Young Writers Society

* REPRESENTS FOOTNOTE

“So I didn’t change too much,” said Mr. Shapiro, the last-names-A-through-M counselor at Union County High School since 1998. “As you can see.”

He handed me my copy of my barely new and barely improved school schedule.

As long as I don't have math class first period, I'm willing to look past having history last.

Aunt Tracy had woken me up at five-thirty, and I was sitting in Mr. Shapiro's freezing cold office barely functioning.

"Any questions?" He asked, leaning back in that stupid swivel chair all credulous and authoritative with that even more ridiculous business casual outfit on.

Mr. Shapiro thinks he's Mr. Obama.

"What about lunch? Is the lunch free?"

Of course you could never ask Tracy Hunter if she had any questions without getting any questions.

"Since you're retired, Donna is eligible. That's already been put into place." He looked at me with a smile. "Nothing to worry about there. Anything else?"

"Does Adrian Santorio go here?" I asked as suddenly as it came to mind.

His head cocked ever so slightly, thinking.

"Not this year," he finally said. "She did last year."

"Oh," wondering what changed.

Not too big of a deal. At least Tori's here.

"So," as he scribbled something on a post-it note, "would you like me to walk you to your first class?"

Aunt Tracy grabbed her purse. "I think he should, Donna."

"No, it's okay, I can walk myself," I told her, standing up from my seat and picking up my bag. "Thank you for the offer."

"Just doing my job," said Mr. Shapiro while I slung my bookbag strap around my shoulder. "Mrs. Harrison's class is the third class down that hallway; you'll see when you step out."

"You sure you don't want a map of the school or something?" Aunt Tracy double-checked, right behind me as I headed out the door.

I shook my head. "It's okay," walking out, "see you later."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

When I first entered the class, I immediately noticed Alia Donofrio at the front of the classroom, sitting next to an above-average looking Indian girl.

Alia was another girl I'd known since elementary school. I wasn't the nicest to her, if I'm completely honest. Tori always used to pick her to play with instead of me, and I was jealous of that. By fifth grade, I'd matured a bit, but Alia never warmed up to me. It was deeply awkward, seeing her three years later.

She didn't look all that different. Same curly brown hair, same chubby face, same friendly personality. Only when she saw me, she'd pretended she didn't. I made a mental note to apologize to her for being a little nuisance.

Awkwardly, I was seated right behind her, by myself.

Alia and Kira* were laughing back and forth, barely whispering, about something that happened at lunch the day before. I did want to say something to Alia, but I was scared of how that would turn out. It wasn't exactly like I could blame her if she would've just ignored me, but I figured I'd do us both a favor and spare the discomfort.

Mrs. Harrison was nice enough. We did the back and forth, getting-to-know-one-another teacher talk that every new kid knows and probably hates. Considering the students were in the middle of an essay assignment, she told me to sit the lessons out until the unit was over as she'd find something else for me to do. Perfectly fine by me.

That is one of the few perks of being the new kid. All the exemptions.

I spent the period continuing White Oleander, wondering what was on the menu for lunch and if I would even eat.

Another random mental note; get a library card.

I got bored in the last five minutes and made a little book list.

And others I couldn't think of at that moment.

Of course, I missed Groupie terribly and had been sneak-checking my phone every few minutes to see if she'd responded to my good morning text message. She hadn't, but I wasn't bothered. She was obviously in school. Nonetheless, I messaged her again in the bathroom between classes.

hi i know ur in school so i hope i don't get u

in any trouble. how is ur day going? had my first

day back today :)

No. Get rid of the smiley face.

hope ur having a good day so far!! also hope 

i don't get u in trouble. ur probably in school. 

i wasnt expecting u to text me last night.

A little better.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Tori was the first person I saw when I stepped foot in Mr. Scott's advisory class, on the other side of the school's lower level. She didn't notice me at first, chatting and laughing away with another girl. A very pretty girl.

She looked almost entirely different. The only reason I still knew it was her was because of the mild discoloration on her left arm. Her vitiligo. Mild, like I said, but very distinct. Otherwise, her hair was now styled into long butterfly locs and she had developed a fashion fairycore-esque fashion sense.

It was loud, to an almost overstimulating extent, and the teacher was nowhere to be seen. It made me glad that I'd brought my earbuds and CD player with me.

The only open seat was right behind Tori, which seemed to be saying Come on, Donna, come sit with your best friend. So I did, and…

She didn't notice me.

Five minutes later, her ameliorated new best friend went to the bathroom, and then she turned and saw me. I waited for some sign of relief or joy to cross her face, but it never came.

"You look so gorgeous," I said first, as though it were highly significant. "I fucking missed you. I saw Mike at Walmart a few days ago, he told me you were back. I was so excited, I thought I would never see you again. How are you, how's your mother?"

"Yeah, my mom's doing good. I'm doing pretty well."

She offered me a grin-and-bear-it sort of plastic smile and nothing more. I guess she thought that's all I deserved.

"Thank you for coming and checking on me. It's nice to see you too, Donna, but... God, how do I say this? I know you've had a rough three or so years, but... could you possibly sit somewhere else? That seat is taken."

Oh.

In an alternate universe, I had the perfect comeback. I didn't go silent. My throat didn't immediately tighten because deep down, I knew this could be a possibility. And I didn't feel like I was in the fourth grade all over again, eating lunch with the teacher because the kids went out of their way to make me feel excluded.

But she would not see me cry over her.

"We're best friends," was all I had. "Since third grade."

Tori looks around, presumably for that blondie friend of hers. "Okay, look," she sighed, "I know we were really close and stuff when we were younger because you didn't really have a lot of friends. But we're at that age where people are starting to make their own friends and do their own thing, and, Donna, I don't think I really wanna hang out with you anymore. Sorry. You're a nice girl, I'm just," looking around again, "I'm growing up now and... I just can't be seen with you anymore."

"Can't be seen with me anymore?"

Her face grew tense. I was going to make this hard for her; make her say everything she didn't want to.

"God, Donna. Let's face it. Sometimes you're a little weird. I know you have autism and that's why I never wanted to just leave you all alone. But now, well... it would be embarrassing for me, because I'm well liked. I'm popular. I have a boyfriend. I mean, I have a life now, and so many people at this school only remember us because of how weird you were. And I know it's not your fault. I really am not trying to be a bitch about this. I just want to be honest with you because I feel like you deserve that from me."

She was quiet for one, two, three, four, five seconds, waiting for me to argue. But I did not. I wanted to, but the words were lodged in my throat. Angled at an extent to which they'd never be retrieved. They'd sit there and slowly decompose.

"Maybe it's best you find other autistic people to be—"

Without a word, I gathered myself and picked up my things without even giving her a chance to say anything else to me.

"Donna," almost apologetically, "please don't be upset. I was hoping you'd understand."

I ignored her faux simpering voice and moved across the room like she requested, sat by a window with my arms crossed, and didn't say a fucking word. My eyes were burning, my chest hurt, and the lump in my throat was the size of a softball, but I would not give her the satisfaction. She didn't care, so neither did I.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Lunch was depressing, as it always had been. I sat at a table towards the back of the cafeteria. On the left end sat the alt kids. Four girls, two boys, exchanging fantasy books with one another. On the right sat me and only me, without a lunch tray. I wasn't hungry, and I didn't even bother getting out my CD player.

I couldn't stop looking at Tori's table from my seat.

Wonder what's so funny.

What was it about the popular kids that made them have this chronic laughing syndrome? How do they enjoy life after treating people like dog shit at the bottom of their shoes? How could Tori do that to me?

They must not be thinking about it. That's what it is. They're so self-involved. Too self-absorbed to care. They have no idea that other people even exist. But bitterness rots the bones. Remember.

Still. I couldn't help but be bitter. Tori was just like everyone else. A pity friend. That meant I had actually never had a real best friend.

It all made me think of that short period of time in fifth grade, when the popular girls adopted Tori and I into their friend group but still made it very clear that I was not like them.

All I did was follow them around pathetically like a little puppy and hope they would let me play with them. But every time I asked, they'd go. We're gonna go have a talk, we'll be right back or There's no place for another person but you can be the referee if you want to.

And for the rest of the day, I’d wonder what I was doing wrong.

I looked around at every other table. Only a few other people were sitting alone, but I got the impression they were only introverts. They looked comfortable, with their books and their iPods and their sketchbooks.

Almost made me sick to my stomach how blithe everyone was.

Just then, my phone made that new buzz buzz vibration sound that I'd decided I preferred over that grating bing sound.

i feel sooo bad that im getting back to you so late. hi flower.

dont worry about getting me into trouble. im not at school

right now. i go as least as i possibly can without breaking the

law. i don't plan on finishing. im with my bf <3 ive been

feeling sick for a few days now. hes here at the trailer taking

care of me.

Flower. Now I have to legally change my name to Flower. God, I'm lonely.

aw don't feel bad pretty girl*. i hope u feel better soon.

and i suppose with ur plans u wouldnt need a diploma.

are ur parents working? how sweet is ur bf to take the

day off school to take care of u. lucky. i hate it here.

work, not school. why arent you

having a good day? did smth happen?

just shitty friends. the girl i thought was my best friend

suddenly thinks shes too good for me. shes all popular

now and stuff.

why do they always become popular? dont think abt her.

do you wanna come over after school? its ok if you cant. ik

we havent known each other long, which is so hard to

believe because i feel like i’ve known you my whole life.

Actually, I would've loved nothing more than that. Too bad I’d just met her and there was no way Aunt Tracy would’ve let me spend the evening alone with someone I just met - especially someone who calls themself ‘Groupie.’

my aunt definitely won't let me go to your house

after one day. and even so she'd have to meet your

parents. maybe this weekend.

okay. come saturday morning*. ill have my big sister play mom.

shes done it plenty of times before. maybe she’ll even take us to

7/11 and i can introduce you to jolie dipietro.

i don't think she'd want me meeting older people 

without her meeting them first either

Riiiing. Sixth period.

guess we'll both be lying to your aunt this

weekend. no offense but how else are we

supposed to have any fun?

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

FOOTNOTES:

* - I soon found out Kira was the Indian girl's name

* - if we were going to continue with the nicknames

* - whatever that meant

* - I figured I'd ask her about this another time

* - I tried to suppress my stupid happy smile, despite the prior events and having not realized I was watching myself fall in love