rickety seat at the back of the stage to await her next turn.

Five more and it would be her turn again. Four. Now only three. Alice tapped her feet in her shiny black Mary Janes. They had been her cousin's and were a bit big in the toe but polished up, they looked new as any. One of her hands reached up to tug a dark pigtail as Thomas Matsen stepped up to the podium. Her mother had put pretty pink ribbons in her hair today. They matched perfectly with the pink dress Mother had sewn her for Easter last year. It was getting a bit short now, but it was still wearable. Thomas walked dejectedly offstage. He had missed aggravate.

The girl next to Alice smiled smugly as she stood up. There were only the two of them left and there was no doubt that that girl thought she would win. She walked primly up to the podium, smoothing her lacy blue dress. Earlier, she had boasted that it was brand-new. Her daddy had bought it especially for the occasion. Her spotless white shoes tapped across the wooden floor. They had bows on the toe. Alice hoped she would trip and fall off the stage. Elizabeth Brinkinton, Little Miss Perfect. Best at everything. Alice would show her this time. Alice White- Spelling Bee Champion. It sounded perfect.

Elizabeth correctly spelled aggravate. Alice shrugged. Aggravate was easy, anyway. Elizabeth gave a perfect curtsy, blonde curls bouncing. Alice wanted to stick out her tongue. Only her father's presence in the audience kept her from doing so.

"Spell Exercise.
Alice swallowed hard. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. "Could you use that in a sentence, please? She croaked, polite as she could manage. She barely heard the answer. It didn't matter anyway. She knew this word. She did. She tried to smile the same way Elizabeth had, but she was feeling more sick than smug. Her mother was staring at her expectantly. Her brothers were passing a paper back and forth. Her father was raking his hands through his hair.

"Exercise. Her stomach roiled as if were about to explode. "E--X-E-R- She took a deep, shaking breath. Her mother's hands were clasped in her lap. Her brothers' note passing slowed. Her father had stopped moving his hands. They were tangled in his hair.

"S- Her mother's eyes widened. Her brothers looked up from their note passing. Her father's hands gripped his hair. That was wrong. It was, but there was no changing it now. "I-Z-E. Exercise. She barely heard the announcement of "Incorrect! She didn't need it. Elizabeth stepped forward to spell and looked over at her questioningly. The teacher was looking at her too. She couldn't move. The lights beat down on her and the audience's eyes stared at her. They knew she had failed. She had misspelled. The children behind the curtains giggled softly.

She stepped back and let blue eyed, curly headed, oh so adorable, Little Miss Elizabeth Perfect take her place. There was nothing else to do except hope that she would miss it, too. Alice crossed her fingers, staring holes in the other girl's back. Her mother's eyes had narrowed and her hands were clutched in her lap. One brother held the paper in his hands while the other nudged him impatiently. Her father's arms were folded across his chest.

"Exercise. E-X-E-R-C-I-S-E. Exercise. Elizabeth's spotless white shoes twitched on the polished wood stage. "Correct. Elizabeth turned around to look at Alice, smiling snobbishly. Alice stuck out her tongue. She didn't care who saw now. She had already lost. She lost.

The scene wavered behind a film of tears. Elizabeth accepted her trophy, her blue skirt swirling as she bounced her excitement. Elizabeth's family bounded onto the stage. Her mother hugged her and her father patted her back proudly. Her perfect little sisters were goggling at the trophy, swishing their frilly little skirts.

"Sorry. Alice whispered, her hands clutching at her faded pink dress, worn hand-me-down shoes shifting around on the wooden floor, pink ribbons shivering with her shaking shoulders. Alice's mother's head rested on her chest. Her brother's hands lay still in their laps, the paper forgotten on the floor. Her father's fingers ran menacingly around his belt. Alice knew what that meant. She hardly noticed the teacher placing the second-place medal around her neck, and the other children coming back onstage to stand around her. She hardly noticed the applause.

"I'm sorry.