The Lunch Room

The front door to the colossal building is intimidating enough, but I show up at exactly 10:45am and the bell has tolled for the lunch frenzy to begin. I slink into the office before the hoards start trampling the once docile hallways and sit in the chair by the office attendant. Every student is giving me a weird look as they glance by.

When I get called into the principal’s office, my shoe lace gets stuck on the chair, so the luck begins. I have always had bad luck with nervous situations and this isn’t going to be any exception. I was greeted by a quaint hello and forced to slump into another uncomfortable chair. The paperwork was nothing glamorous, but it kept me from the zoo of students in the common room.

I got out. Freedom was at my fingertips and all I wanted to do was cry. The principal, trying to be my friend, offered to buy me my first lunch. How great would I look then, walking with the principal and eating with these starchy people? My old school was great. I owned it with my five friends, ruling the recesses and hogging the slide. We were the big dogs and now, in such a short summer ride, became the wimps again.

Class is over and my mom is waiting outside in her new Volvo. She took the station wagon over the sports car, and that was to be my car upon my 16th birthday. I get in, pretend to dig through my bag as my mom asks how my day was and if I made any friends. In high school, you really don’t make friends, friends make you.

I turn and snicker. “Yeah, what do you think, I hid in the corner?” which is what I really did.

“Well no, I just thought you would meet some new people, make friends with the regulars.”

“Thanks, but no, Mom, The only regular people who would like me were back at the middle school in Illinois.”

My mother doesn’t get it. Moving 200 miles from Illinois to Hartland, Wisconsin was a big deal. It didn’t feel like much to her, but it was my halfway across the world. Everything changed for me and readjusting to this place will take more than she thinks.

Fortunately for me, the friends came fast. This school wasn’t so bad and the people were kind and actually saw me as a person and not the outcast that I got called back in Illinois. Arrowhead High School was the best thing that happened to me.

I am now a senior in high school and I see that it wasn’t so bad as long as you go to the right place. The hallways are still a traffic jam at 10:45am, but I learn to manage and become one of the 99% of students that become successful people, knowing I got the best education from Arrowhead High School.





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