First Day

first day

I REMEMBER the very first day of third grade, when we had moved from Bethel, Maine to Richfield, Connecticut where we lived for eight years. My mother, Heather Singer took me to school that day,  and I was so nervous in my pink sweater with white hearts, and purple corduroys.  She has been telling me I was going to make friends fast, and not to worry, while she was driving me in the old family Dodge Caravan. I can even recall that blue snowflake sweater she wore that day. She wore that sweater a lot, especially on days when I was sad or nervous, because she knew that sweater was my favorite.

The school looked huge. It was a world of elementary and math and english, and I didn’t think I could do it. There were kids older and smarter than me, and unfamiliar crusty teachers who didn’t know me. I imagined my new teacher to be like the witch from The Wizard Of Oz, minus the green complexion and the billowing black ensemble.

Before w walked into the large glass double doors, mom knelt down in front of me, and put her hands on my shoulders.

    “You, my dear...” Her green eyes stuck to mine and she tucked her long hair behind her ear. “Will do great.” She kissed me square between the eyes with her bright red lipstick, and led me inside.

We met the Principal, who gave me my classroom and teacher, Mrs. Devano, and then it was time for my mom leave me, and for me to go to class. The Principal held me by the hand and walked me down the clean hallway, while my mother left, going through the glass doors, giving me one last wave before taking out the keys and walking to the car.

 

 

    “If you haven’t noticed already, we have a new student.”

1st period chemistry, Mr. Louts.The most I know about him so far is that he hasn’t looked up from his grade book, or list of student names, or whatever he was holding up there yet. He was ten minutes late to class, and I was sitting in the back, where I was getting side glances and back glances from the students who’ve been in this school for nearly two years now, and for me, ten minutes.

    “Laurie Singer, class. Class, Laurie Singer.”

I felt obligated to give a brief half-assed smile to 95% of the class that turned around to look at me. 15% smiled back.

    “Now, moving on...”

2nd period wasn’t any less awkward. I sat in the back again, which was a bad decision made twice, with that weird first introduction, and the stares from strangers in the room.

I got through gym and painting class easy where both teachers told me to sit out and wait for the next unit or project to begin. Nobody in my classes so far really cared I was there. And even through the excruciating pain of math and chemistry, painting and gym, what I dreaded most was lunchtime. Lunchtime started at 12:01 at Kingsford High School, at which time students would plow themselves into the school cafeteria, uniting with their cliques. I walked in alone, smelling that smell of undercooked french fries and the stench of ketchup. It was pretty much a normal high school cafeteria. Tables were scattered all over the place, and you could instantly spot out the cliques. The band nerds, who wore sweatshirts that branded themselves as apart of their school marching band... then the juveniles, who consisted of maybe 5 to 10 kids on one large table, who’d sit closely and barely say a word to one another while they ate... Then the jocks and the cheerleaders, who were always loudest and most obnoxious at lunchtime... Then there were the other people, who didn’t belong in cliques, they just... were. Like me.

But I didn’t want to be in here. I felt so stupid standing there watching the room with my brown paper bag. I noticed a teacher watching me, like I was acting suspicious or something, and almost like instinct I pretended I was looking for someone. I scanned the room, stopping at the jock’s table, squinted, and shook my head. I then scurried out of the cafeteria, feeling incredibly stupid, trying to find somewhere else to eat.

This school was so populated for this tiny town. I think I head Rachel say that since this town was so small, we combined high schools with our averaged size neighboring town, Monroe. Kids were sitting in the hallway eating their lunches, and a huge swarm in the lobby. I just needed to find somewhere quiet, somewhere deserted. At first it seemed like there was nowhere I could go and keep to myself, but then I saw it. There was a long hallway with large windows at the very end, the light spilling out of it over the entire hall. I picked up my speed and walked down it, noticing the pictures of previous school plays in each one.

Annie, 2001. Les Miserable, 2005. There was a mural on the wall of a marching band in green and white. Although there were a few people around the music hall there weren’t many of them and they were in small groups. I walked past them, clutching my small paper bag and watching their eyes follow mine. The hallway got brighter as I walked further down, heading for the large window. I found my spot, under a bunch of hands reaching out for a cello, hands of all different colors. Sitting down, I opened the bag and pulled out a neatly folded sticky note.

    Have a nice day, Sweet heart.

I almost got sad then, someone as sweet as Rachel taking me in, and I just didn’t want anything to do with anything. The sandwich she had made for me was turkey and cheese, and she put a juice box and a granola bar like I was a little girl.

A girl down the hallway shrieked, and I looked down at her who had been swept up by a boy with a nose ring, who was kissing her neck. I turned away and started ripping pieces of my sandwich, chewing at intervals and swallowing slowly.

 

    “I don’t think you should worry, Miss Singer. The material up to this point has been something you’ve gone over at your old school, I’d guess. Your seat is right over there.” Mr. Hanna pointed at a seat in the second row on the left side of the room, squashed between people. I sat down, noticing the explicit drawing at the top of my desk, and covered it with my day planner.

    “Class, this is Laurie Singer.”

Mr. Hanna was fairly young with blond hair, a scruffy face, and not to mention a crazy-a*s tie that was dark blue and a billion SpongeBobs printed on it. He seemed like one of those fun, skippy and smiley teachers that when you tell others you have him, they envy you.

    “Now, kids. I want you to treat Laurie like family. Because that’s what we are, right? A great big family?”

Someone from the back shouted, “Hell no!” And everyone from the class giggled.

    “He’s just joking, Laurie.” Mr. Hanna said to me. “Now, I would love to spend this whole class getting to know you, but unfortunately the district wants me to teach 11th grade English.”

The class laughed again and I smiled nervously.

    “Partner up! I want you to discuss what you’ve read in Huck Finn so far. Laurie, join Gigi and her partner. You’ll catch up. Ready, set, go!”

The whole class turned to the person beside or behind them, and started talking. The girl in front of me turned around. Her hair was flaming red, and she had a petite, gorgeous face. If that wasn’t enough, her fashion pushed all gates open. It was colors all over the place, but it worked. Pink skinny jeans, white shirt, and multicolored bracelets and necklaces, with neon yellow barred glasses perched on her nose.

    “I’m Gigi” She waved to be, although it was completely unnecessary.

I nodded to her.

    “And I have to pick another partner... Brandy!” She yelled across the room to a girl with short brown hair, a piece in the front died blue. She was also pretty, but she wore a little more makeup than Gigi, with dark black eyeliner on her lower lids. Brandy got up to walk to our group with her The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in her hand.

    “So, you’re the new girl?” She asked. As she spoke, I could smell the fresh Bazooka bubblegum she was chewing.

I nodded again, and tucked the hair in my face behind my ears.

    “You’d look good with shorter hair.” Brandy said, smacking on her bubblegum.

    “But getting back to the chapter discussion...” Gigi said loudly after Mr. Hanna looked over at us. He was circling the room, hands behind his back, checking to see if anyone was goofing off. I watched him for a bit while Gigi and Brandy gossiped about something or other. He caught two girls in the front of the room texting on their cell phones, and I expected that he;d just take the phones and put them away in his desk. Instead, he took one of them, looked at the text the girl was writing, and said, “Oh, I want to say something to him. How do you work this thing?” And fiddled with the keyboard.

    “I haven’t read the book.” I said, turning my attention back to them.

    “That’s fine.” Gigi put her barred glasses on her head. “Me neither.”

    “Oooh,” A boy from the back of the room said. He came prowling over to our desks, looking at Gigi. His hair was dark brown, like mine, and he had a long, red Twizzler handing out of his mouth.

    “Miss Gigi didn’t read?” He said, and chewed a little at the Twizzler.

    “Screw off, Jaimie.” Gigi waved her hands in his face.

    “Language!” He gasped, holding a hand to his chest, somehow his speech unharmed by the long strawberry candy.

    “I read,” Brandy sighed. “But didn’t understand a damned word.”

    “Language!” Jaimie repeated, same look on his face. He then looked at me, sort of confused. “Who’s this?” He pointed, the other hand still on his chest.

    “Don’t you listen to Mr. Hanna? Like, at all?” said Gigi.

    “None of you do, apparently.” Mr Hanna said, suddenly appearing behind me. He laughed, and Jaimie walked back to his chair after pointing and winking at both Gigi and Brandy.

    “Gigi, what does Huck say about his father in the chapters you’ve read?” Mr. Hanna asked her. He then took Gigi’s book and flipped to the right chapter. I looked at her, who was making a face like How The Hell Am I Supposed To Know?

    “Right...” Mr. Hannah turned to the front of the classroom and started to review the first couple of chapters to us.

    “So, Laurie.” Gigi whispered to me. “Where do you live around here? Monroe or Charlestown?”

I made sure Mr. Hanna wasn’t looking before answering. “Rain Street in Charlestown.”

Brany popped her gum. “Really? I think Jaimie lives there. I went to a party of his a few weeks ago. Nice house.”

I looked back at Jaimie who wasn’t listening to Mr. Hanna either, but talking to his friendy around him.

    “Laurie,” the teacher said my name, and I jerked my attention to him.

    “Yeah?”

    “I’ll give you a book at the end of class tomorrow when I have an extra copy.”

The bell rang, and everybody picked up their bags and stood up.  I tried to book it out of there before Mr. Hanna finished calling after us, “Have a nice day!”, and to not get any more attention. I was just so glad the torturous school day was over.

    “So, Laurie... where did you move from?”

I suddenly heard a voice from the right side of me, and then just as suddenly another one from the right.

    “From around here? Or maybe New York City!”

It was Brandy and Gigi. Brandy was on my right, Gigi on my left.

    “Oh, the Big Apple!” Gigi gasped. “I wish I lived there.”

I was making a big effort to walk fast, trying to find my way back to the main lobby and out the doors, but they easily matched my pace while looking in their compact mirrors and checking their cell phone for messages.

    “Um, Connecticut.” I answered.

Brandy replied, “Oh, Connecticut. So, kind of close, I guess... where all the rich people live!”

    “Oooh, how fancy!” Gigi said, while applying lip balm.

    “I’m not rich or anything.”

    “Martha Stewart is from Connecticut. Did you know?” Brandy asked, holding her hand out to Gigi for the cherry lip balm.

They both seemed like the kind of girls that pretty much get along with everyone because of their strong and outgoing personalities. While walking with me, they waved to almost everyone in the hallway, students from different cliques that I noticed in the cafeteria today.

Someone passing Gigi gave her a smile, and he said, “Hey, Gigi. I’ll see you at the football game later?”

She nodded excitedly, and when he walked away, she gave out a little squeal.

    “Bathroom, now.” Brandy said, and suddenly I was being pulled into the girl’s bathroom.

I didn’t want to be caught up in this, I just wanted to go back to Rachel’s place.

    “Gigi, no.” Brandy said, plopping her bag down in front of the mirror while checking underneath her eyes for mascara.

    “But Brandy,” Gigi grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly. “He is the hottest guy in school- I’ve been trying to get his attention for months. Do you know how had that was?”

Brandy was shaking her head. “Gigi, no.” She repeated. “You always fall for the wrong guy. Remember Vick?”

Gigi bit her lip and let go of Brandy’s shoulders. Meanwhile, I was trying to contemplate how to get out of here without being seen in time for me to miss my bus.

    “But Damien is different!” She pleaded.

    “No, he is not. You thought Vick was different, did you not?”

I started to ease my way out the door when Brandy caught my attention. “Laurie, what do you think?”

    “How does she know? She’s been at this school since this morning!”

    “From past experiences,” Brandy corrected. “Have you ever fallen for the wrong guy?”

I needed to get to my bus, and I didn’t care about their conversation. But looking back in the past to my old high school, I never fell for the wrong guy, let alone any guy. My life before a few months ago was completely care and drama (boy drama, that is) free.

    “No. I wouldn’t know. But I have to get to my bus.” I said hastily.

    “Let us give you a ride. Those buses are so gross, and the kids are always obnoxious. Gigi said, and dangled her keys.

    “No, that’s okay. I’ll chance it for today.” I said, and walked out of the bathroom. I made my bus just in time.

They were right. The bus smelled of fake leather seats and spoiled milk, and the kids all around me were talking loud and obnoxiously. Apart of me regretted not taking the ride with Brandy and Gigi, but then again, I wasn’t looking for new friends fright now, I just needed my old ones.

I got out my cell phone from a pocket in my backpack, and dialed Kate’s number.

    “Kate?”

    “Laurie! Where are you? I’d really loud on the other end.”

I sighed. “On the bus. I finished my first day here and it’s awful.”

    “The bus? You couldn’t bum a ride from somebody?” She yelled.

    “No, I don’t really know anybody yet. Nobody offered.” I lied.

The bus hit a pothole, and it seemed like the bus jumped a couple feet from the ground. Half the kids on the bus yelped.

    “Hey Kate... do you think maybe I could come over some time? Maybe I can borrow my Aunt’s car one weekend and come down?”

There was a pause, and I thought maybe she had said something but I couldn’t hear her over the yelling kids. Then she said, “Do you think that’s... smart? Coming back here so early? What about...?”

    “I don’t have to see my dad. He doesn’t even have to know I’m in town.”

    “Okay, then. If you’re sure.”

    “I am.”

And I was. I was sure that if I could just see Kate and my other friends it would clear the air just a little bit, and I wouldn’t be feeling as bad as I am right now. I mean, practically cut them out of my life when my mother died, as opposed to having them by my side when I really needed them most. I felt so secure in my decision. The only part was getting it past Rachel.