"Good morning."
"Good morning Mr. Tibby," I replied with a smile as I walked through the school's gate.
The greeting was an everyday custom in my oh-so riveting life, hence the sarcasm. But don't get the wrong impression; this exchange of "good mornings" gave me a daily dose of dopamine to start my days.
There was something about greeting others and them greeting you back.
Well, at least for me.
It gave me a sense of confidence as I walked through the halls knowing that I was being acknowledged.
"See you in class, Aurora," Ms. Miller said, rushing past me.
"Hey Aurora," Agnes cheerily echoed in the hallway as she waved.
"Morning," Mr. Matthews threw in as I passed him while rounding the corner.
For a moment, those first greetings make me forget about the minor things that my brain will soon blow out to proportions.
I reach my locker and grab my textbook for first-period statistics, which happened to be located down the long hall. It's 7:46 am, and I still have a full fourteen minutes to waste before class starts.
What do I do now?
Calm down, Aurora, my inner voice reassures me. Waste some time pretending to fix your locker.
Okay, I could work with that.
I start shuffling and rearranging my textbooks inside. Ugh, why did I leave home so early?
Maybe because you have an obnoxious phobia of being late to class.
I mentally roll my eyes at the remark and look down at my phone to recheck the time.
7:48 am.
Just two minutes had gone by? I swear it was longer than that. Why was time going so slow?
Okay Aurora, start to walk to class, but not too fast. If Ms. Miller still has not opened her classroom, just stand near the door and pretend you are texting someone on your phone.
I close my locker and begin my journey down the hall.
Stand a bit straighter with your shoulders back. But not too exaggerated. Make it seem walking alone does not bother you.
I looked around me. Students were buzzing everywhere.
Friends greeted one another as they met up, each in their own way. Some were much more casual, with a short "hey," head nod, guy hug-thing, little handshake, quick hugs; while others were much more exaggerated with shouting from across the halls, squeals, and overly dramatic hugs.
People leaned on lockers talking their hearts away with each other. Others sat on the floor, not giving a care in the world about the judging stares others gave them from blocking the hallway. Some huddled over a phone, looking over some video of some girls skinny-dipping at Jason's party on Saturday.
Most students had their usual other best friend and traveled in pairs, there were some in trios and fours, and the more popular ones coexisted in larger numbers. It seemed as if everyone had at least one person to turn to.
Except me.
I mean, sure, I guess people knew who I was or at least had heard of my name before. I was student body president, so my name and face was something that traveled around.
But there was a difference between being known and having friends.
Sad if you ask me.
Not having someone to share my thoughts with was making me crazy. The only one I had conversations with was myself.
Just sad.
Oh, shut up brain, I mentally respond back.
I reach Ms. Miller's classroom, and it is already open, sparing me the unease of standing outside pretending to do something on my phone.
As I walk in, I see there were already a couple of students seated who had arrived early and were busy doing their own thing. I take my seat and look at the clock yet again.
7:51 am.
Great, I could begin early on the independent worksheet for today and watch Netflix for the remainder of class once I finish.
I get lost in those nine minutes until the bell, and before I know it, the sound of chatting students in the hallway gets washed into the classroom.
Ms. Miller lets us have free time until after the morning announcements, which everyone takes advantage of by carrying on engrossed in conversation.
I glance left and right.
No one seemed to notice the empty seat to my right.
No one seemed to notice my silence.
It's okay, I thought to myself. Honestly, I would completely embarrass myself if I tried to have a conversation with someone or if someone tried to have a conversation with me. Then, I would be replaying it in my mind over and over again until I went to sleep at night, and it might have even crossed my mind some days after that.
Then, people would notice me as a loner and begin to acknowledge me in that perspective instead.
Maybe I was better off staying as a sort of "mystery" to many.
But as the chatter and laughter of students continued to bounce off the classroom walls, it was difficult to deny that it was getting tiring being lonely in a crowd.
