From Scoffs to Satisfaction: My Sweet Revenge on a High School Foe

I Served A Woman Who Scoffed at Me All through High School & Finally Took My Revenge after 20 Years

Lily finally gets to face her bully, Karen, in high school after years of being tormented. When Karen enters Lily’s restaurant, she immediately reverts to her shallow high school self. However, Karen quickly leaves after realising that Lily has overcome her stammer and lisp to run a prosperous business.

The restaurant hummed with the happy sounds of a successful night beneath the gentle glow of the evening lights. But as I walked between the tables, being cautious not to knock into any sharp edges, I noticed Karen, a face I didn’t want to see.

She hadn’t altered in any way. The same arrogant grin, which had plagued me during my school years with her cruel remarks about my stuttering and lisping, persisted on her face even after two decades.

My lisp was at its worst in high school, and all of a sudden I was transported back in time, causing me hesitate to speak.

The worst aspect of my whole school experience was attending school speeches, where girls, like Karen, would start laughing behind their hands and wind up hanging off their chairs with tears running down their faces.

To avoid the taunting, I would hide out at the library and spend all of my free time there.

I recall that one time when Karen was navigating the wave of kids in her ridiculously high heels while I was holding my books close to my chest in an attempt to shrink myself and blend into the grey of the lockers.

Karen’s eyes were like a spotlight, highlighting me above the rest of the group.

“There’s Lisp-Lily, boys!” With a loud voice, Karen surrounded me in laughing.

She said, “Lily, give us a speech and a smile.” She taunted, “Show us that stellar s-s-stutter,” her syllables extending with a spiteful exaggeration.

That night, I seem to have wanted to weep myself to sleep. My brother Alex and I were sitting in the kitchen when I told him everything that had happened that day, including how Karen had lost it.

Spooned ice cream into a bowl for me, my brother remarked, “You should give it back to her, Lily.”

“If I could, I would,” I murmured. “But the moment I open my mouth, you know what happens.”

My brother got off topic and said that I should never let someone make me feel less than capable of becoming.

“You’ve got to stand up for yourself,” he stated.

I also did. in my own manner.

I used to hide from my teachers at school, usually going after school or during lunch breaks if we had speeches to give.

I then visited a speech pathologist to get assistance with my stuttering and lisp. I was going to stop this never-ending bullying.

I sat across from her speech pathologist, Mrs. Thompson, in the calm, well-lit speech therapy centre. The patient area was a small, comfortable space with calming greens and blues that were intended to put patients at rest.

Mrs. Thompson said in a soothing, quiet voice, “Today we’re going to start with some new exercises that are specifically designed to help with your lisp and stutter, Lilily.”

“We’ll focus on techniques that improve your speech fluency, and we’ll also work on building your confidence in speaking situations.”

With trembling hands fumbling in my lap, I nodded. Even though I could still hear Karen and the others making fun of me, every session felt like a step closer to getting my voice back.

The greatest part was that Alex was always there to greet me when I got outside, ready to take me out for pizza, ice cream, or anything else I wanted.

I knew that the culinary sector would be the ideal fit for me after graduating from school because I had found that cooking was my love and, even though I had resolved my speech problems, it was a place where I didn’t have to talk.

It was unsettling to see Karen in my restaurant now. Nervously, I pulled my apron tighter.

Even though I didn’t constantly work the restaurant floor, I was always willing to fill in when needed.

My heart tightened as she laughed, her head thrown back with such unrestrained abandon. But her laughter stopped quickly as I walked over to take their order, and her eyes widened with recognition.

“May I take your order?” I questioned, without letting the anxiety that twitched in my gut show in my voice.

“Lily? Whoa!” Karen raised her arms and exclaimed. “You work here?”

As she spoke, her voice twisted with contempt, as if she had just trodden on something disagreeable.

With my knuckles going white, I managed to reply, gripping my notebook even more tightly. “Evidently, yes,”

Karen exclaimed, “Oh, boy, after all these years,” as she directed her gaze towards the companion. Imagine if I’m still unable to comprehend a word you say. Lily, get me your manager. I would prefer to place my food order from someone who can describe the various foods.”

With a wave of her hand, she waved me off, her words and deeds deeply hurting me.

However, rather than weakening my spirit, age had tempered it. I had been anticipating this day since I graduated from high school, in a sense.

I executed a flawless, well-practiced balletic pirouette, a manoeuvre I had learned in numerous dance courses that had helped me regain the confidence Karen had once shaken.

“Yes, ma’am,” I responded. “How may I help you?” I turned back to her, my posture straight, my grin unflinching.

She questioned sharply, “Do you really think this is funny?” as she sipped from the water glass on the table, her eyes narrowing with annoyance.

“Not really,” I responded. “But this is my place. And I will gladly lead you outside if it does not meet your expectations.”

“You? “You own this place?” she yelled, trembling. Her laugh was tremendous; it bounced off the walls and filled the room with her disdain.

But this evening, fate was on my side.

My brother, who frequently assisted me in running the business, was pacing the floor while wearing a suit.

He inquired, his gaze shifting from Karen to me. “What’s going on?”

“Does this woman really own this restaurant?” Asked Karen.

Alex laughed.

“Yes, she does,” he responded. “But she liked to wait on guests and sometimes run the kitchen, too.”

Alex spoke in a calm, even tone, and his expression, which reflected my same disappointment, was fixated on Karen. Even though he didn’t know her well, he was familiar with her appearance.

Karen’s confident facade crumbled as reality crept in, removing all of the colour from her face.

My brother signalled for another waiter to arrive and requested a complimentary glass of whisky for Karen’s date, who was a spectator to this scenario that was developing and kept shifting uneasily. He kept looking at each of the three of us.

Karen’s words faltered as she tried to cling to the past, making her seem little and petty. “But, you used to stutter, and the lisp you had was something else,” she continued.

“Yes, and after years of therapy and hard work, not only did I overcome those challenges, but I also built a successful business.”

Now totally deflated, Karen was unable to look me in the eye. When it arrived, her date took a sip of his whisky and clutched onto her phone, though not for use.

“Can I take your order?” I inquired once more.

Karen gave a headshake. And then she rose from her chair, prepared to carry her own humiliation out of the house.

Later on in the evening, I discovered that I had successfully healed the adolescent inside of me when I sat in bed and browsed through old pictures on my phone gallery. The youngster who required a reminder that she was capable of persevering and achieving happiness and success on her own.

I felt free at last, after nearly two decades. I thought I had let go of all the high school trauma at last.

How would you have responded in that situation?