“I bet this is completely freaking you out. Dewy High can be a cesspool of cliques and drama sometimes, but you’ll get used to it. Are you freaking out? I know I would be.”
I couldn’t help laughing at her words. “Freaking out” was one way to put it. “I am freaking a little,” I admitted, downplaying it a bit. “I’m not even sure how I’m supposed to figure all this out,” I said, holding up my schedule, which was still foreign to me.
“Your schedule? That’s easy,” she said, pausing in the hallway. “Here, let me see it.” She held out her hand for my sweaty, crumpled schedule. “Okay, so these are your classes,” she said, pointing to the first column. “This is the room number, and this is your lunch period. Hey, you can eat with me and my friends if you want,” she said excitedly.
Joyful thoughts danced in my head from her invitation. Lunch was an obstacle I wouldn’t even let myself think about.
“Mr. Knight’s class is room 112, and the numbers run in sequence from there. One hundreds are on this floor and the two hundreds are level two. The cafeteria is down that hall. Easy, right?” Heather chattered along, barely stopping for air as she pointed to the left. “Oh, and the gymnasium is down that way, but I see you lucked out and didn’t get stuck with gym anyway. I’m totally jealous. My dad is, like, an exercise nut. He insists I take PE every semester. I think he’s afraid I’m going to get fat, but please. I bet I burn most of my calories for the day making runs for the office. You should see if you can become an aide next year and we can totally hang out.”
We’d known each other for all of five minutes and Heather was talking to me like we were old friends. She was definitely cool. “Sounds easy enough,” I answered when I could get a word in.
“Okay, I better head back to the office before Claudia sends out a posse. She’s always saying that I screw around too much on my runs. Please. I’m just more helpful than all her other aides. Mr. Knight’s class is right there. Do you want me to go in with you? I can do that. I probably should have offered that from the beginning.”
Before I could even think about answering, she was already striding toward the classroom door. She opened it like she seemed to do everything else—in a rush. The door banged into the wall, scaring everyone inside, but Heather didn’t seem to notice as she flounced into the room without a care in the world. I envied her confidence.
“Good morning, Mr. Knight, this is your new student,” Heather announced. I flushed when all eyes in the room pivoted to me.
“Ah, yes, you must be Mia. I’ve been expecting you. It’s a pleasure to have you,” Mr. Knight said, holding out his hand. “I received your test scores on Friday and I’m not going to lie, they blew me away,” he said, completely ignoring Heather who gasped at his words and was rendered silent for the first time since I met her. “You know your history,” Mr. Knight continued, shaking my hand vigorously.
I could feel my skin warming again. “Thank you,” I whispered, trying not to look at the class who was studying me even more intently after his statement.
“I better head back to the office,” Heather said, whirling around wistfully. “Mia, I’ll meet you outside the cafeteria at lunchtime,” she said, exiting the room much like she had entered it.
“Mia, you can sit in the empty desk next to Connor,” Mr. Knight instructed me. “Connor, raise your hand, please.”
I nodded, making my way anxiously down the row so I could sit as soon as possible. Mr. Knight continued with the lecture he’d obviously been in the middle of when Heather and I showed up. It took me a few minutes to calm down enough to take in my surroundings. Some of my fear evaporated. I was sitting in an honest-to-goodness classroom and I was still alive. It was every bit as I imagined it would be, complete with overflowing bookshelves and a towering stack of papers on the edge of Mr. Knight’s desk.
The desk I’d been assigned to was in the second row, three seats back, so I had a view of almost the entire room without having to crane my neck. The room was less crowded than I expected with fourteen students by my count, including me. Other than that, it lived up to all my expectations. No one was looking at me, which I was immensely grateful for.
Mr. Knight talked until the bell rang. I noticed that everyone in the class was busily scribbling notes to keep up with him. Feeling like I was doing something wrong, I opened up my own notebook, but didn’t know what I should write down. He was discussing the first stages of the Civil War in great detail, but I already knew everything he was covering. I’d previously written a sixteen-page report on the Civil War and used every resource Judy dragged home from the library for me. The subject had sparked some interest in me so I devoured anything I could get my hands on.
Mr. Knight had a soothing voice, and a nice way of explaining it that made the subject even more interesting, so it was easy to listen to him.
Everyone scrambled to their feet in a rush when the bell rang. I grabbed my bag and peered at my schedule in a panic. My next class was room 122, so at least I was still on the right floor.
“Mia, a word,” Mr. Knight called after me before I could follow the crowd out of the room.
I paused at the door, wondering if I’d done something wrong. Maybe I was supposed to take notes after all.
“Well, what did you think?” he asked.
His question caught me off guard. When it came to school, no one had really asked me what I thought. Judy was certainly never interested in my opinions.
“I liked it. You have a great way of explaining a tough, detailed subject.”
“I noticed you didn’t take notes.”
I shifted my feet. “I sorta know everything you talked about,” I answered, afraid he might get upset.
He barked out a loud laugh, making me flinch. “That’s what I figured. I hope I didn’t bore you.”
“Oh no. It was nice to hear your explanation,” I answered honestly. “It was more entertaining than just reading about it.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Feel free to add to the discussion tomorrow. I would love to hear your insights. You better head to class now before you’re late,” he said as students starting filing into his class.
“Okay,” I answered, hurrying off. I didn’t see myself ever feeling comfortable enough to talk out loud, but I liked Mr. Knight a lot. If all my teachers were as cool, maybe school would be survivable. Between Heather and AP American History, I was feeling faintly better.
I found my second-period class a minute before the bell rang. The room was fuller than AP History and everyone seemed to be looking at the same thing—me. I pretended I didn’t notice when three girls in the back leaned in together and started whispering while never taking their eyes off me.