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“That was going to be me,” Mendel though, reflecting disdainfully on his friends who, unlike him, were steadily being accepted by their prospective colleges, one by one: he was jealous.

* * *

Ever since Mendel had been to elementary school, he had been everyone's go-to guy when it came to needing help with schoolwork. Although he felt used sometimes, he loved the way people depended upon and admired him; it was for this reason that he didn’t ask for anything in return.

As he made his way into high school, everything started to change: He was not depended on anymore – not like before. Mendel was simply a sharp young teenager in a world of perceptive geniuses; and while he continued to do well as a freshman, he began to lose motivation. He would study a little less and procrastinate a little more. Before he knew it, Mendel was lost in a sea of academic mediocrity; he struggled trying to make his way to shore, but eventually he drowned. Mendel was an average student.

* * *

Mendel fingered lazily through the stack of letters he had just retrieved. He tossed each piece of mail down one after the other: the hydro bill, a grocery flyer, another bill. Just as he began to lose interest something caught his eye: Mendel Tilks, the letter read in bold letters; it was just a bank statement. Mendel sighed and tossed it on kitchen table with the rest of what he saw as meaningless reminders. He slunk away to his bedroom and slacked his way through his remaining homework.

The next day at school Mendel was as hopeless as ever. While he had been filing through a small stack of disappointment the previous afternoon, one of his close friends had received his third offer of admissions letter; Mendel had received his second rejection a few nights earlier. The rest of the school day felt as boring and as tedious as ever: Mendel went from english to science to math, and finally, to history, writing note after wrist-clenching note, feeling as though he’d learnt nothing but a new level of frustration.

After the final bell had rung, signalling authoritative liberation, Mendel made his way outside to the parking lot where a predictable row of buses was waiting. Although he usually took the bus home, Mendel didn’t feel like talking to anyone, especially his friends, who Mendel believed were undoubtedly going to leave him behind the following year. He gazed upwards into a bright blue sky that engulfed his perspective from all angles. He was mildly relieved of the nice weather that would accompany him on his lengthy trek home.

As he reached the front door of his cozy three-story townhouse, Mendel was sweating immensely, marvelling at the irony of his preconceived notion of a nice day; even the weather was rejecting him. He lifted up the wooden lid of his mailbox and blindly grabbed what felt like a newspaper. He carefully let the lid fall back into place and made his way inside. He stepped on the backs of his faded navy blue cross trainers and pulled his feet out, one by one, kicking his shoes under the coat rack. He made his way past the living room and into the kitchen, tossing the newspaper onto the counter and grabbing a bottle of water. He began drinking so intensely that he didn’t seem to notice, or care, that some of the liquid was dripping past the corners of his mouth and onto his shirt. As he turned to place the empty bottle into the recycling bin, something caught his eye. A letter had fallen out of the newspaper and onto the floor near his feet.

It was a letter for him: from York University. Although it wasn’t his first choice for college, it most certainly was not his last. He bent down and retrieved it from the cool tiled floor. A sudden nervousness passed over him, slowing his actions considerably. Hours seemed to pass before Mendel finally ripped his finger through the last bit of the envelope. He pulled the letter free, unfolded it and began to read that life-changing first sentence:

“We are pleased to announce that we have accepted you, Mendel Tilks, as a prospective student to our institution.”

In that solitary moment he caught up with the rest of the world. He was no longer frozen, staring at the backs of those who started the race without him. But alas, Mendel found himself struggling for air in a sea of mediocrity, but this sea was vast and beautiful. This current was leading somewhere.

SevenWritez

I really had no issues with the writing or style here. The pacing was nice and steady, the imagery was clear but not suffocating, and the character was a believable one. I believe, if you wanted, you could extend this into quite a long (and good), story. Either way, nice job.

Olly Buckle

The bank letter was only a wind up, I expected some significance there. Don't quite get it, he was struggling in a sea of mediocrity, he drowned, he got the letter which changed everything but he is still struggling in a sea of mediocrity, why is this suddenly OK?

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Roxane

I dissagree with Mr.Buckle, it made sense to me at least, its Ok because he got into college anyway. The bank letter makes his whole life seem more out of order, so maybe it does have a point. could be nice to have a conversation with the friends he is jealous at etc.