It was three-thirty in the the afternoon and the school bell had just rung. School was officially over and I remembered I had to head home to help my father with some household chores. However, an invitation kept ringing in my head. It was an invitation from my classmates. They had asked me to spend the afternoon with them. I had weighed the options of heading home and hanging out with my classmates carefully. I soon came to the conclusion that I should go out with them. They were afterall the popular students and I had always wanted to be with them outside of the school compound. Little did I know that this decision would change my life.
After staying out with my classmates for some time, I headed home. We had had so much fun. We played our favourite games at the arcade in Tampines Mall and even went for dinner at Ramen-tei. A small outing such as that was completely harmless, or so I thought. When I opened the front door, I saw my parents pacing about in the living room. Their faces seemed to carry a flurry of emotions - they looked angry, lost, pained and worried. "Now, where have you been, young man?" my father asked.
I could not think immediately of a valid response. Should I tell him the truth or just tell a lie to cover everything up? Well, what my parents did not know would not hurt them, I had thought. "I had had to do a class project," I replied. "A class project? Till so late at night?" questioned my mother. I just told my parents that it was due the next day and that we had to complete it. "Well, okay, son. But next time, give us a call when you're coming home late," advised my father. Immediately, the interrogation was over. My parents went to their room and I went to mine, glad that they had accepted my excuse.
The next day, my classmates once again invited me for another outing. I was flattered. They had actually liked my company. The day before was a close call and I had barely escaped exposure of my lie. Still, if I was able to get away once, why not twice, or even thrice? On that note of self-assurance, I telephoned my father informing him that I was going to a remedial lesson in school. He acknowledged that unquestioningly and I was only too happy to be let off that lightly. I was going to have another great outing.
To cover my tracks, I just gave my school work to my parents telling them that I did it during remedial lesson. Soon I began to have "remedial lessons" every day of the week. It was a good time, being one of the popular ones, going to the arcade for hours and not facing any consequences. Soon this became a way of life but instead of my academic results going up with my "remedial lessons", my grades deteriorated drastically. This spelt the end of my carefree but irresponsible life.
Concerned, my parents decided to speak to my form teacher. "My son should be getting better results with all the four-hour remedial lessons," said my father to my form teacher. "The only problem is, your son is never there during that four hours," my teacher rebutted, matter-of-factly.
At that moment, my parents and my form teacher gave me a grave stare that seemed to last an eternity. I felt cornered. I wished I were an ostrich. I would like to hide my head in a hole I could find in the ground somewhere. Clearly my carefree life was over. I had to tell the truth.
So I did. I knew my parents were disappointed but strangely a part of me was also glad that I did not have to live a life of secrecy anymore. The whole time I had thought that I was in control but instead the influence of my classmates were really in control of me. My classmates' parents were also notified of their "remedial lesson" misadventures. Before I knew it, every one of the culprits was apprehended and everything was back to normal.
It was true that I was grounded by my parents throughout that June school holidays but I soon found my results getting better as well as my parents' trust in me regaining in strength. This served as a good lesson for me that what was good for me might not always be the best for me.
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