Seventh-grade me was basically unstoppable.
Except for the one day I absolutely was not.
It started on the bus ride to our farthest basketball game in Norris, Nebraska.
I had a migraine that could have taken down a horse.
My head was pounding.
The lights were too bright.
The whole world felt too loud.
And somehow, despite all of that, I still suited up and played.
I lasted one quarter.
One.
Quarter.
That was the full extent of my basketball glory that day.
By the second quarter, even my coach could tell I was a disaster. He benched me, and honestly?
Thank God.
I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone dribble a basketball.
The game ended, and we started the long ride home.
But first…
We stopped at Runza.
I thought maybe food would help.
Apparently my body had a much more aggressive plan.
I ended up in the Runza bathroom, violently throwing up like the universe had decided I needed to be humbled in carefully timed phases.
It was bad enough that I called my mom from the bathroom and cried while confessing the situation.
Yes, I had thrown up.
Yes, I was miserable.
No, there was absolutely no dignity left.
Just me, fluorescent lights, a Runza bathroom stall, and my mom apologizing over the phone because she wished she could be there to pick me up.
Absolute chaos.
At that point, I really thought the worst was over.
Ha.
Hah.
Hahaha.
Wrong.
We got back on the bus and headed toward the middle school.
Somewhere in those next forty minutes, my stomach decided it still had unfinished business.
I threw up again.
And there I was.
Stuck.
Sitting in my own vomit for forty agonizing minutes while the bus hummed down the highway like this was just another normal trip home.
When we finally arrived, I limped off that bus completely defeated.
The next day I was home sick.
But it didn’t matter.
The story had already spread.
Every single person on the team knew.
Probably the entire seventh grade knew.
Honestly, it may have entered school history.
Even later, at show choir competitions, people still remembered.
That’s the thing about middle school embarrassment.
You think it fades.
It doesn’t.
It becomes legend.
And honestly?
That day was a tragedy.
But it was also kind of iconic.
If this resonated with you, you’re not alone.
