The Shy Kid

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When I woke up to my first day of my new school, I was nervous as any new kid would be. Worst of all, it’s also my first day at high school. Yes, that’s right, I am a freshman, the species of students in high school no one in the upper classes like. We were their “fresh meat.”

I got out of my warm and comfortable bed, took a burning hot shower because of how cold I was, and put on some fresh new clothes. I wore a dark red sweatshirt with a pair of silver shorts. I put on my black and red basketball shoes and went downstairs to the kitchen.

I sat down at our rectangular wooden kitchen table and fixed myself some cereal in a white bowl and poured some milk as white and clean as the bowl. As I was eating, my hand was shaking not just because I was cold, but nervous about how high school would be like.

At my old school, there were a lot of obnoxious and rude kids there: the boys were bullies; the girls were very cliquey; and also, the teachers were too strict, not all that smart enough to teach, and couldn’t get the children under control. I would have a hard time learning because of these kids who act they were in elementary school. That school lacked school spirit, like no one would wear T-shirts saying the name of their school. They were all mean to me because I didn’t do or have anything cool. I was very shy to meet people like those. I tried to be nice, but they didn’t care about that at all. All they cared was how hot a girl or boy is and the seemingly cool stuff they do. The teachers were terrible at teaching, like last year, my Science teacher doesn’t really know how to teach us, so she explains a little bit of it and just gives us work to keep us busy. Yep, not the kind of school you should go to. This year, at my new school, it may happen again.

After I was about half done with my cereal, I noticed someone walking down the stairs. I turned around and looked at the clock. It was five-thirty in the morning. Since I’m an early bird, I wake up early a lot.

The man walking down the stairs was my dad, a six-foot zero tall man with brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a black suit with a red tie. The reason he looked so nice was because he was leaving on a business trip all the way to Jerusalem to promote his business as a marketer at Intel.

“Good morning, Will,” my father said sounding in a good mood.

“G’ morning, dad,” I said to him, trying to sound in a good mood, which apparently worked.

“You excited for your first day at your new school?”

“I don’t know…”

Dad gave me a confused look.

“Why would you not be excited? I heard this school is among one of the highest rated schools in the entire state!”

“First of all, it’s a new school. Second, it’s high school. And third, remember my old school? It was very difficult for me to make friends with that kind of environment!”

“Well, Will, the third part, well… it’s the past now. This is the future. Just because those rude children were being mean to you doesn’t mean they’re going to happen at this new school.”

“Yeah, Dad, but even if I was in the nicest school on earth, I would still have trouble making friends. Whenever I tried to talk to someone, I get all shy and just walk away.”

My dad continued to talk to me as he was making his coffee. He turned on the coffee maker. I then heard the big noise from the coffee maker for about thirty seconds. He liked his coffee black with nothing in it. I could smell it already.

“Yeah, I hear you do have problems with shyness, but you can be able to overcome it. Like I did.”

I was confused for a second. My dad was one of the most popular kids in school. He was on the varsity tennis team when he was in high school. He even played the nationals for UCLA, where he went for college. He was shy?

“You were shy?” I said shocked.

“Indeed I was,” he said as he sipped his coffee. He sat down at the table with me and said, “I want to tell you a little story before you head off to school.
“I was really quiet around the team members, and I really wanted to get to know them. I wanted to make friends, and this was a way I could make friends. Unfortunately, I was too chicken to even say a simple ‘hi.’ I wanted to make friends with this one kid, David Smith. One day, I decided that shyness wasn’t going to hold me back. So I went up to David, and then I said to him a simple ‘hi,’ and he said ‘hi’ back with a smile on his face. We had a short conversation about how’s tennis, what matches we’ve been in, etc. The next day, we had another short conversation. Then the next day, and the next day, and the next day. Eventually, we became best friends. He even introduced me to some of his friends, and I made friends with them. Suddenly, I was recognized around the school. People started saying ‘hi’ to me, and I said ‘hi’ back to them. I even had conversations with all of them. To think, all of this happened by just a simple ‘hi.’”
I was stunned by dad’s inspiring story. Just a simple “hi” created all that popularity?
“Simple ‘hi,’ huh. I can’t even do that.”
“Son, watch your language,” my father said tough, yet calmly.
“What? I didn’t say any bad language.” I said surprised.
“Yes you did. You said the word ‘can’t’, don’t ever say that. Don’t ever say you can’t do something just because of some silly reason. You have to keep trying in order to get that ‘t’ out of the word. You can do it, and I know you can.”
Dad’s black wristwatch beeped.
“Oh, I gotta run, sport. I love you. Remember what I said.”
Dad picked up his briefcase and walked towards the door.
“To think, all of this happened by just a simple ‘hi,” Dad’s words echoed in my brain. I was still amazed about how all that happened.
“Oh,” my dad said as he was about to walk out the door. “And remember, sport. Just be yourself.”

My dad closed the door. How could I be myself if I’m shy?


An hour later after dad left, I was all ready for school. My teeth are fidgeting and I could still taste the mint toothpaste in my mouth. I filled my heavy backpack with all my binders. Mom made me a special lunch for today. She always does that on special occasions, like on the first day of school, but that doesn’t cheer me up from how well I’d cooperate with others.

My mom also decided to drive me to school today. She pretty much celebrates everything with me, since I was her only child. Anyway, I got into my mom’s red Honda Pilot, and we drove off. My body was shaking as if I had Parkinson’s disease. I could smell that new car smell, since my mom got this new car about a few weeks ago.

I arrived at the school. I looked up and saw the school sign:

ABRAHAM LINCOLN HIGH SCHOOL
Home of the Eagles


The school was built with red bricks and looked a lot bigger than my old school. Like, about two times bigger I guess. I saw many other kids out there walking to the school. Most of them were wearing warm clothes, and I was too. It was wet outside because it rained earlier in the morning.
I jumped out of the car, got my backpack from the back seat, and said goodbye to my mom. As I was walking towards the school, I watched the red Honda Pilot drive off with my mom in it. I continued to walk nervously on the wet ground, thinking about how my day will end up. Is this going to go well or not? Then I remembered what my dad had said, “And remember, sport. Be yourself.”
I walked up to the entrance, and it was crowded with kids. They were all talking about things they did over the summer, what happened to this person and other stuff like that. The students were in line to receive their final schedules, and apparently so was I.
I looked around at the other kids, and suddenly behind me, I noticed another kid who had that “deer-in-the-headlights” look on his face. Wow, I thought. Someone is more nervous that I am. He seemed lonely, because he had no one to talk to. He needed a friend.
“Hi,” I said.

THE END





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