by Salma El Etreby
For Hind and Iyaa
Anxiety. Fear. Fright. Confusion. Exhaustion. Those were just a few of the things I felt on my way to the Chevron Reader’s Cup Competition.
The Chevron Reader’s Cup is a reading competition held every year by the Emirates Airlines Literature Festival. I had already participated in it back in the 8th grade; in grade 9, I decided it was better if I didn’t. This year, though, I had the chance to apply for it.
Do I regret it? Absolutely not.
My teammates and I had agreed to focus on one book each; that way, it’ll be easier for us to complete the assessments. I had taken a book titled “The Last Dragonslayer”. I wasn’t too excited, as it seemed boring. Regardless, I began reading.
Exams week came around and I had become busier than ever. I never glanced the book’s way, let alone read it. It was only when we received the date of the competition that I completely focused on reading the book.
I knew exactly what the questions would be like, and I knew it would take more than just reading the book to be prepared. I knew how excruciatingly detailed the questions would be, so I studied the book. I did some research on the book, looked up mock exams on it, and even read it three times.
I was not worried in the least bit; why should I be? I had been preparing for weeks, always flipping through the pages.
Fast forward a couple weeks, it’s only a week until the competition. My schedule had become messier. I began to wonder whether my teammates were ready for it either. Did they read all four books? Did they memorize everything? Did they—
“Salma, to the library,” I was asked. A meeting, of course. How do I tell the coordinator that I am in no way near finishing the books? I was panicking. Albeit knowing there was no way I’d be kicked off the team since we’re so close to the date, I still panicked. Maybe I’ll just tell her I’m re-reading all of them just to make sure?
I made my way around the corners of the halls and finally, into the building where the library would be.
No one was there. Strange.
I sat for about fifteen minutes, idly flipping through the pages of one of the Maze Runner books, not really paying attention to the words.
Someone opened the door. It was the coordinator. It had then occurred to me that my teacher gave me my note a bit too early, and that I was not meant to be there for the past few minutes.
She took a seat across from me as the rest of my teammates walked in, too. We discussed our tactics and explained the way it worked for the new students. I was frantic with worry.
We bid our goodbyes and made our way back to class. There shouldn’t be anything to worry about, right?
It was now only six days until the competition would take place. My friends had grown tired of me counting down. They thought I was annoyed, but I wasn’t. I grew more scared by the minute, and venting was the only way for me to let off some steam. I read and read, writing down each detail I assumed would be significant enough to memorize. My notebook was covered in numbers and letters, each holding a meaning that no one else really understood, save for me.
Four more days.
I was tired. Tired of reading, tired of folding the pages, tired of making sure I had memorized every letter in the book. But it’d be worth it, right? Perhaps it would, perhaps it would not. I wasn’t really sure why I was doing this, anyway. I liked reading, and I liked it the first time I participated in this whole thing.
Three more days.
I had found some exams online regarding my book. The questions were extremely detailed, so detailed that I highly doubted any of them would make an appearance on the actual exam.
Two more days.
I had begun asking everyone around me to evaluate me on all three-hundred-and-twenty-one questions until I was confident that I knew the answer to each and every one of them. I had asked my sister, my mom, and even my friends to text me the questions, sometimes at late hours in the night. They knew how important this was to me and they were more than willing to help me get through this, and for that, I am so thankful.
One more day.
I memorized and wrote every question and folded almost every page in the book. I’ve grown to loathe the book. I stayed up until two or three in the morning, and woke up at six to review everything. I’d still have time at school, right?
Apparently not. We were called to the buses right after the national anthem. This was it. I felt completely unprepared. My friends were reassuring me that I’d be okay, but my mind was all over the place to hear them.
We were now seated in a spacious hall. There had to be at least 200 people there, all from different schools. My books were splayed on the table, but I only focused on one. Suddenly, a voice boomed through the speakers. “If you’d all please direct your attention to the stage, our students have prepared a special presentation before you begin,” one of the supervisors said. A familiar melody hummed softly soon after. I knew this song, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. I was so caught up in my book that I almost missed the chorus. That’s when I realized what they were singing. It was “Euphoria,” by BTS’s Jungkook. Strangely, even though it was one of my least favorite songs by them, hearing it was disarming. I immediately relaxed; I felt sure that I would ace this exam.
Once the song was over, they handed us the papers. I didn’t want to look at the questions, I didn’t want to see how hard it would be, I didn’t—
I peeked. The questions weren’t as bad as I thought they’d be, and I actually knew how to answer them. I was waiting for the announcements to come to an end so I could get it over with.
The competition had ended an hour ago, and we were rewarded with breakfast. I really did worry for nothing. The exam was easy, and now we wait until we know whether we’ve made it to the second round or not.
To my teammates who may or may not be reading this, you all did great, and I couldn’t have asked for better ones. Good luck to us!
And to anyone who’d want to participate next year, do it, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.