The following Wednesday I was dismissed from the hospital. It was a sad farewell, not because of the other children, but because the nurses and doctors had been my lifeline for the past six months. I'll return in three months to hopefully rid myself of this brace. However, with all of the disappointments I have had, I'll believe it when I see it.
After driving all night, we finally arrived at our new home which was filled with relatives preparing a holiday dinner even in the wee hours of the night. It was the best homecoming anyone could have ever had, but I have to admit that most of my thoughts were now on school. I am dreading that first day so much...
...and for a good reason I soon discovered. It was a nightmare! As my mother was registering me, I keep peering out the door into the hallway to see if I recognized anyone. Not one person! The Dean of Girls was telling us that the school had approximately 2200 students and there were 650 in the sophomore class. I didn't care to know how many unfriendly kids were here. I just wanted to know how I was supposed to motivate three flights of stairs on crutches (which I was told to use for the next three months) because there was no elevator in this school. That's what I wanted to know!! She explained that my teachers would allow me to leave class 5 minutes prior to the bell and that someone would be carrying my books for me. (I don't think backpacks were even invented way back then.)
By the time she finished issuing me a locker, the first class had already begun. Here I go!...trailing behind the Dean of Girls who was carrying my books. She told me that the instructors were expecting me and that a classroom seat had already been assigned. Everyone was waiting for me. Oh Great!!!
Hour after hour, class after class nothing changed. I was seated alphabetically among the students, the girls stared and never attempted to talk to me, and the boys JUMPED at the chance to carry my books. I'm sure it wasn't because of me, but because they wanted to leave early. I have to admit, though, that they were at least friendly while walking with me to my next class.
Hadn't anyone taught these students that to stare...to glare...to intentionally avoid...to point...and to make faces at the new student in school was inappropriate behavior. Oh well! It reminded me so much of grade school, but these were high schoolers and they should have learned by now how to respect ALL of their classmates, not just a select few.
After the first week, I had found five former friends,--three from my junior high school and two from my confirmation class. I would be happy with five friends, but it would be nice to have a few more. I need to be more assertive; the worst they could do would be to "snub" me. It's not like that hadn't happened before.
As I recalled my classmates in each course, I mentally made a checklist of who I thought could be a good friend of mine, and that's when I came to the realization that I had developed what some would call a "6th Sense." I might have had it for years and just never gave it much thought. But I did now.
Whenever I found myself in a large group of people, whether students or adults, I somehow always knew which ones felt uncomfortable around me, which ones would more than likely turn and walk away if I approached them, and which ones would actually speak to me.
Yes, I had a sixth sense, and now I needed to use it to my advantage.
To be continued...
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