A Short Story by Holden Hartle

Nomen opened his eyes this morning and rubbed the blurriness away. He rolled over, grabbed his glasses, and slid them on top of his nose. He rose out of bed and went through his normal morning routine, which began with his usual shower. He then brushed his teeth. These were always quintessential pieces of his morning.

His next process was to select his outfit, a process that was equally as important as his cleaning. He was always very pragmatic when choosing his outfit. Nomen paid close attention to which color shirt went with the ripped jeans he had just bought. Then, it was a question of which socks would go with both of those. Today he chose a white graphic tee with the new ripped jeans, along with a standard pair of white crew socks. This outfit was a popular, yet simple, trend that his friends were following.

The final thing he needed to top off his outfit was the “Hi My Name Is”  sticker. Everyone wears one. It is how people identify you. How else should they? Actually speaking to people and learning their story is much too difficult and time consuming. He places a new one on his outfit every day, and this day was no different. But the name he wrote on the nametag remained the same, Victor. He didn’t care for his own name very much, so he made his own, and that is how people knew him. No one other than his parents would ever know that he was anything but Victor, the kid that wears trendy clothing.

It was time for school. Victor received his driver’s license a few months ago, and could drive himself to school. This meant that the car was another thing he needed to keep clean and tidy for the world to see.

His red car, practically sparkling, cruised into the school parking lot. He parked in his designated parking spot. His face was neutral beforehand, but when he parked his car, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, like an actor before reciting a monologue. He breathed out, opened his eyes, and was in character.

Victor grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat and proceeded to the front steps of the school and headed to his locker. As he was putting his books away, he felt a tap on his right shoulder. As he turned his head to the right, Victor heard in his left ear, “Ha! Gotcha!” It was John, as per his nametag. He had been friends with Victor since the beginning of the school year, as they coincidentally had a few classes together. John was part of the “trendy-clothes club” and was wearing a Supreme t-shirt with a pair of designer jeans.

Victor retorted with a joking smack on John’s arm. They had a brief conversation about the hot new girl, Emily, and then proceeded to their first-period class.

Victor had to get through a whole five periods before lunch, and that might as well have been an eternity. Each day that Victor showed up to school, it was harder and harder to maintain appearances. A part of him knew that he wanted to drop the nametag and just be Nomen, but for one, that’s a really nerdy name, and two, he was sure everyone would drop him as a friend if they knew the real him. As Nomen, his world would come crashing down.

From time to time, Victor would look out the window. Rain clouds were gradually coagulating, creating a gloomy mood among the various classrooms, but everyone maintained their persona nonetheless.

One eternity later, it was lunch. Victor walked to his locker and met up with John before finding a place to sit. John moved slowly, so most of the indoor seats were taken, meaning that the pair had to sit outside. As they exited the double doors into the courtyard, the clouds were on the verge of bursting with tears. The pair found a table and started eating, talking about various people and what they were wearing.

It began to rain. What started as just a few drops quickly turned into a barrage of droplets. As the rain began to increase, the adhesive on Victor’s nametag began to come off. Victor’s nervous sweat and rain began to mix. Victor ran into the bathroom to try and salvage the situation. He was furiously attempting to stick his nametag back onto his shirt, but to no avail. There was no hope. He was Nomen now. He was a nerd. His friends would drop him. His outfit could be washed and dried, but his nametag couldn’t.

Nomen hit the bathroom wall with a closed fist and sank to the floor. People were going to ask what his name was, and he had to say Nomen. Who wants to be known as Nomen? Nomen silently cursed his parents for doing this to him.

After a while of sitting in the bathroom, Nomen realized that maybe this wasn’t the worst thing. Maybe it was better to be left in the dark, searching for who you want to be, rather than being the person that everyone expects.

Editor: Luke Langlois