The rest of my classes were relatively anticlimactic in comparison. I still didn’t know anyone, yet this time, none of them spoke to me. In a way, I understood why: it was our first day, after all. On the other hand, I couldn’t help but feel it was something personal. That was a fault of mine.
My lunch period, the one right in the middle of the day, was just as boring. Leto wasn’t there, which meant I knew absolutely no one. As per usual, I sat by myself, in the corner, and ate my lunch without a word. I spent a few minutes scrolling mindlessly on my phone before heading to my science class, where I was, yet again, forced to tell my teacher about my love for Chick-fil-A. I was really hoping they weren’t having a conference about the icebreakers, since I’d certainly look like an obsessed maniac.
By English, my last period of the day, I was more than exhausted. I hadn’t been forced to socialize this much in weeks. My body couldn’t handle this. I never thought I’d say it, but more than anything, I just wanted to go home. At least there, I’d be able to let my muscles fully relax. Everything hurt from being so tensed up, so ready for something terrible to happen.
In English, we were forced to sit in a circular pattern, which meant there was nowhere for me to hide from my classmates. I took the seat on the far right corner and kept my eyes on my hands when two other kids sat down on either side. It was odd how I could both yearn and fear connection so strongly at the same time. I could never decide if I wanted people to talk to me or if I didn’t. I think it was a matter of wanting them to engage with me, just for the experience, yet being scared of what they might say. It sounds contradictory, I know. I hate my thoughts more than anything.
Our teacher, a blonde woman named Ms. Canmore, wasted no time in introducing herself, giving us a presentation on her schooling, her life, her kids, all that jazz. My other teachers had given us a short run-down, though their introductions were nothing of this scale. I felt like I knew everything about her, and I’d only been in her class for ten minutes.
After her own introduction, she instructed that we get to our feet and go around the room, introducing ourselves to other people. I could feel the bile rising in my throat as the twenty-something other adolescents got to their feet, going around and introducing themselves. Were none of them anxious? Fretful that they might be unfairly judged? Besides, how did our teacher expect us to know each other after only a few minutes? Not all of us were as open as she. Besides, my peers were harder for me to read than adults, harder to fully grasp. There was just something about them.
I stayed at my seat, leaning against the desk to a least seem like I was participating. Ms.Canmore was sitting at the back of the room, looking at her phone. She wouldn’t know I wasn’t doing anything. When she looked up, I’d just look like I was scanning for another loner. Then, when she went back to her own world, I’d retreat into my mind. I could keep the act up for as long as she wanted. A perfect course of action.
“Hello?”
I’d been so enveloped in my plan that the voice took me off guard. Someone was speaking to me? With a yip of surprise, I stumbled against the desk to turn around and face whoever had approached. No one was supposed to be talking to me. I hadn’t prepared myself for this.
Finally getting myself straightened out, I came face-to-face with a short, golden-brown haired girl. She had freckled hazel eyes that held a soft kindness and was dressed in a nice white blouse, the kind that puffed up around your arms, with an accompanying pair of light brown pants. I’d never seen someone so young look so formal. She was absolutely gorgeous, too. I felt my mouth run dry as I stumbled for words that wouldn’t come. What was I supposed to do? To say? Should I put my hands in my pockets or not? Was I sweating? Could she smell the strawberry hairspray on my head? See the gritty toothpaste? Oh, what a nightmare!
