The first three people enter the room. All boys. One of them is tall with long red hair brushed to the side. He wears a hockey sweatshirt with a number 45 on the front. The next is tiny with strawberry-blonde hair. He wears a basketball jersey for Redo, which strikes me as strange. I’m easily two inches taller than him, and I’m not that tall. The third is medium height, brown hair, tan skin, same jersey as the tiny one. They stare at me for a second and then continue on with their conversation. One of them, the small one, sits down at Seat 20, which happens to be my social studies seat. That makes him Leo, I think. I think that’s who the sheet said sits in that seat for homeroom.
More and more people enter the room. I get my share of stares and whispers. A couple people come up to say hello or ask me if I’m new (the answer is obvious). Sarah Astbury comes in with a blonde girl. They’re laughing, best friends, I assume. I send her a quick smile, but she doesn’t even look towards me. I’m just like any other person in the class, I guess.
Mr. Ralston comes into the classroom and closes the door. “Everyone, find your seats!” he says loudly. Kids casually walk to wherever their desks are supposed to be. Three girls sit down at my table. I assume this is Eva, Taylor, and Nicole.
“Hi, I’m Nicole,” says the girl next to me. She brushes her blonde braid off her right shoulder and smiles.
“Becca,” I respond. Across from me is another blonde girl, tinier than little Leo. Next to her is a taller girl with light brown hair. They both look up at Mr. Ralston, not paying attention to me. I’m okay with that.
“As you can all see, we have a new student today,” I look down. Of course he would call me out. Great. “Becca Kinger. I expect you all to be helpful young persons, which I know will not be difficult for any of you.”
I hear someone groan, a boy, I assume. I don’t know who. Although I know that sort of thing happens, people groaning for you, I mean, and that it really doesn’t mean anything, it still hurts. Some boy in this class doesn’t want me here. I agree with him, I don’t want me here either. I would much rather be in Chicago with the Homeschool Crew than here in Random Town, Michigan. What would I give to be playing duck-duck-goose and sharing bored looks with my friends? Even Mom’s stupid games would be more enjoyable than being the new kid of Redo Middle School.
“Other than that, I don’t think there’s anything else we need to talk about. If you have any last minute homework to finish up, now would be a great time to do that. If not, well, I guess you can just socialize amongst yourselves,” our teacher finishes. He comes over to me and says quietly, “I don’t know what your other teachers said about assignments for their classes, but for social studies we’ll just be going over a notes packet. You can follow along in class.”
“Okay, thank you,” I smile. None of my other teachers wanted me to do any of the assignments. We’d be going over all of them in class, they’d said. Nicole, the girl sitting next to me, turned to the side and started talking to someone at the table behind us. The girls across from me were talking to each other. Nobody pays any attention to me, and while I know it shouldn’t bother me, it does. I have nobody in this class. But what did I expect? For everyone to instantly become friends with me? Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.
YOU ARE READING
What We Lost In The Winter
Novela JuvenilBecca Kingser almost died when she was eight years old. Ever since then, she's been homeschooled with her sisters. One of them is a bouncy, energetic little girl, the other is a closed-off mystery. But when Becca's mom finds a new job in Michigan, t...
