The Lucky Friend

It’s my first day of school and already I know that my high school years are going to be interesting. I am sure that being a “new kid” from down south in a popular school such as this would always be interesting. Never did I dream that I would leave my home state, but I guess things happen for the best.

So here I am, fifteen years old and starting out as a freshman at Willow High. The second I walk through the doors I feel myself being calculated and weighed by every student I pass and I thought of what they saw. Already I was tall, six feet and 150 pounds. My hair is black and cut short because of the heat of my home state. I was thankful for my eyes though. Eyes that always looked piercing and had a way of hiding what I was really feeling. So walking down the hall as a rather good-looking freshman, I didn’t feel too nervous.

From my pocket I pull out a schedule I folded more times than was necessary. I glance at it and note that my first class is P.E.

“Of course,” I thought. “That is just my luck.”

The school gym was really big, made of cinder blocks the size of my arm. Walking out the back doors and onto the lush grass of the football field made me crave the familiar feel of the ball and cheering of fans. Back home I was the star football player and in such a small town, it was a big deal. Here though, the stands were empty.

Off to the side of the grass I notice a student sitting alone, staring in my direction.

“Football season has just started,” A look of surprise came over his face when I spoke as if he didn’t expect me to even acknowledge him. “The goal posts aren’t even up yet.”

He seemed hesitant to speak at first then made up his mind that I was no threat. “In Willow we take more pride in our basketball team, haven’t lost a single game for three years. You must be a new kid.”

His voice cracked horribly and I could tell he was the kind of nerdy freshman that would definitely ruin any chance of me making good friends.

“What’s your name?” He asked shyly.

“Arie Johnson. How about you?”

He got up and scrambled to shake my hand. “Finch Ruben, It is a pleasure to meet you.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Finch is your name?”

“Er… actually, my real name is Mark. In elementary people started calling me Finch.” He laughs nervously.

I was quiet for a few seconds.

“Do you like that name?” I finally ask.

“Well…..” His eyes never seem to meet mine. “I’m used to it I guess.”

I decide to let the conversation pass; he already seemed uncomfortable as it was. Being the nice guy he was, he even gave me a tour of the school and told me a little about my teachers. By the time the first bell rang I knew where the cafeteria and all my classes were and I had made a very good friend.

When I stepped into my P.E. class I again felt myself being judged by fellow classmates. Some smiled and nodded in an approving manner and others glared. All there reactions made me feel good.

“You can love me or hate me all you want,” I thought smirking a bit. “At least I have one friend.”

Coach Conway called for all of us to line up; we were going to choose teams for dodge ball. This is the moment that some people dread and some love. It really just depended on how popular you were.

Teachers think that it’s a simple thing to do, just pick people and play ball. But the students know the truth of the matter. The “nerds” are usually all on the same team and are bludgeoned by popular jocks. I’m surprised they allow such a horrible sport.

Of course I have nothing to fear. I sprinted to my place in line between a tall red head and a buff jock. Both eyed me up before establishing that I would definitely be on there team. After picking a few more people the game started and by the end of it, two guys on the opposite team had broken glasses. And one by the name of Earl freaked out and started screaming at everyone and crying.

While walking to my next class I was surprised to find Finch waiting for me just outside of the gym.

“So how was your first class?” He asked.

I thought of Earl and what his father would probably say to him once he found out what happened. Would he understand?

Then I thought about after the game, when we were all in the locker room and the jocks were talking so fast and laughing about how “well” the game went.

“It was okay. Everyone was real nice to me.”

“Well, I guess they would like you.” He tried to make it sound like a joke but I heard the bitterness in his voice.

Then a final thought entered my head.

What side would Finch have been on?

I already knew the answer even before I asked myself. Those people in there would have never given a nice guy like Finch a chance.

‘Yeah, they were quite a bore though.” I added hastily. “I think we talked of more interesting things.”

“Really?” He asked wanting to believe me so much.

“Yeah,” I reassured him again. “Screw them.”

I am really lucky to have a friend like Finch. I guess things do happen for the best.

[b]