My town has a horrible secret, and it all begins with a test (Part 1)

For many kids, tests can feel like life or death ? the balance of your future hanging precariously on a single grade. Dreams of success can abscond in a moment, a more dreary path emerging into view. Test anxiety is born out of fear of failure, one that extends far beyond the walls of the school.
The truth is, these fears are unfounded. A single test will never dictate your future, because when a door closes a window opens ? always. That is, unless you grew up where I did.
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?Team captains, are we ready?? An obese gym teacher known as Coach Burns, or Coach Biggie Not Smalls as we called him behind his back, yelled menacingly at my class, beads of sweat already dripping down his flabby neck.
My team captain, Jamarcus, was a natural-born leader ? as intelligent as he was strong. Even beneath his baggy sweats, his chiseled physique was apparent. Everyone loved Jamarcus, except me.
?Ready sir!? In unison, Jamarcus and his counterpart Bryant replied, their voices brimming with confidence.
?Alright then ? begin!? Begin was Coach Burns' favorite word because it meant his work for done, for the moment at least.
A series of orange rubber balls bifurcated the gym, and like medieval soldiers, we stormed fearlessly into the fray, yelling like men (and women) possessed. The rival team mirrored our charge, just as they were also taught to do.
Volleys rained down on each side, it was an honest-to-god hail of rubber. The initial volleys took out almost half the class, many of them considered exceptionally weak by the community. Those relegated to the sidelines looked utterly defeated, eyes wide and bodies trembling.
Although not the strongest or the most agile, I had the mind of a frenetic tactician. I succeeded by outmaneuvering my foes and allies at any cost. I was of the mindset that the ends justified the means, always.
Despite being set up as a team game, the majority of us played as individuals ? if the team won that was just a byproduct of selfish intent. Those who finished in the top five, regardless of team, would be placed in the ?Alpha Squadron?, a daunting task in a class of seventy-five.
Being an Alpha was everything, more than that.
After five minutes it was down to twelve students left, seven for us and five for the other. Although outnumbered, those remaining against us were no pushovers. Ronald, the tallest in our class, was a skilled athlete who had dreams of competing against the world. There was also Sarah, a spry gymnast whose agility and wit kept her constantly at the top of the class. And of course, there was Bryant, the only one in my class I had even a modicum of respect for.
?Let's finish off these ****s, and if it comes to it, I?ll deal with the rest of you too.? My teammate Janessa, strands of auburn hair wildly strewn across her face, chipped in with her typical arrogance.
The majority of the balls lay in enemy territory, so despite our numbers, we did not hold every advantage. Some semblance of caution was necessary, but I knew that this sentiment was not shared by everyone ? that was my advantage.
"We need to finish them off before they have a chance to regroup ? quickly!? I piped up, hoping to rile up the idiots amongst us.
Janessa and Ryan, two incredibly brash and cocky individuals, rushed forward without a second thought ? just as I had planned. The rest of us remained back, Jamarcus unsurprisingly seeing through my ruse.
Bryant nodded silently towards his team, as I suspected, he was prepared. Scooping up a handful of balls, Sarah gracefully leaped into the air, hoisting herself atop Ronald?s enormous frame. She kicked several of them high into the air with severe backspin, their trajectory never in doubt.
Having to defend an attack from above, my compatriots were forced to shield the incoming volley ? leaving their midsections wide open. They were without backup, so what happened next was a foregone conclusion. After several precise strikes, the two sullenly walked off the court, glaring at me with such hate I could taste it.
?You?re such a slimeball Aaron, that?s why you?re screwed if you don?t place today. Wouldn?t that be a treat to see?? Jamarcus? words dripped with poison, whispering only loud enough for me to hear.
?As the old saying goes, takes one to know one ? *******.? Unlike Jamarcus, I was not one to say things quietly.
Imbued with new momentum, Bryant?s team decided it was their time to strike. Since we were kids, we?d been trained to detect weakness and destroy it. This act was as normal as breathing for us, maybe even more so. These lessons in mind, Bryant and his team acted almost out of instinct.
Just as the enemy readied themselves to throw, a forceful push sent me tumbling forward. Several people began cheering from the sideline, greedily awaiting my demise. Planting my heel awkwardly into the ground, I purposely lost my balance and tumbled once again. Head bouncing against the hardwood, I watched as orange blurs flew only inches above me.
Vision slightly blurred and ankle searing with pain, I quickly rolled onto my side and lifted myself up. I limped frantically towards my teammates, who were grouped together against the backline. I had been the bait, but their plan had failed ? barely.
?Happy to see me?? I couldn?t help but rub a little salt in the wound.
Just as I dove behind them, two other of my teammates were taken out ? leaving us with only three. Bryant?s team was visibly jubilant, believing victory to be close at hand.
As I began to plot my next move, Jamarcus angrily grabbed as many balls as he could hold. His eyes raged with a fire I?d never seen, every one of his muscles twitching in anticipation. With a thunderous roar, he sprinted forward alone.
A slight smile crept across my face as I imagined what was to come next. Even the golden boy Jamarcus could let his emotions get the better of him, I thought, especially when his girlfriend was involved. But I was not a prophet, and my visions of the future were nothing but a pathetic daydream.
As he charged forward, Bryant?s team panicked and threw everything they were holding in unison. Their strategy had not anticipated such a move, and when plans crumble, so does the man.
In an impressive display of athleticism, Jamarcus flipped clear over the balls thrown at him. While in the air, he used his momentum to rotate his body a full 360 degree ? unleashing everything he held in his hands as he did. Completely caught off guard, he was able to take out four of our rival classmates at once. Only Bryant remained, standing stoically with his hands clasped behind his back.
A shrieking whistle echoed through the gym, signaling the end of the game. Winded from even the smallest exertion of energy, Coach Burns panted as he jogged over to Jamarcus.
?What a move, what a goddamn move! I don?t say this very often, in fact I never say it, but, good job kid.?
Those on the sideline marched robotically to the middle of the gym, breaking into lines of five. Several were sobbing uncontrollably, others stared forward with vacant eyes.
?Sarah, today?s your lucky day. You were the last to be hit by Jamarcus, so technically, you placed as an Alpha. The honorable thing to do would be to refuse, but that doesn?t really sound like you ? does it?? Head hung low, Sarah said nothing as she joined me and the rest of the Alphas.
Standing in the center of the gym, Coach Burns addressed those who had not placed, those who had received the dreaded designation of Beta. Such archaic terms were embedded into the fabric of our town, seeping into every interaction. Everyone, in everything they did, were judged and ranked accordingly.
Julia May was the town?s worst whistler. Neveah Carter was the town?s seventh-best fornicator. Alexander Hannigan was the town's wealthiest man. Caruso Russel was the town?s best and only navel fluff collector. The lists and rankings went on forever, posted online and in public for all to see. Of course, even the rankings were ranked ? some victories simply meant more than others.
?I?ll keep this brief because, at this point, you?ve been through this spiel enough times.? Coach Burns was an impressive kind of lazy, the kind of lazy that was immune to everything, even compassion. ?As Betas, you have failed ? nothing else to say. As is law, we will now eliminate three of you from the tribe. You will be judged by your peers and no one else. You have a minute to write down the name of only one person whom you believe should be executed at tonight?s ceremony. Choose because of hatred, choose because of fear, choose because of strategy, I don?t care why just choose.?
His words reverberating all around, my classmates nervously held on to pencils and pads, looking around with a unique combination of malice and dread. Fear dripped into the hardwood floor and malaise hung in the air like fog. No matter how many times you went through it, the process never became less terrifying.
Swinging his arm down like a hammer, Coach Burns yelled one last instruction, ?Now, begin!?


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