When I was just a freshman, I ended up in a sophomore biology class in which I knew exactly one person. It was a struggle to get through mostly because I couldn’t ask anyone for help or get to my seat without feeling anxious. Shaking with nervousness every day, I somehow made it through even with the scary sophomore boys and mean junior girls. I was just a little gazelle frolicking along, but somehow I wandered into a lions’ den every day from 12:45 to 1:08. Keeping my head down and my mouth shut, I made it through fine, except for one day in September.

“We’re doing a lab today. Grab an egg in the front and meet me in the back of the classroom,” Mr. Rauch said taking control of the noisy classroom.

“What are we doing today? Why do we need eggs?” one of the scary football players asked. I’ll call him Sam. He was big and tall since he was a football player, and he had this look in his eyes that still scares me today.

“You’ll find out,” Mr. Rauch replied with a hint of annoyance in his tone. Sam was always asking dumb questions and commenting whenever he felt necessary, which was all the time.

The lab was simple: soak the eggs in vinegar for a day which makes the shell disintegrate, exposing the cell membrane, which is what we were learning about. As we were cleaning up though, Sam said to Mr. Rauch, “I heard that if try to smash an egg long ways it won’t break.”

“I’ve never heard that, but I don’t think that’s right. An egg will break no matter which way you exert pressure on it,” Mr. Rauch said, not really caring what Sam had to say that day.

“No, no, no, I saw this on the internet. An egg is an oval shape right? So if you take the ends on the long way, it won’t break. I swear it’s true.”

“Fine, grab a lab coat and glasses. I don’t want you messing up my classroom,” Mr. Rauch responded sounding both exasperated and excited.

Sam stood about five feet from everyone and held out the egg in front of him. I stayed off to the side in the back as I usually do, but there was some space in between the people in front of me so that I could see what was going on.

“Ready, 1! 2! 3!” Mr. Rauch shouted before Sam smashed the egg.

Although the egg wasn’t supposed to smash, it did, but it also just didn’t drop to the floor in a sticky puddle. Instead the egg goo flew across the room and hit the most awkward freshman girl there ever was: me. I had decided to wear what I thought was a cute outfit that day, but now my new purple sweater was covered in egg goo along with my arms and a bit of my neck.

Did the awkward girl laugh? Did she cry? No instead she said, “Oooo, this is disgusting!” and sounded like a small child whining when they play in mud.

Everyone including the teacher was laughing at me as I picked off the shells from my shirt.

“Can I go change into my sweatshirt?” I asked quickly before I cried. I gave a small laugh as I walked back to my seat in order to give the impression that I was okay, grabbed my sweatshirt, and practically ran to the bathroom.

Looking back, I’m glad it was cold that day, and I had brought a sweatshirt. Otherwise I would’ve been out of luck. I changed quickly, wrapping up the nice sweater into itself so the sticky egg goo wouldn’t drip.

Gazing into the mirror, I saw egg dripping from the chin of a small, quiet girl in a big school that knew no one. I had to calm myself down from not only crying but from wanting to go after that dumb football player. His unnecessary comments and questions during class had always annoyed me, and I finally had a reason to call him out within reason.

I cleaned myself off a bit more and looked back into the mirror. A pitiful but revengeful girl looked back with determination in her eyes. I started laughing at how silly I was being. There was no reason to be so dramatic. So a little egg hit my sweater? It must mean God is trying to tell me it’s ugly.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Sam asked as soon as I walked into the class.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I replied with a small smile in order not to give the impression that I completely hated him for embarrassing me in a class full of people I was scared of.

“Klaire, bring that shirt here. I can get the egg out,” Mr. Rauch offered as he filled up a soapy sink.

Going over the lab’s significance, he continued teaching while the shirt soaked, but I wasn’t listening. Instead I was daydreaming about hitting the dumb football player upside the head. I just wanted to throw an egg back. Like how stupid can you be? An egg will break no matter which way you smash it. I could’ve told him that before the lab.

In the end, no one from my other classes knew, and the egg did come out of my shirt. I haven’t worn it since though, and I plan on burning it any chance I get. It was my first big high school experience: being humiliated in front of everyone. The whole thing was like it was something from a movie or a Disney channel show since I acted so dramatically.

Looking back, I’m glad I laughed about it so quickly afterward. I learned that everyone gets humiliated once in a while, even if you sit in the back and don’t talk and never participate. It’s funny now, and there really wasn’t any harm done, just that I’m still scared of Sam and all the people in that class who laughed about it for the rest of the trimester. The egg experiment taught me more than how cell membranes work. I learned how to suck it up, laugh it off, and get over it.