Short Story

In English class, I learned about the power of dialogue in fictional writing. My short story was made in order to explore the ways in which dialogue can convey a story. It is about the experience of being put in a lousy group and the struggles of having to work together on a project. Here is my story:

“The Group Project” by Nicole Hu

When I walked into my economics class, the air was unusually stiff. It was silent, with occasional fidgeting from students here and there and a soft buzzing from the fluorescent lights overhead. It was two weeks before the end of the quarter, and this was the only required class left for me to complete in order to graduate.

The instructor, Mr. Lee, took his place at the front of the classroom.

“Alright, everybody.  Look around you. The people at each table will be a group for the final presentation assignment,” he said.

As I looked at my table group, dread filled my gut. I had not taken into account who was at my table when I had sat down. I looked to my right to see John, with jeans that never quite fit right and hair that never seemed combed. Although he had no care for looking pleasant, he was a decent student, as far as I could remember.

“Remember guys, this will be worth 25% of your final grade, so do it well! And don’t forget, this is a group effort!” my teacher added.

25%? That could make or break my grade. I looked to my left to see who my other partner was. Julie.

Julie was small and had a sweet smile. Her innocent, brown puppy eyes and round face made her seem gentle and reliable. She made a good friend, but not a great person to work with because she would never get her work done. The one time I worked with her on a group project last year, she never did her share of work. Others easily overlooked this aspect of her because of her sweet personality. I, however, was bothered by the fact that I would have to work with her for a project that would determine my grade in the class.

“Tiffany! I’m so glad to be working with you again!” Julie said, with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” I replied weakly, “me too.”

“Oh, and by the way!” Mr. Lee exclaimed as he passed out the assignment papers, “I have invited some of my old students from this class to come and give you an extra audience on presentation day! They are really excited to see what kind of projects you will present!”

“How do you guys want to divide the work?” I asked my table group.

“How about we just divide it equally?” said John.

“Sounds good to me,” I replied.

“Um, actually,” Julie said, “The next couple weeks have been really busy at work. Could I possibly get an easier section to do?”

I passed a glance at John, who didn’t seem to care much.

“Alright. How about you do the last section? That way John and I will do the research and data gathering, and you can handle the conclusion and claims,” I said. Since the research and evidence was the bulk of the presentation, the conclusion and final claims should be easy enough to handle.

“Um, sure. I guess.” Julie shrugged and slouched. I couldn’t tell if she was being passive-aggressive or just tired from her job at the cafe.

We spent the rest of class period creating our presentation and starting our research. Occasionally I looked in Julie’s direction. It looked as if she was being productive, but I couldn’t really tell. Her section only had one slide, with a single bullet point. I wondered if I should ask her how her work was going, or if I should just trust that she was working hard. Julie looked up and her eyes met mine. She gave me an innocent eye-smile which I returned hollowly.

“How is your work coming along?” I asked.

“Really well! I found some really good sources,” she smiled.

~ ~ ~

I spent the next week finishing my part of the presentation. Even though we had two weeks, I wanted to get mine done before finals.

The next time John, Julie, and I met for class was not until a couple days before presentation day. It was raining that day, and the bus I usually take to school had been delayed due to maintenance. I made sure to text John and Julie to let them know I was not going to be able to make it to class, but I never got a response. Worry knocked at the back of my head, but I quickly brushed it away.

When I got home that night, I logged on to review the presentation once more. I scrolled past John’s slides, full of detailed charts, analysis, and note reminders to himself to say certain points during the presentation. I skimmed my section, and fixed any minor errors I found. When I got to Julie’s section, I felt dread and worry burst through the door and spill through me like an avalanche. It was completely empty. Even the slide with the single bullet point was gone. Frantic, I stumbled for my phone and dialed Julie’s number.

“Julie, Julie!” I exclaimed when she picked up the phone.

“Hey Tiffany! What’s up?” she said.

“How’s the presentation going?”

“Oh! It’s going great.”

“Really? Because right now none of your slides are up.” Concerned that I was coming off to harsh, I added, “I’m calling because I am a bit concerned, that’s all.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Work just got so busy. You understand, right?”

I fought the urge to argue with her. We all have personal lives and other work to do, but I didn’t think it became my responsibility if Julie could not handle the work she signed up for. And on top of that, she had the easiest role out of the three of us.

“Yeah,” I muttered, “I understand.”

“I’ll get it done before the presentation! Don’t worry.”

Calling her made me feel only a little bit better, but the anxiety I felt still did not leave. What if she doesn’t get the work done on time? I don’t want my grade to suffer because of this one group project. There’s only one more night left, but if I pull an all-nighter I might be able to make it for her. Or maybe I should just trust her? Maybe she has become a more responsible person, and means it when she said she will get her work done.

I decided to trust her, but I made a couple simple backup slides just in case she didn’t get a single slide done.

~ ~ ~

Presentation day came, and I stood in the hallway outside of the classroom waiting for Julie. She had agreed to meet me before class started so that we could go over the slides one last time. As she pranced over to me, she gleamed with confidence.

“Wanna see my work?” she beamed.

“Yes, please,” I said. I opened my laptop and felt my worry fly away. Her slides looked phenomenal. They were detailed, but concise, and flowed so well into each other.

“Julie, these are amazing.” I said.

“Thanks! It means a lot,” she said.

~ ~ ~

As the alumni started to fill the seats in the audience, my knees started to feel weak. Julie reassured me that our presentation would be excellent, and that I shouldn’t worry since we had so much prepared.

The start of the presentation went smoothly. John’s articulate commentary brought pleased grins upon the alumni’s faces, and my detailed analysis incited the appreciative nods from Mr. Lee.

When it was Julie’s turn, I started to notice something weird. The alumni’s brows had furrowed, and they began to whisper to one another. The room suddenly felt hotter, and Julie, noticing the new atmosphere, began to stutter.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you,” one of the alumni suddenly said, “but this is my presentation from senior year.”

I froze.

“Who was in charge of these slides?” Mr. Lee said, in a tone that pinched down to my core.

I did not know what to say. I turned to Julie, who looked like a helpless kitten, singled out by the ferocious pitbulls demanding her answer.

“Julie?”