The bag of cold peas melted onto Anna’s blue and white shirt, mixing with a little of the blood that dropped from her nose and split lip. Her left eye was bruised but not shut.
Give peas a chance, she thought and chuckled a little through the pain of her bruised abdomen.
“What’s funny?” Ms. Brown looked up with clear disapproval. “You’re lucky you’re only facing suspension, if not expulsion, given how serious your injuries could have been.”
“I’m just…thinking maybe I should give peace a chance.”
“It is a little late for that.”
“No, it’s just…peace…peas” Anna flipped the bag of cold legumes, hoping Ms. Brown might join her in the joke.
Ms. Brown betrayed a dash of humanity as the left corner of her thin lips raised and fell.
“Clever,” she said. “But clever won’t get you out of this. You could have been cleverer before you threw the first punch.”
Moments later, Anna’s nemesis Marissa walked out of Mr. Riley’s office with bandaged fists and averted eyes. She cast one angry glare at Anna before marching out the door.
“Next,” Anna heard from the direction of Mr. Riley’s office. Ms. Brown flashed a smile that betrayed neither politeness nor humanity.
Mr. Riley sat behind a large albeit Spartan desk. Small pictures on the walls showed him shaking hands with students mixed in with sports memorabilia, primarily from Dartmouth football. Anna thought it looked like the walls of fame at pizza restaurants, where the owner is beaming wide smiles with celebrities looking to just eat a slice in silence.
Mr. Riley rested his chin in his large hands. He did not look up when he offered a seat to Anna on the old chairs in front of him, nor did he react to the metallic squeak from Anna’s weight on the chair.
“Remind me, Anna…how long have you been here with us,” he inquired without looking up at Anna or moving a muscle.
“Since the middle of eighth grade, sir,” Anna responded through the bag of peas. Anna noticed she felt less clever. In this space, she wanted to give just the facts and avoid breaking the silence from shuffling frozen peas or the metallic squeaks from the chair.
Mr. Riley took a deep breath and repeated slowly, “the…middle…of eighth…grade. Hmmm… and from Franklin if I remember correctly.”
He remained motionless, letting that hang in the air. Anna didn’t dare move either.
“From what I’ve seen, this seems to have been a good place for you, yes?”
“Most days, I’d say so, Mr. Riley,” Anna acknowledged.
“And yet, probably not today, no?” Mr. Riley finally looked up with gray eyes through thick glasses.
Anna dropped the peas from her face, shrugged, and put the cold bag back on her face without answering.
“Right. Well, for as long as you have been here, I have admired seeing you grow here. While I can’t deny I’m disappointed by what happened today, I’m still glad you’re part of our community here.”
Anna, feeling the weight of the fight and the day pressing down on her all day, was caught off guard by a warm rush of emotion and happiness despite the pain in her face. It wasn’t often—ever?—that a teacher or principal had told her they were glad she was a part of anything.
“Having said that, this was really unexpected to hear you started a fight today. Tell me, what happened?”
The rage and intensity of the morning’s fight had cooled, and almost seemed humorous even though Anna knew to withhold being clever about it.
“You know, I just have gotten so, so tired of Marissa and her dumb joke that my butt looks like a waffle iron. I know it sounds super random and really dumb, Mr. Riley, and just…,” Anna tried to finish her sentence but didn’t really know what else to say about it.
“I don’t know. Something snapped in me today! I threw a punch not because it bothered me today as much as it, I don’t know… has bothered me for months,” Anna expressed. “I don’t think I knew Marissa could make all this happen,” as Anna gestured to her face.
Mr. Riley wondered if Anna felt any responsibility for “all this” as he nodded along, trying to piece together what he thought Anna needed to hear.
“Well, I have seen my fair share of school fights over the years. I don’t really understand or want to understand what a ‘butt that looks like a waffle iron’ means or why this got so out of hand. Your injuries are giving you something to think about, but I think I’m more concerned if this was a one-time thing or if you are going to have another outburst like this again.”
Any freeze left in the peas was gone as the fire in Anna’s anger rose to her cheeks, and she wanted to scream at Mr. Riley that he didn’t get it. “Me? ME?! Why me, Mr. Riley? I’m sitting here taking these stupid jokes from Marissa, hearing her stupid laugh with her stupid friends over this stupid joke. That she’s out there with like her dumb face and her jaw like nothing happened and this is all my fault?! Look at the dumb rules applied inconsistently from YOUR teachers, from the dumb things THEY say to me but let HER get away with it. Why do I always have to be the bigger person just because her attacks are stupid?
“Being the bigger person? That’s only made me feel so small, here and at Franklin. I don’t want that anymore!” Anna was out of breath from declaring these points through the physical pain.
Mr. Riley shifted his eyes to a picture of his own daughters, catching himself in a moment of reflection before fixing his eyes back on Anna.
“I hear you, Anna. I’m not saying I agree or disagree, but I hear you. Being the bigger person can mean a lot of things, and perhaps it was meant to be more about addressing issues like this before you jump to fight or flight instincts.”
His voice softened. “Stepping back isn’t weakness, Anna. It’s about controlling what you can—yourself. We all mess up, and this can be an opportunity to get a little better at handling yourself in moments like this.”
Mr. Riley felt this was a chance for Anna, that perhaps not in grand gestures or major moments things could get better but instead through small steps to learn about herself and handle things better in time.
Regardless of how Mr. Riley felt, he knew he had to try his best while meeting his responsibilities for the school. And this meant consequences.
“We all have something to learn from this. Marissa needs to learn to respect others, and you have a chance to show that you can handle these challenges differently. I know you’re better than this, better than who or what you saw at Franklin, and know you feel the gravity of what’s happened today. I wish that could be the end of it, but there are school rules. You’ll serve a one-day suspension is going to be required.”
“BUT WHAT ABOUT MARISSA AND HER…” Anna stood up and screamed as the bag of wet peas hit the cheap vinyl floor. As she felt hot blood rushing to her head, amplifying her anger and frustration, Mr. Riley raised an index finger to suggest quiet.
“I’ve already talked to her. I don’t think you should worry about Marissa.”
Anna rested her elbows on her knees and stared down at the floor. She was physically shaken by the news of a one-day suspension. How could she tell her parents, and would this show up on her permanent record? Her mom might try to understand, but would her dad’s silent disappointment hide further calls to be the “bigger person?” Would this hit her college applications? How bad was this?
Good, thought her principal. A good kid who never wants to feel like this again. While he could never guarantee anything, Mr. Riley was confident he would continue to be glad to see Anna from Franklin grow at his school. A one-day suspension could be explained away in time, but glad it was having the appropriate impact today.
Anna did not have that perspective yet, still processing her punishment and fighting back the embarrassing prospect of tears. “All this over being told my butt looked like a waffle iron.”
“I have to be honest, I still don’t know what that means,” Mr. Riley exclaimed as he rose from his large desk and scooped up the bag of wet peas. “For now, it is time for you and your peas to split.”
Anna looked up from the floor at this weak pun and stared dumbfounded at Mr. Riley and soggy peas. “Split peas?”
“Yes. I imagine your parents are on their way here and you have some explaining to do. Make like a pea and split, right?”
I hope I don’t sound that obnoxious, Anna thought, still shaken by the events of the day and the uncertainty of what was ahead. “Well, aren’t we lucky we don’t have any icepacks and just bags of frozen peas like this.”
“It is times like these that we can give peas a chance,” Mr. Riley said. “Good luck explaining today to your parents.”
Mr. Riley returned to his desk, and stared at his own “wall of fame,” wondering where Anna would end up and if she would find her way up there.
Anna picked herself up and shuffled painfully out of the room, the wet bag of peas dripping behind her. She didn’t know exactly how she’d explain the fight to her parents.
As she crossed the threshold, the heavy door clicked shut. It felt so far away. She was finally alone except for the soggy peas and her reflection in the waiting room windows with her bruised face staring back at her.
Walking through the empty halls of her school, Anna had no clear answers and only a vague sense of what Mr. Riley had tried to tell her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d let Marissa’s taunts go on too long, that trying to be the “bigger person” had only made her smaller. The advice from adults—well-meaning but disconnected—had led her here over so many small moments where she let small things slide. She wasn’t sure it had done her any good.
But maybe there was a way forward, a balance between standing up for herself and finding common ground. Maybe that was what being a bigger person meant.
Stepping out to see the sun shining through the leaves, she squeezed the bag of peas one last time as she saw her parents’ car pull up to the school. With a deep breath, Anna straightened her back and ignored the sharp ache in her abdomen as she stepped into the mid-afternoon sun. The bag of mushy peas flew into the garbage, and Anna wondered if being the bigger person wasn’t about anyone else. Maybe being a bigger person could better serve her, and was something she could figure out on her own terms.1
Many thanks to
for feedback and others for their stories about how ridiculous being a teenager is.
Judy Ferreri-Thanks for sending this! You show compassion for the difficult and often traumatic teenage years. I enjoyed this story and look forward to reading more from you!
Omg I just love this final version!!!! Well done!