Under Pressure

• Rebecca Durrant, Grade 10, Park Ridge State High School
• Short Story
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

I sit at the back of my boring Life Skills class in the last period of the day. Our teacher, “Mr Pressure”, is drilling in the importance of our futures and the decisions that we make. I personally think that pressuring high school students should be banned!
School is all kids have ever known. When you’ve done the same thing for so long, how do people expect you to make snappy decisions? I look over to see my friends chatting excitedly over their chosen careers: Kelly’s smart, so she’s doing journalism, and Hannah the artist is doing photography.
“The choices you make today influence your future, so pick wisely!” Mr Pressure yells to a room the size of a chicken pen. “Olivia, collect the books?” he suddenly screams at me. The bell begins to ring and I leave sluggishly, as my peers dance out.
“What’re ya doin after school?” Grace, asks, her bright blue eyes indicating her dream of being a model is well within her reach.
“I dunno. Stop with the pressure!” I snap.
“What pressure?” she stutters.
“Everyone knows what they’ll do, but me!” My voice sounds uncomfortably harsh.
Looking at her feet, Grace murmurs uncertainly, “I just meant what’re you doin…you know, after school…today?”
“Oh…” I say embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll just go…” Grace muttered, hurriedly walking past me.
Perfect! Now the pressure has cost me friends. I walk, dragging my feet to grandma’s car. “Hello,” I sigh, flopping dramatically into the passenger seat.
“What’s the matter, love?” she asks.
“School was pressuring us about choosing our future again.”
“Oh Oli, don’t stress. I generally find that if you relax, decisions often make themselves,” she adds.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when I was your age, I wasn’t that good at school and didn’t know what I wanted to do. I was just confused,” she starts.
She’s literally repeating my thoughts. Does she bug my brain?
“But look at me now. Despite struggling at school, I’ve been a successful businesswoman. I’ve lived a full life and didn’t need a school telling me what I could and couldn’t do,” she finishes, smiling. Gran is pure sunshine! She’s brightens even the cloudiest of my days.
“Really?” I ask, cheering up.
“Yes! Now, come on…I’m taking you to our café!”
When I was younger, we would go there and eat cupcakes until our stomachs burst. The staff always welcomed us, as if we were family. The Dynamo’s Café was like my favourite beanie – it gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. It was a place where I felt comfortable and accepted.
We pull up and I jump out and run inside. “Hello Glenda!” I yell, wrapping my arms around the rotund waitress.
“Livvy!” she exclaims. “How’ve you been, my darling?”
“Great!” I lie. I didn’t want her to worry about my silly problems.
“Apart from a school crisis!” Grandma butts in, as she kisses Glenda on the cheek.
“Oh shame,” Glenda fusses with concern. “What crisis?”
“Oh, it’s nothing…”
“She’s worried about her future. They’re bringing out the university booklets!” Grandma chuckles.
Curse the elderly and their blabber mouths.
“Well, what are you thinking?” Glenda asks.
I swear, if one more person asks me that, I’ll scream.
“Have you ever thought about the food industry?” Glenda asks.
Suddenly I had a light bulb moment. Ever since I was little, I’d played restaurants. Gran was right. The answer was in front of me the whole time. I look up to see my grandma smiling intently.
“Didn’t I say you’d find your way?”