I took my grandfather in his wheelchair to prom after he raised me alone. When a classmate made fun of him, what he said into the microphone silenced the entire gymnasium.

***

Grandfather left the hospital in a wheelchair. When he finally returned home, a ground-floor bedroom had been prepared for him.

Grandfather left the hospital in a wheelchair.

He hated the shower rail for two weeks, then he became pragmatic, as he was with everything else. After months of therapy, he gradually regained his speech.

Grandfather continued to attend school events, report card distribution, and my scholarship interview, where he would sit in the front row and give me a victory sign just before I entered the room.

“You’re not the kind of person life can break, Macy,” he told me once. “You’re the kind of person life makes stronger.”

It was thanks to my grandfather that I had enough self-confidence to enter any room with my head held high.

Unfortunately, there was one person who seemed determined to destroy that trust: Amber.

There was one person who seemed determined to destroy that trust.

Amber and I had been in the same classes since first year, competing for the same grades, the same scholarships, and the same place on the honor roll.

She was intelligent and she knew it. The problem was that she used it to put others down.

In the hallway, she spoke just loud enough for me to hear. “Who do you think Macy is going to take to the dance?” Pause. Giggle. “I mean, which boy would agree to go out with her?”

More laughter erupted from those who were close enough to appreciate the performance.