It’s the first day of school. The bus should be coming soon. I can’t tell you how much I dread school. It’s one of the things I hate the most. It’s not the number one thing, though. The number one thing I hate is It. I hate that it happened. People are going to know. They’re going to remember I called the cops at the party. I can’t deal with that. Not on top of knowing I have to go to school with It. What if I see It in the hall? What should I do? Run and hide? That’s what I might do. The bus is driving up to its usual spot. I grab my backpack without telling my mom that I’m leaving for school. She won’t notice that I’m gone. The bus driver smiles at me. I stare back. Where am I supposed to sit at? I guess I’ll just sit in the middle. I watch the other kids board the bus. None of them say a word to me. Do they know who I am? If they knew what happened, would they be my friend? I don’t think they would. No one sat next to me until another stop came, and this one girl with blonde hair sat next to me. She had a huge grin on her face.
“Hi! I’m Heather from Ohio! Are you new here?” I muffled “hmmm” at her. I pretended as if she wasn’t there. I looked out the window until the bus reaches the high school. Wonderful Merryweather High. I step off the bus quickly, not making eye contact with anyone. As soon as I got out, someone took a picture of me and asked, “Name?” I didn’t know what he was talking about. “Name?” he said louder.
“Umm, Melinda Sordino,” I say quietly.
“Year?” he said staring into my eyes.
“Freshman,” I replied staring at the ground. He nodded his head at me and walked away. I continued to walk into the school. The bell rang.
Was that the first bell? I don’t even have my schedule yet. I quickly walked into the office. “Umm,” I said quietly to the attendence office lady. She looked old. Maybe in her 60s. She looked happy to be there, though. She asked, “What do you need, miss?” with a smile.
“Umm, I need my schedule,” I said not too loud.
“What is your name?” she asks.
“Melinda Sordino,” I reply with a shaky voice. She hands me my schedule. Art? First period? That seems fine with me. I walk around for a few minutes. I found the room. I quietly opened the door.
The teacher looks at me, and so does the entire class. I do not like this. I do not like being stared at by tons of people. The teacher walks up to me and asks, “Are you in this class?”
I say, “yes.” He points me to a seat next to a girl with shoulder length hair. She was the only one that didn’t stare at me when I walked in. I quickly go over to that seat and sit down. I put my backpack down and tap my fingers nervously on the desk. She looks over at me and smiles. I try to smile back, but I’m not able to. So I just nod at her. She looks back at the teacher.
“As I was saying, we are going to pick on one item from this globe. That is what you will work on for the entire year. Any questions?” he said, looking at all of the students. No one raised their hands. He walked around the desks to each person. I heard a girl behind me say, “Umm, Mr Freeman? I’m kind of scared of clowns. I don’t want to go into therapy,” she said in a nervous tone.
“Fear is a great start,” he replied back at her. He gave me the globe. I picked up a piece of paper. It said “tree.” I went to grab another one and then Mr Freeman pulled the globe back and said, “Woah, you just chose your destiny, you can’t change that.”
“But I learned how to draw a tree in the 3rd grade,” I said looking down at the piece of paper.
“Can you show me?” he asked with curiosity. “I won’t grade you,” he added. He gave me another regular-sized piece of paper. I drew a circle and then two branches. I looked at him to show him that I was done. The girl next to me looked at my drawing and smiled. She sat patiently waited so she could pick her object. She didn’t look like she was getting aggravated. She seems like a calm person. I should try to act like her. Mr Freeman told me that it was a good start. He moved on to the girl next to me. She pulled out one. She made a weird face but didn’t say anything. Should I ask her what she got? My mouth won’t let me speak. I tried again.
“What did you get?” I asked the girl next to me.
“A heart,” she replied.
“That sounds easy enough,” I said, not sure of what I was supposed to say back. I’m not good with conversations.
“Yeah,” she replied. What should I say next? I don’t know. The bell rings. I pick up my stuff and look at my schedule. Next period: English. I don’t mind English. The girl looks up at me and says “See you later.” I nod. She seems nice.
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I'm re-writing Speak for the heck of it.
