Chapter Two: School Stories
So I’d moved into a crazy neighborhood with two little kids who think it’s fun to throw rotting food at me. On one hand, not who I would’ve chosen to have as my neighbors. On the other hand, it sounded like the perfect story to tell when I’d start fifth grade in a few days.
The days before school passed pretty quickly. I think Mom was happy - she’d had us wait until the end of the summer to move so I could still spend time with friends in our old neighborhood in Shreveport, but I didn’t know anybody in Texas. Still, we filled that time with back-to-school shopping and games.
I didn’t see the crazy kids again, though I was a bit jumpier than usual when I was outside. The weather was like sidewalk-melting hot, though, so I wasn't outside very often. Gee, I didn’t even know whether the kids lurked in one of our neighbor’s houses or not. It could’ve been any of the houses (except the yellow one) or maybe the kids were just visiting a relative or something and figured nobody would ever see them again here.
When the bus finally came for the first day of school, I thought I’d get another opinion. I was burning to tell the story of the kids who threw rolls at me.
Before I could spook myself into sitting alone, I chose a seat at the front of the bus next to a girl who was reading a book.
“What’s your name?” I asked after a moment.
“Ash,” she said, lowering the book.
Now here, you have a couple of options depending on how you want to be perceived.
Cool Reply: “Like a volcano?”
Expected Reply: “Cool. My name is Adam.”
Never Want Talk to This Person Again: “My great grandpa is ash”
I opted for the second option.
“Hi Adam. Who’s your teacher?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I just moved here.”
“Cool. From where?”
“Shreveport.”
“Where’s that?”
“Louisiana.”
“I’ve always lived in Texas. What’s Louisiana like?”
“It’s cool. I like it. I’m liking Texas so far too, but I’ve got really crazy neighbors.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, there are these two kids who threw dinner rolls at me when they saw me!” I decided to leave out the mold soup for now.
Ash didn’t seem to know whether I was kidding or not. “Oh, that’s weird.”
“Yeah, totally!”
It was a lot more awkward than I thought it’d be to try to explain the crazy kids in the bushes.
Then, the conversation fizzled. On second thought, maybe I should have opted to ask Ash if she was named after a volcano. She’d been reading a book, so I couldn’t really expect her to talk the whole bus ride. I was still glad I sat with somebody though.
We didn’t talk about much else on the bus, and I spent most of my time staring out the smudged window at all the unfamiliar streets. Eventually, I would know these streets, but for now, they made me think of living in Shreveport and sitting on the bus with Sophie and Paul. Never a dull moment there.
When the bus pulled up to school, I walked in and asked the lady in the front office to look up who my teacher was. Then, I picked a desk and waited. Slowly my classmates trickled in. The bus kids were already here, of course, but everyone else ranged from being there 10 minutes early to socialize, to running through the door 3 minutes after class began because of the carpool.
The school day was mainly introductions and talking about what we’d be learning all year instead of learning anything.
I listened and then bustled off to lunch, where I chose a table to join. I didn’t know anyone, so I hung back as my class walked to lunch. After getting hot lunch, I picked a table with a lot of people, including a pretty girl with little sparkly earrings and a white shirt with glittery butterflies on it.
I tried to mainly observe and learn about my classmates, but mid-lunch found myself instead retelling the story of the rolls.
“And they threw rolls at me!”
“Dude, nobody threw rolls at you.”
"You would not believe these two crazy kids. Literally!!"
“Maybe he’s telling the truth,” the girl with the butterfly shirt said from the end of the table. “I don’t know. What else happened?”
She was pretty. And she stuck up for me. Cool.
There was a smattering of discussion at this, and the general consensus still seemed to be I was making it all up and was going to be the class clown.
“You guys will have to come over some day,” I said. “But if the kids come back with a bowl or rotten tomatoes or something, I’ll hide behind you.”
Before I knew it, the bell rang.
As we were lining up to leave lunch to go to recess, I walked up behind the girl who had asked me to continue my story earlier. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“I’m Stella.”
“Nice… I’m Adam. Want to play Four Square?”
“No thanks,” she said as we walked through the cafeteria door outside.
As Stella walked away, I stood surveying the playground, deciding what to do.
“Dude, you like Stella,” a voice said from beside me. I looked around. A short redhead boy stood next to me. “It’s cool. Your secret is safe with me.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Olly.”
The days before school passed pretty quickly. I think Mom was happy - she’d had us wait until the end of the summer to move so I could still spend time with friends in our old neighborhood in Shreveport, but I didn’t know anybody in Texas. Still, we filled that time with back-to-school shopping and games.
I didn’t see the crazy kids again, though I was a bit jumpier than usual when I was outside. The weather was like sidewalk-melting hot, though, so I wasn't outside very often. Gee, I didn’t even know whether the kids lurked in one of our neighbor’s houses or not. It could’ve been any of the houses (except the yellow one) or maybe the kids were just visiting a relative or something and figured nobody would ever see them again here.
When the bus finally came for the first day of school, I thought I’d get another opinion. I was burning to tell the story of the kids who threw rolls at me.
Before I could spook myself into sitting alone, I chose a seat at the front of the bus next to a girl who was reading a book.
“What’s your name?” I asked after a moment.
“Ash,” she said, lowering the book.
Now here, you have a couple of options depending on how you want to be perceived.
Cool Reply: “Like a volcano?”
Expected Reply: “Cool. My name is Adam.”
Never Want Talk to This Person Again: “My great grandpa is ash”
I opted for the second option.
“Hi Adam. Who’s your teacher?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I just moved here.”
“Cool. From where?”
“Shreveport.”
“Where’s that?”
“Louisiana.”
“I’ve always lived in Texas. What’s Louisiana like?”
“It’s cool. I like it. I’m liking Texas so far too, but I’ve got really crazy neighbors.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, there are these two kids who threw dinner rolls at me when they saw me!” I decided to leave out the mold soup for now.
Ash didn’t seem to know whether I was kidding or not. “Oh, that’s weird.”
“Yeah, totally!”
It was a lot more awkward than I thought it’d be to try to explain the crazy kids in the bushes.
Then, the conversation fizzled. On second thought, maybe I should have opted to ask Ash if she was named after a volcano. She’d been reading a book, so I couldn’t really expect her to talk the whole bus ride. I was still glad I sat with somebody though.
We didn’t talk about much else on the bus, and I spent most of my time staring out the smudged window at all the unfamiliar streets. Eventually, I would know these streets, but for now, they made me think of living in Shreveport and sitting on the bus with Sophie and Paul. Never a dull moment there.
When the bus pulled up to school, I walked in and asked the lady in the front office to look up who my teacher was. Then, I picked a desk and waited. Slowly my classmates trickled in. The bus kids were already here, of course, but everyone else ranged from being there 10 minutes early to socialize, to running through the door 3 minutes after class began because of the carpool.
The school day was mainly introductions and talking about what we’d be learning all year instead of learning anything.
I listened and then bustled off to lunch, where I chose a table to join. I didn’t know anyone, so I hung back as my class walked to lunch. After getting hot lunch, I picked a table with a lot of people, including a pretty girl with little sparkly earrings and a white shirt with glittery butterflies on it.
I tried to mainly observe and learn about my classmates, but mid-lunch found myself instead retelling the story of the rolls.
“And they threw rolls at me!”
“Dude, nobody threw rolls at you.”
"You would not believe these two crazy kids. Literally!!"
“Maybe he’s telling the truth,” the girl with the butterfly shirt said from the end of the table. “I don’t know. What else happened?”
She was pretty. And she stuck up for me. Cool.
There was a smattering of discussion at this, and the general consensus still seemed to be I was making it all up and was going to be the class clown.
“You guys will have to come over some day,” I said. “But if the kids come back with a bowl or rotten tomatoes or something, I’ll hide behind you.”
Before I knew it, the bell rang.
As we were lining up to leave lunch to go to recess, I walked up behind the girl who had asked me to continue my story earlier. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“I’m Stella.”
“Nice… I’m Adam. Want to play Four Square?”
“No thanks,” she said as we walked through the cafeteria door outside.
As Stella walked away, I stood surveying the playground, deciding what to do.
“Dude, you like Stella,” a voice said from beside me. I looked around. A short redhead boy stood next to me. “It’s cool. Your secret is safe with me.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Olly.”
Next: Chapter Three
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