I guess it was that time of the year again, Opposite Day. Backwards pants, yes is no, forward is backward, the whole she-bang. I guess that doing the right thing is wrong too. Protecting the people you thought were your brothers is also frowned upon.

Ever since I joined the swim team my 10th grade year, they were my best friends, my brothers. Yeah we fought sometimes but hey, it’s what brothers do. I never thought that they meant what they said; all the insults, all the times they said they were gonna get high. I was taken so off guard.

It was after school on a pleasant October Monday. I was walking into W Hall to leave the school when I ran into them talking to my girlfriend at the time.

“Shhh! He’s coming,” they whispered.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” I asked in curiosity. The guilt in their eyes made them crack immediately.

“We’re gonna drop acid this weekend. We know you’re not into it, but the offer is on the table,” One of the boys said.

I gave them a disappointed dear-in-the-headlights look and walked off, dragging my girlfriend by the arm behind me.

Later that day, I called her to discuss what in the world was going on. She let me in on all the details of their plan. They said they were going to acid on Saturday night and wanted to do it at her house so she could keep them safe. Y’know, like keep them away from potential weapons, take their keys, stuff you’d do when someone plans on binge drinking or smoking pot. I called BS on this idea, hung up, and sat sick to my stomach in my room, faced with the decision of whether or not I should tell someone. I practically held their lives, and their swim career in my hand. What is a 15 year old supposed to do with something like that? It was like I had the opportunity to play God, and it made me sick.

This gripping knot held the sickness tight in my stomach for three days, the thoughts of how I should handle this racing faster than NASCAR through the confines of my brain. That Thursday, I broke.

It was 4:26 AM (I was up for swim practice). The stress of the early wake up and the upcoming test that day wore me down. I cried about how terrified I was for my two best friends, and my girlfriend. I didn’t know what else to do at that point. I was treading water in a sea of right and wrong, cool and uncool, popular and unpopular. I was sinking.

I skipped practice and told my mom about everything. She warned me of the nuclear explosion of social backlash that was about to occur and how proud she was that I did the right thing. She told me that she would call the boys’ parents and that I should talk to my girlfriend’s parents.

As the day went on, I braced myself for the impending label of “unpopular” that was about to unleash itself upon me.

“You rat. You snitch. You faggot.”

Who knew that doing something to protect someone could generate so much hate? Who knew that the right things are wrong solely because it’s not cool?

That afternoon, I got some very hateful calls from these “brothers” of mine. They went to town on telling me how I would get what’s coming to me and how I had messed with the wrong guys. I told them it was because I cared, but of course they didn’t understand. They were mad and afraid, afraid that they would be kicked off the swim team because apparently someone had told the coach.

I spent the next three and a half weeks listening to everyone tell me that I was a snitch or a jerk, while my parents and coach told me that I had done the right thing. I was going insane. I was losing hair, biting my nails, frantically scanning the room, and listening for anyone to make fun of me.

I was right, but how on Earth was I wrong at the same time? How did I become the enemy? How come care and love for someone’s well being is suddenly a terrible thing? I thought these things for awhile, then I got over it.
I realized, after weeks of wallowing in self pity, that I did the right thing. I saved someone’s good health, good name, and potentially their life. It didn’t matter whether it was cool or not. I was right, I still am, and I always will be. I realized that it’s not always easy to do the right thing, but it will always be right. We need to accept that sometimes people aren't going to be thankful, but in the end, its what you need to do. We have to take care of the ones we love no matter how angry they get. All we can do is hope that one day they will realize that it’s out of love and that one day, this eternal opposite day will end.