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1,000 Mile Difference

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I couldn’t believe I was sitting at a lunch table by myself for two straight weeks. All I could think about was my home back in Minnesota along with my family and friends. Moving here was the worst thing that had ever happened to me and I just couldn’t fit in at this new school. The only bad thing that occurred in Minnesota was breaking my wrist snowboarding. Speeding down the side of the mountain, the enormous jump looming ahead in the flurry of snow, I catapulted into the air with the landing spot just five feet below.

“Excuse me,” it was the lunch attendant, “you have to get to 6th period.” School was the same every day with the dreadful six hours of embarrassment, bullying, and a lot of teachers losing their temper with me. Social Studies was the worst period with Ms. Clark pointing me out to answer her question every time I spaced out daydreaming, as well as containing the class bully Peter.

“Eddy, I’m not going to ask you again,” Ms. Clark hollered, “What is the capital of Pennsylvania?” I finally exited my trance to notice the teacher fuming.

“Florida,” I guessed.

“No Eddy, the capital of Pennsylvania is Harrisburg,” she explained. The entire class was hunched over laughing and pointing in my direction.

“Sorry,” I remarked. Since moving to this lovely city of Charleston, South Carolina, I had been the laughing stock of the grade whether it is about my “northern hillbilly clothes”, classroom antics, or even strange hobbies. Gym is my personal favorite class despite the fact that Peter is with me, and we are playing my favorite sport, hockey. Skating down with wide-open ice ahead, between the legs of one defender, just the goalie left. Peter came up and slashed me with his stick right in the shins.

“Why don’t you do something about it loser,” Peter mumbled. He didn’t know that hockey was my favorite sport in Minnesota, and I body checked him into the wall. School was just like that for about another two months as I longed to go back home and hike Eagle Mountain with my old friend Jackson. Everyday rushing to get to school, cutting across the lush green lawns of neighbors, dodging palm trees, and scurrying across the creek bridge to arrive at the bus stop. One morning on the bus Peter said something that made me lose my temper and I walked over to him and punched him in the gut. He stood right back up and was about to counter with an attack when out of nowhere, a kid named Tyler pushed him into the bus seat. Right there I realized that I had made my first friend even though it was at the expense of my afternoon in detention. Tyler and I walked home together that day once Mrs. Johnson let us out of detention and figured out we lived on the same block.

“Thanks again for what you did on the bus this morning,” I announced awkwardly.

“No problem,” Tyler stated, “Do you want to hang out after school tomorrow?”

“ I’d like that a lot,” I replied. We parted ways and when my mom asked how school was during dinner I told her I made my first friend. Tyler and I hung out every day from that point on and skateboarding became my new hobby. This experience made me realize that new things are good to try out, eventually everything works out your way, and it just takes time to fit in.





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