Misalignment | ✔

map

My new school
isn't very close to home.
It took me about
fifteen minutes
to walk there, and that
was at the slowest pace
I could possibly manage,
dragging my feet against
the worn old sidewalk.

I really didn't want to go.

My mother apologized profusely
for being unable to
give me a ride
as she ran out the door
ahead of me,
as she climbed into her SUV,
and as she pulled out
onto the road
and nearly hit a parked car.
She was late for work,
and I didn't mind the walk
anyway;
it would give me time
to clear my head
and prepare myself
for what was to come.

As I walk through the front doors
for the second time
(the first being a week ago
when I met the principal
and was shown around)
I'm hit by
a wave of sound,
like a million voices
chattering all at once
and directing their words
straight towards me.
It's disorienting.
I almost turn around
and walk back outside,
but I can see my mother's
disapproving face
and hear her
reproachful tone
in my mind,
almost as if she were
standing right here with me.

Don't do it.
Stay and fight.

So I stay.
Bad choice.

I can feel their stares
as I start down the hallway,
trying to remember
where exactly
the principal had said
my locker was located.
The English wing;
but where was that?
He hadn't thought
to give me a map
to help me on my first day,
even though I had seen
a whole stack of them
right there
on his desk
in front of his eyes.
They were probably for
the incoming freshmen,
I reason,
and not for me,
a transferred junior.

I'm still not used
to this ugly feeling
of no longer being accepted
and no longer fitting in.

I can feel
the judgement
pouring out from behind me
as I turn to go back
towards the front office
I had passed
on my way in.
I try to look away,
but I lock eyes
with a blonde girl
just as she sneers
in my direction,
and then turns
to glance at her friend
and says something
not very quietly.
I can just hear
her words
as I pass by.

Is that a guy
or a girl?
Whoever it is
really has no
taste in fashion,
but they don't
look that much
like a guy.
That's just weird.

And the friend,
smirking almost as evilly,
replies with:
It's probably one of those
queers
looking for attention.

I can still
hear them laughing
as I walk away,
my face burning
with anger,
even after
they're far out
of earshot.

It's probably
safe to say
that so far,
this school is the
worst
I've ever
had to attend.

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