“So, are you an honors student?” I asked the boy. At the age of 18, he was hardly a boy, but our age gap made the term feel right for me.
“Nah, I sometimes get failing grades,” he replied in his usual cheeky manner.
“That’s good,” I said.
“Huh? Why is that good?” He asked, confusion written all over his face. Most people, he knew, would have said that getting anything less than straight A’s is a bad thing.
I took a deep breath before answering. “Because then, people will expect less from you, including yourself,” I intoned, feeling a tug in my heart even as these words spilled from my mouth. “You won’t feel so pressured to be successful. And if you fail at something, you won’t be so hard on yourself.” And it won’t hurt as much, I thought.
“You’re right,” he agreed, nodding his head. “Were you an honors student?” he asked me.
“Yes,” I replied sadly.
This post is part of the A to Z Challenge, a blog hop that goes through the alphabet for all the days of April except Sundays.