The Distance

SEPTEMBER - JASON, 1

I know it sounds silly, but on the morning that I woke up for my first day of school, my heart told me I wasn't going to St. Luke's. I looked at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth and thought nothing had changed. I got dressed and considered what stairwells I would use at my old school when I changed classes. I waited for the bus at a different bus stop and convinced myself it was a temporary adjustment. I was delusional.

St. Luke's High School filled my vision in black block letters as the bus pulled into view. The faces inside were foreign and the seats smelled like a different cleaner. Even the graffiti drawn in ink pen on the back of the seats was different. Who was "Ashley T" anyway and why would I call her for a "good time?"

I received looks I wouldn't exactly call welcoming as I walked into the main building. I was a new curiosity entering their midst. A specimen. My attempts to go unnoticed were not unnoticed. I heard a clump of girls whisper about me as I passed. Yes, I wanted to confirm, I was the new kid.

I found my locker alright, which was shorter and more square-shaped than I was used to. I packed my belongings into the strange receptacle and made my way to my first class. It was a slightly smaller room than I was used to. Public schools liked to cram thirty students in a classroom. This looked more like fifteen. And, in what would be the first of several uncomfortable moments, Mrs. Albright, the history teacher, made me stand in front of the room as the new student and introduce myself.

"Does anyone have any questions for Jason?" she asked after I waved pathetically everyone.

A hand shot up from a girl with mint-green hair.

"Yeah, why would you switch schools with one down the road your senior year? I'm assuming you didn't move, so did you do something bad and can't go back?"

The girl raised her eyebrows at the end of her question unapologetically. I didn't know how to respond. The audacity took the wind out of me.

"Okay, good question with interesting deduction skills, Paige," said Mrs. Albright. "But let's not make Jason feel unwelcome with probing queries."

"I- I didn't do something bad," I stammered.

"You don't have to answer that question," said Mrs. Albright. She put her hand on my shoulder and tried to guide me to my seat.

"It's fine," I said. "I changed schools because my mom thought this would be a better place for me."

I heard a few kids snicker at my answer. Maybe they thought I was a mama's boy. The irony was that I was still incredibly annoyed at my mother. I took my seat diagonally behind Paige as Mrs. Albright moved on to starting her lesson. Shortly, the green-haired girl passed a folded note back to me. Around a crude illustration of a screaming skeleton burning in a fiery pit, she had written, "This is not a better place. Welcome to hell."

I had anticipated lunchtime to be an awkward experience. I had spent years in public school forming bonds with different groups of people I loosely called my friends. I say loosely because I didn't really see them outside of school. I would go home and read or watch TV. I didn't have a social life. But at least I had a place to go in the lunchroom. I knew I would be welcome at a handful of tables. At St. Luke's I would have to start over. I assumed I would make friends with the cross-country boys, but I would have to wait until my first practice for that. Day one, I had no one.

I collected a tray of food from the lunch ladies and scanned my options. It was very similar to my old school. The cliques were observable by fashion, hairstyles, and confidence. My eyes wandered from the jocks to the preps to the emos and the anime kids. At one table, a pretty girl with long blonde hair waved. At first, I assumed to someone else, but it was, in fact, to me.