The Spelling Bee — Lost but Won

I decided I would try something a little different. No lists, reviews, boring stuff. Nuh-uh. Instead, hopefully entertaining short stories! Yay...? I found this... http://www.writersdigest.com/prompts. I read the responses to one of them, but I will respond here only to those that I haven't read. I read the one about the "Wrong Bathroom". Let me know how you like it in the comments below!

Prompt #1 - You’ve entered a national spelling bee competition only to find out that your neighbor—and arch rival—has also entered the competition. You've both made it to the final three, along with a person neither of you know. Your arch rival comes to you with a plot to sabotage the third person, but aside from the fact that you want to win fair and square, you suspect that your rival is also trying to sabotage you. Write this scene.

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That girl...She haunted me so. My archrival had made it, and I couldn't believe it. What I really couldn't believe was when she approached me after the qualifiers. The following conversation ensued.

"Hey, uh, bestie!" She forced out the words with disgustingly fabricated enthusiasm. "Um, so...I kinda wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah...?"

"You know that scrawny-lookin' lad over there? Yeah. He actually made it to the top three and I'm not happy about it."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Well, I brought a spelling list with me...Just to, you know, practice. And I thought, um, we could" — Here she lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper" — "switch the lists. You and I could learn this list. But he has no idea."

"I'm not so sure about that. And you know that a spelling bee isn't just about learning from a list, right? It depends on your exposure to the language as a whole."

"You always spoil my fun. Don't you want to win? You — Fine then. I guess I'll win then," she huffed, storming off while cursing obscenities. I hurried after her, yelling "Hey! Wait up! It's not over yet."

"So...Rethinking the offer?"

"Yeah. Let's do it."

And so my archrival and I learned the list. The final round had been scheduled three days after the qualifiers, and when the big day arrived, we were both ready. Or so I thought. Because we both arrived an hour before the round commenced, we were just hanging around the stage, tripping over wires, getting into trouble, just letting off steam. Fifteen minutes before the judges arrived, she switched the lists. But I looked closer, and I saw her replacing it with — a different list? That wasn't the one we practiced...Then it hit me. Oh, why had I been so gullible? I should have known better. She was not only trying to make the poor boy lose, she was plotting against me, too. Well, I would just have to rely on the words I knew. I can do this, I thought to myself, though I wasn't so sure.

That girl stepped up to the podium as I bored my eyes into her back with pure hatred.

"Spell 'promiscuous'."

Of course, she spelled it perfectly, no problem. Now it was the boy's turn. Scrawny, she called him? Why, he was dressed in a suit and tie with his hair gelled. He looked pretty well-to-do to me.

"Spell 'canonical'."

"M-may I have the def-definition, p-please?"

The definition was provided.

"C-A-N-" He hesitated. "O-N-I-C" He gulped loudly. Right now my heart was going out to him, and I felt so helpless, sitting there hating that girl like I had nothing better to do. I felt so ashamed of myself that it was unbearable. "A-L." I whooped loudly, and the audience applauded. On his way back to his seat, he gave a grateful smile. He stutters! He-he...I realized that tears were rolling down my cheeks. I gave myself a reminder to act professional, and, hurriedly wiping my tears, stepped up to the microphone, calm and collected. 

"Spell 'guetapens'."

Whoa. I knew that word. It was the championship word at the 88th Scripps National Spelling Bee! I spelled it perfectly without hesitating and proudly walked back to my seat. Then I saw that boy staring at me in awe. I looked away quickly as my archrival began to spell. Lost in my own thoughts, I snapped out of it when I heard the audience moan. She had spelled the word wrong! Dare I believe it? She was disqualified! Her own list! I gave the boy a high-five behind my back and whispered, "You can do it!" as he yet again, took the stage.

"Spell 'phlebotomy'."

And that boy! He spelled it without stuttering once, to a standing ovation from the crowd. Now it was my turn.

"Spell 'diabolic'."

Okay, I thought. This is easy. I know this. But then I thought about the boy. And I couldn't believe what came out of my mouth. "D-I-A-B-O-L-I-K," I spelled. And with a smile on my face, I accepted defeat. For now, at least. Once again, the boy stepped up to the mic and the look he gave me just about melted my heart. A look of such thankfulness and friendship that for a second, I forgot all my sorrows and hatred. And he spelled the next word with such feeling that I could hear it in his voice. As I proudly watched him win the bee, I rose from my seat and began applauding, grinning from ear-to-ear. The audience followed suit, and he sank to the ground, giddy from his happiness. My rival sat in her seat, sulking grumpily. But that boy, he actually went over to her and talked to her. And was nice to her. I mean, seriously. He was nice to her. After the cheering finally ended and we left the auditorium, I asked him, "What were you doing?" He replied, "I was trying to give her some of my happiness. I guess it doesn't work that way, does it? Anyway, the real question is, what were you doing?" To that I replied, "Well, I was just making your day. And mine. Seeing you win when you were cheated by a competitor is better than any trophy. Congratulations." And that was the beginning of an eternal friendship.