Zach William Yabby slouched behind his desk, eyes drifting to the register as every name was called—always waiting, always last.
"Why am I always the last one called? My name just pushes me to the end of everything,"
Miss Winters, the patient teacher with gentle eyes, scanned her list and smiled softly at Zach.
"Zach, you have a strong, beautiful name. It means something, you know."
Zach William Yabby shuffled through scraps of paper, each scribbled with new names—Arnold Braven, Billy Canon, Anthony Bonnet.
"Mother, I hate my name; it's so blah, so I am going to change it by deed poll,"
Mother, quick-witted and always amused, peered over her glasses.
"Okay, Arnold Braven!"
Father, good-natured and booming, entered with a hearty laugh.
"From now on, I shall be called Billy Canon!"
"Alright, Billy Canon, I shall call you that,"
The names echoed around the room, each met with giggles and playful mockery.
Zach William Yabby addressed the group, his voice hopeful but uncertain.
"Friends, I am changing my name to Anthony Bonnet!"
Jake, the class joker, grinned mischievously.
"Atomic Bomb? Antelope Bonnet? Come on, Zach! You’re going to get called last no matter what."
A chorus of laughter followed, as the group rattled off increasingly ridiculous nicknames, leaving Zach red-faced but still determined.
Zach William Yabby hesitated, then stood abruptly, voice quivering.
"Miss Winter, I wish to change my name to Alan Band. My first name starts with a Z, my middle with a W, and my last with a Y. I’ll always be last called at everything!"
Some students snickered, others looked away. Tears welled in Zach’s eyes as the frustration spilled over.
"Zach, your name is beautiful and powerful. You have a truly lovely name,"
Miss Winters’ words, gentle and reassuring, offered a small comfort as the room softened.
Zach William Yabby placed his baby sister gently in her crib, searching for the right stuffed animal to comfort her.
Baby Sister, tiny and earnest, reached out.
"Ardark!"
Zach picked up a bear, a unicorn, a piggy, until finally—a plush aardvark.
"Ardark!"
Her fingers wrapped around his, eyes shining as she hugged the aardvark.
"You mean Aardvark?"
"Aardvark,"
She pronounced it perfectly, then drifted off to sleep, clutching her new friend.
Aardvark Aardvark stood at the front of the line, his name freshly changed by deed poll. For the first time, the teacher called him first.
"Aardvark Aardvark?"
"Present!"
The room burst into applause and laughter, and Zach—now Aardvark Aardvark—felt a surge of pride as he realized he’d finally made it to the top of the list.
He never forgot the name he was born with, nor the journey that brought him here. But now, with a story worth telling and a name everyone remembered, he was ready to write his own adventures—first on every list, and first in spirit.
















