There was laughter and hugs from the sixth and seventh graders. How could they be laughing at such a sad time? The eighth grade, us, the ones moving on to a dozen different high schools, cried. The guys tried to act tough, but there nostalgia all around. This group, this group of one-hundred people, would never be together again.
I had friends, people I loved, who I would never see again. Summer, that would be over in a blink. I was attending a school that would begin early, August 11th. I didn't want to shed those I loved like skin on a snake. They were the ones who had kicked me down, helped me back up, and had always been there for me.
Did I want a new start? Yeah,sure, popularity would be pretty cool in high school. But I was scared. All by myself, at an all-girls school of all-cool people. Not "coolio."
I'd never fit in. And so, leaving my few friends behind, I pondered. Did I truly wish to attend this Christian high school? Did I, or rather, could I, change to fit in? Get the California beach tan that the others got when they hiked down to the beach?
No, I could not. I hugged each friend dearly and no longer cried. I smiled, a nervous laugh breaking through the facade.
I would define myself. I could work to keep my friends close. I WOULD work to keep my friends close. I would define how I looked, acted, and was friends with. I could change the middle/high school transition. I WOULD change the transition. I would keep my friends while everyone made anew with another. Because, well, that's just who I am.