Alpha-Best

Taran stood at the microphone. A hush settled over the auditorium.

- Karen DelleCava

“Your word is onomatopoeia,” said Mr. Ramirez, the announcer.

I got this! Taran thought. Spelling was sort of his superpower. He wasn’t a math or science guy, but he devoured books. He rarely studied yet always aced his spelling tests— even the bonus words.

Taran’s brain fast-forwarded to the spelling bees ahead: first the county championship, then the state championship, and finally the national spelling bee. “Your answer, please, Taran?” He glanced back at Alisha, another fourth-grader, perched on the edge of her chair. She wanted another chance at winning. If he missed his word, she’d be back in the game. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Chin up, shoulders back, Taran cleared his throat.

“Onomatopoeia, o-n-o-m-a-t-op-o-e-i-a, onomatopoeia.” Ding! Ding! Ding! “Correct!” said Mr. Ramirez.

Taran’s older sister, Divya, who had also competed but missed her word, applauded with the rest of the crowd. Mr. Ramirez presented the trophy to Taran. Spelling Bee Champion. He thrust both arms into the air. “I am the alpha-best!”

Then he bounded down the steps toward his sister. “Ha!” Taran said, making the trophy dance in front of Divya’s nose.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a terrible winner.”

“What’s wrong with celebrating my victory?”