It is the first day of school. I am cautious of my surroundings but am also willing to make friends. My name is Abigail and I have always been an introvert, but I have to admit, I can be sassy or snappy at times. But I am never the talkative, chatty type, so it takes me what feels like forever to open up to making friends and get used to them. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to make friends.
My new 7th grade teacher, Mrs. Waling, is super nice, but can be loud at times. She tends to wear a turtleneck, black leggings, boots, and a nude colored lipstick. As I look at the kids around me, I start to feel alone- an outsider. But I knew that I was going to make friends eventually. After all, I have the whole school year to make a friend. Or maybe even two if I am lucky.
Math is my least favorite subject. It is full of numbers and equations, which just overflow my brain. From decimals to fractions, it is hard to keep track of all of the strategies. I look around, even though I know I am supposed to be working, but how can I possibly ignore the fact that Olivia and Evelyn are talking about gossip. They are two dramatic blondes who tend to wear bright pink, cakey lip-gloss, and think they are better than everyone else. What are they talking about? Who are they talking about? Are they talking about me? I could keep naming thoughts forever, but I don’t have enough time.
I quickly turn back to my math paper and continue doing my work. I fight the urge to turn my attention back to Olivia and Evelyn and possibly get in trouble with my math teacher, Ms. Anderson. Ms. Anderson is pretty nice but it kind of concerns me why she has worry lines that drape across her forehead, even when she is the happiest she could be. She talks a little too much for my opinion. I know she is just trying to clarify the math problems so no one has any confusion, but still! I just want to get this class over with and her being all chatty is not helping. Before I knew it, the bell rang. It was time to start heading to my locker. My immediate thoughts? “Saved by the bell!”, which is a phrase I don’t usually say. But then again, Math is my least favorite subject. Math was so boring. But was actually kind of quick to be honest.
***
Class is done. I walk towards my locker, hugging textbooks and notebooks. With every step, I feel my legs droop down. But I can’t show a sign of weakness or the bullies will go chasing me as the predators they are. The halls are crowded. Loud. Lockers slamming shut as I slowly walk deeper into the depths of the long, narrow halls. Eventually, I spotted my locker down the hall. I finally got to my locker. The school is so big, it feels like I have been walking for ages. I put in my locker combination and immediately started reading my agenda to see who I have for my next class and in which room. It looks like I have Mrs. Simone. In room 105? But that is all the way across the school! I’ll have to power walk, I thought.
I start trading my math textbooks for my English binder and stuff the textbooks in my backpack. The binder overflows with pages and lessons and stories that will possibly help me in English this year. With no luck on my side, papers pour out of my binder. I quickly rush to pick up the papers and speed-walk to my next class, in hopes that I am not too late. I reach my classroom door, slowly reaching for the door handle as my hands start to tremble with fear. I finally opened the door. I immediately see students looking at me. You know that feeling when you are so nervous, that everything feels warm inside? That feeling shot through my body. As quick as a blink of a human eye.
“H- hello!” I said, stammering feeling skittish.
“Oh, you must be…” she starts saying, looking at the class roster. “Oh, Abigail Warren. Please take a seat”.
With a slouched back, I shyly take a seat in front of the class. I gently lay my English binder down on my desk as I get settled in. I start taking notes in my English binder as Mrs. Simone writes with a bright red expo marker correct grammar and punctuation used in a sentence. To be honest, because it was so bright, it was kind of hard to see. Ugh! Just forget it. I am too shy to ask for help anyway. I start looking around me. I soon see a girl next to me. What is her name? Maybe she could be my friend?
“Hi,” I whisper, trying not to disrupt the class.
“Hello,” she replied.
She was as quiet as a mouse, it seemed. But I could relate. I too am very shy. Especially when it comes to meeting new people. Hopefully I can bust her out of her shell.
“What is your name?” I asked.
“Laura,” she responded.
“Nice to meet you! So, what do you like to do,” I mentioned out of curiosity.
“Not much. I mean, I do love to draw,” Laura said.
Draw? Already we have something in common! I have been drawing since a very young age. I think since I was 4. I wonder how long Laura has been drawing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to make friends after all. But who knows? I might have just jinxed it.
“How long have you been drawing,” I interrogated.
“Since as long as I can remember. My earliest memories of drawing was when I accidentally got a piece of pencil led up my right nostril,” Laura mentioned with the slightest giggle.
That was most unexpected. I tried to hold back my laughter, but then came a slightly loud snicker.
“Ms. Warren. Is there something that you would like to add or tell the class,” Mrs. Simone said in disappointment.
“I – I…Uh…” I started to stammer as the embarrassment came overflowing back to me.
Mrs. Simone gave me a stern look and started to raise an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. Perhaps an apology from me.
After a lot of stammered words later, Mrs. Simone’s stern, frightening look became just pure anger as if she was going to leave me with a death sentence.
“Not a great first impression today, Ms. Warren,” Mrs. Simone said with a deep glare in her eyes.
“Sorry, Mrs. Simone”
“It is okay. Just try to make better choices next time.”
I slouch in my chair in embarrassment as I start to hear a few whispers coming from behind me. Oh no… Are they talking about me? Stop talking about me! I could feel the anger bubbling inside of me, like magma that was slowly getting hotter and hotter until it was just about to erupt. They eventually stopped talking and I thought everything would be fine, but boy was reality far from that.
To be continued…
