Strangely, even after a week of not seeing one another, no says 'How are you?'. No one asks if someone else had a good spring break. If you want to know, you ask 'what did you do'. There was hardly even a 'hello' before the tales of the week came cascading down like a bombarding hummingbird.
The 'popular' friend group clustered around the cafeteria tables in the corner exchanging the latest gossip. I stood a bit apart, my back against the wall, listening in.
My Status At Middle School
An Outsider on the Inside.
An Outsider on the Inside.
I don't really fit in. Not like a puzzle piece, or a secret ingredient. My style is a bit different. I'm a whitewater racer; a sport which no one understands, let alone remembers (you do crew, right? or oh, I went rafting once...). I enjoy theater, but I'm never in the school plays because I like working with adults in community theaters. I don't curse regularly. I sing to myself in the hallways. I know songs from musicals by heart, but I also have K'naan and Taylor Swift on my i-pod.
It isn't as if I don't have friends. Everyone in that corner of the cafeteria knows me, and I know them. We have had a few shared words. A compliment on one another's shoes or essay. There are those that I have discussed the world with. And middle school. There are those that I eat lunch with every day. But there's only a handful of friends who really get me.
They may think they know me. They only know part of me. This makes me sound like I'm a shy, soft-spoken spectator. Anyone will tell you that's not me. I'm actually quite talkative, and not at all afraid of speaking up. I just don't have much to say at school. I smile at jokes, and nod when someone tells me a story. I laugh, too. Perhaps it has to do with the time of the day, perhaps it has to do with the people I'm with, but I don't often get silly at school.
This is not to say I don't have friends. I have many people who I consider friends, and they consider me their friend, too. But I don't have a group of friends who gets together every other Friday for a sleepover, or spend weekends together at each other's summer lodges. But I'm all right with that. Just as long as they get some part of me and I have someone to eat lunch with, I should count myself as lucky.
I'm a puzzle piece for a different puzzle. But somehow, I fit.
It isn't as if I don't have friends. Everyone in that corner of the cafeteria knows me, and I know them. We have had a few shared words. A compliment on one another's shoes or essay. There are those that I have discussed the world with. And middle school. There are those that I eat lunch with every day. But there's only a handful of friends who really get me.
They may think they know me. They only know part of me. This makes me sound like I'm a shy, soft-spoken spectator. Anyone will tell you that's not me. I'm actually quite talkative, and not at all afraid of speaking up. I just don't have much to say at school. I smile at jokes, and nod when someone tells me a story. I laugh, too. Perhaps it has to do with the time of the day, perhaps it has to do with the people I'm with, but I don't often get silly at school.
This is not to say I don't have friends. I have many people who I consider friends, and they consider me their friend, too. But I don't have a group of friends who gets together every other Friday for a sleepover, or spend weekends together at each other's summer lodges. But I'm all right with that. Just as long as they get some part of me and I have someone to eat lunch with, I should count myself as lucky.
I'm a puzzle piece for a different puzzle. But somehow, I fit.
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