Memoirs of an Outstanding* Teen

Chapter Two: Just Don't Look Friendless

If you like cloudy weather, you might be pleased to know that the clouds returned quickly that day. When we got our class assignments, to my dismay, Riana was not in my grade-8 class. I was placed in 8E and she was all the way over there in 8D.

We were told where to stand to wait for our register teachers and again, I found myself staring at backs of people who were chatting excitedly in closed circles that I could not enter. Riana had already moved on with her new 8D friends. Whatever fledging friendship we had built until then was suffocated along with my hopes of not looking like a sad loner next to all the other kids in my class.

Apparently, I looked so pathetic standing there awkwardly that one of the girls in my 8E class came up to me and told me I could come stand with her and her other friends. I joined them, and right after asking what my name was and what school I was from, they went right back to talking about their grade 7 experiences. I was, once again, closed out of the conversation. I just stood there struggling to keep up with the cutout pieces of the stories they were telling each other.

But at least it was a pretty mask to those looking from outside: I didn't look like a lonely loser anymore. I was standing with people. Even though I was deadweight in the conversation, maybe those looking at us from outside would think I was a fantastic listener waiting for the perfect moment to give my brilliant commentary into the conversation. At least I didn't look friendless.

When we went up to our register class, I was looking forward to just sitting alone in the corner and not being bothered. I just wanted to have my little mental dialogue and convince myself that things were going to be all right in the end. But then one of the prefects came to our class and said something in Afrikaans. She spoke way too fast for me to understand anything, so I asked the girl next to translate. "The 30 dollars for the initiation hats. She's coming to get it now." Wait, what 30 dollars? I didn't know about this! Once again, there was the drum of doom was in my heart.

I grabbed my bag and started turning it inside out, hoping to at least find some coins in there. After searching frantically through the entire bag, I found only 22 dollars.

The prefect got to my desk. "Where's your money? She asked.

I extended my coin filled hand and in a breaking voice said, "Sorry, I didn't know about the 30 dollars. I only have 22 dollars here, but I'll bring the rest tomorrow I promise."

Was it the pathetic high pitch of my voice? Was it the obvious tears in my eyes? Something made her, just say, "Okay, no problem. Just bring the rest tomorrow. And tell your parents to read the email we sent them. This was all in there."

When the prefect left, I tapped the girl next to me again and asked, "How do I get that email the prefect was talking about?" She didn't try too hard to hide the look of annoyance on her face. I had clearly committed a deadly sin interrupting her narration of Christmas at the beach.

She didn't bother to maintain eye contact with me as she answered, "Your parents. They got it." And once again I was staring at her back.

It got close to ten o'clock, break time, and I still had no one who wanted to sit with me. The voice in my head said, "Whatever you do, for God's sake, you can't look pathetically lonely out there!" I decided to try my luck with the girl next to me (she was part of the friends group I was invited to deadweight in the school hall), and I asked, "Hey, so where do you guys sit at break time?"

Again, she turned her annoyed face to me and said, "Nowhere. We just walk around the school." Now, what is the most pitifully pathetic thing a person can do when they're clearly not wanted in a group? What I did.

This girl clearly didn't give me the open arms invitation to join her group, but during break time, I still decided to follow her. The even more pathetic part was that she and her friends did the most to lose me. Whenever they looked behind and saw me following them, they walked faster and tried to dive into the crowd so I wouldn't find them. You would think I would maintain my dignity and just go sit somewhere else by myself. But no, I kept on trying to keep up with them and looking for them whenever I lost them. Until eventually, they just allowed me to walk by them quietly. The mask was back on. I didn't look friendless.

Later that afternoon, when my sister asked how school was, of course, I smiled and said, "It was fine," even though I was just glad it was all over.