Thankfully, we’re at school within the next few minutes.
“This is it,” Ari whispers. “Good luck.”
“Thanks. I need it.” I clench my teeth. “Same to you.”
I grab her hand for a second but then drop it because no normal person walks into middle school for the first time holding their best friend’s hand. But then again, I’m not normal. I’m not even sure I want to be normal, so I should probably stop trying so hard.
“Welcome, sixth graders,” a tall man with a mustache says as we walk through the double doors.
“I think he’s the principal,” I whisper to Ari. “But I’m not one hundred percent sure.”
Ari nudges her head toward me. “Are mustaches still a thing?” she talks through her teeth. “They kind of creep me out.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say as we walk.
The tiles in the hallway are a dull peach, almost beige, and the air smells like flowery air freshener. It’s so strong it makes my eyes sting.
“We’re meeting in the auditorium before first period.” Mustache Man moves his hands to the right like he’s an air traffic controller at the airport. “Keep walking. Keep walking.”
Ari and I look at each other as we walk and I’m pretty sure we’re thinking the same thing: Please please please do not let us get separated.
The hallway fills up with students like we’re vacuum-packed olives in a jar, and then the auditorium doors open, and we all spill in.
I stay close to Ari. So close our sides are touching. I cannot, cannot, cannot sit alone during this first assembly of sixth grade. This is like the agita I had over our fourth grade trip to the planetarium times a million. Ari was totally cool with sitting with whomever on the bus, and I was freaking out that I’d have no one to sit with and everyone would see that and think of me as the biggest loser in the grade.
Unfortunately, when Ari turns to go down a row, other kids get in between us, and then a group goes into that row from the other side. She gets the last seat there, and I raise my eyebrows and reach out my hand to try to grab her to get out and come with me, but the Mustache Man principal starts talking again, and she sits down. Without me.
The principal is on the stage, standing in front of a microphone, urging everyone to quiet down and take seats, and I’m still standing there, in the aisle, looking for a seat. He’s going to call me out and tell me to sit down, and everyone in this whole auditorium will stare at me.
That cannot happen.
I scan each row, and finally, I find a seat near the back.
I sit next to a girl with the silkiest black hair I’ve ever seen. My highlights could never compare to the beauty that is her natural hair.
“Hey,” I mumble, and sniffle back tears.
“Hey,” she mumbles back.
“I’m Kaylan,” I say. Maybe if I keep talking I’ll be able to hold myself back from crying.
“I’m June,” she replies. “I went to—”
She doesn’t get to finish what she was saying because the principal starts talking, for real this time, like he’s making a speech he prepared. He’s saying something about the importance of middle school and about how what we do matters. Our schoolwork matters. Our extracurricular activities matter. The way we treat our peers matters. I half pay attention and half zone out.
My mind flops all around from thoughts of Tyler, to wondering where Jason is, to this girl June. Potential friend? Maybe. She’s nice and she has shiny hair.
I go to take my phone out of the front pocket of my bag so I can text Ari, and we can make a plan about where to meet for lunch, in case we don’t see each other again.
“Put your phone away,” June hisses. “They are super-strict about phones! Teachers are watching.”
My stomach drops, and I shove it back in my bag. I’m already in trouble.
And then, before I even realize what’s happening, everyone starts getting up and shuffling out of the seats and into the aisles.
“What did he say?” I whisper to June, who then gives me a cross-eyed look like she’s disappointed and a little shocked I wasn’t paying attention.
“I heard most of it,” I defend, and then June tells me she has to go because she’s really nervous about finding her locker.
At least I’m not the only nervous one. That’s something.
But then I’m alone again.
I look at my watch. It’s not even eight thirty yet and I already wish the day was over.
SIXTEEN
AFTER MATH, ENGLISH, STUDY HALL, and art, it’s finally time for lunch. I haven’t had any classes with Ari, but we knew that, so it’s not shocking. I came prepared, knowing I’d be flying solo most of the day. And it’s been mostly okay. I’m surviving.
So I walk into the cafeteria, all calm and cool with my head held as high as possible. Ari and I didn’t get to make our meet-up plan since we lost each other after assembly, and I was too scared to try and text her, but I tell myself to stay calm.
I’m sure Ari will find her way to the cafeteria, and I’ll see her, and we’ll get seats together.
I pretend I’m an actress playing the part of a confident student, and it helps. Truthfully, I feel like a tiny ant that could be stepped on at any minute. But if I pretend I’ve got it all under control, the whole situation just feels better.
I scan the room for Ari. I search for her red highlights and her high ponytail and her paisley tote. Nothing. Just a giant sea of heads and green cafeteria trays. And it smells like disinfectant and tomato soup.
My stomach hurts.
I pretend to study the salad bar offerings. Being in such a visible spot will make it easier for Ari to find me. I’m sure my blond highlights look extra-amazing against the mustard-yellow cafeteria tile.
Should I stay here by the salad bar until she finds me? Or should I walk around and search for Ari? But then I risk looking like the loser who’s walking around alone. Red flashing sign on my forehead that says: THIS GIRL IS BY HERSELF. SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHERE TO SIT. SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANYONE TO EAT WITH.
I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep walking around alone. I’m like the sad middle school version of Where’s Waldo? but I don’t have that cute striped outfit. And I’m not sure anyone is even looking for me. Also, Where’s Kaylan? just doesn’t sound as good.
I look at my watch. I feel like I’ve been waiting three hundred years, but it’s only been ten minutes. Still, Ari’s late. Where is she? I need her. We need to decide where to sit together. Where we sit the first day determines where we sit the whole year. Everyone knows that. I can’t figure this out on my own.
I do one more quick glance around; she’s still not here. She’s on her way, I guess. Maybe she stayed after class to talk with a teacher or maybe she’s in the bathroom.
This is the worst day of the entire year to be late to lunch.
I take my bagged lunch of a turkey wrap, chips, a clementine, and a bottle of water, and I walk toward the back row of tables. I’ll save Ari a seat. I’ll guard it with my life, and I’ll stare at the door so I can see her as soon as she comes in.
“Oh hey, June,” I say, noticing an empty seat next to the girl from the auditorium.
She looks up from her sandwich, and I think I see relief on her face.
“Oh hey, um . . .” I can tell she’s forgotten my name but I don’t know if I should tell her or wait for her to remember or just ignore the whole thing. I wait for her to offer me the seat, but so far she just stares at me.
“It’s Kaylan,” I say, as I sit down. She nods and smiles.
As I’m unwrapping my sandwich, more girls come to the table. June seems to know most of them. But she doesn’t seem to be best friends with them or anything. Just saying-hi kind of friends, not meet-at-your-locker-first-thing-in-the-morning kind of friends.
They half smile at me, and I half smile at them. They’re talking about their schedules and how they already have homework. “Oh, Mr. Simms is the worst,” one girl says. “Eve
ryone knows that.”
“My friend Jules, who knows everyone in the world, told me some of her friends from Hebrew were gonna be in our grade,” another one says. “I forgot their names, though.”
Of course Jules has already come up. But at least it gives me something to talk about.
“Oh, you know Jules?” I ask. “I met her at the pool this summer.”
She looks at me, confused, even though she’s the one who just brought Jules up. Then she turns away and goes back to talking to the other girls. My stomach burns like I’ve just sipped acid instead of water.
I’m sitting here, not talking, but I don’t know what to say. I look around for Ari. I still don’t see her!
Maybe I should say my name and introduce myself. But it feels like too much. Like it would be too hard to get the words to bubble up out of my throat.
I’ll just sit here and eat and get lunch over with.
At least I’m not sitting alone.
At least I’m not walking around the cafeteria alone.
Between bites, I scan the cafeteria for Ari. Still no sign of her, and I’m getting worried. I wonder if I should leave and search the hallways. But we only have a half hour for lunch and I’m hungry and—okay I’ll be honest—I’m scared of losing my seat.
She probably found another place to sit. Free-spirited Ari, or I guess Arianna, doesn’t really worry about where she eats lunch. She just finds a spot and goes with it, and makes the best of wherever she is, the way she did after the first few days of her Hebrew School trip.
“We all went to Stratfield Elementary,” one of the girls explains, and I immediately relax, like, okay, people are actually talking to me now.
“Oh yeah, I know where that is,” I say, peeling the clementine on my lap. “My mom works over there. Did you guys get subs at Harvey Deli like every single day?” I ask them, trying as hard as I can to make conversation. I feel like I finally have something interesting to add.
“Um, yes,” one of the girls says. I think her name is Cami. “The Harvey Supreme is literally my favorite sandwich in the entire world!”
“Mine too!” I yell, and then cover my mouth because I’m so loud the table in front of us turns around.
“We have to go together one day!” Cami says, and I know we’re only discussing the fact that we have the same favorite sandwich, but it feels like a big deal. A big moment.
Maybe middle school won’t be so bad after all.
Cami and I keep talking about the sandwich—how the mozzarella cheese is a little bit melted, and how it’s weird that the cucumbers are on there, but how they really do add the perfect level of crunch. We’re deep in conversation when I feel Ari standing over me.
She’s out of breath, and she’s holding a brown lunch bag with grease seeping through the paper.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she says.
“I’ve been looking for you, too!” I say, because it’s the truth. I was looking for her for so long! It feels kind of like a lie, though, because I’ve already finished my sandwich and I’ve clearly been involved in a conversation for a while.
Ari scopes out the table and I do, too, and then I realize all the seats on the bench are taken. So I do what any best friend would do. I squish over.
“Sit,” I say.
Ari shakes her head a little like she doesn’t want to, and like sitting this close together is weird. Even though it was never weird before. We’ve shared chairs a million times.
“It’s ok.” I nudge over a little more, so she can see that there’s clearly room for her.
She sits down eventually. I have half a butt cheek off the bench and our thighs are touching. It’s hard for her to unwrap her sandwich because she can barely move her arms. We only have ten minutes of lunch left.
And Cami keeps talking. “I actually know the owner of the Harvey Deli,” she says, excited still, like she’s been waiting to start up the conversation again.
“Oh yeah?” I ask. I want to end this so I can ask Ari how her morning has been and if she’s seen Tyler and if I can come over after school so we can decide on the next item on our 11 Before 12 List. But I also want to keep talking to Cami because she’s nice, and it seems like she likes me, and we have the same favorite sandwich! I kind of feel like I was meant to be friends with her, like the universe wanted us to sit together and discover all the stuff we have in common.
“Yeah,” Cami says all matter-of-fact. “He lives across the street from me. So sometimes he brings over extra stuff. And he always caters our Super Bowl party, and yeah, he’s just great.”
“Cool.” I smile and turn just the slightest bit away from Cami, not in a mean way, but in a way that says I need to check in with my best friend. She makes a noise like she’s about to say something else, but then she stops. I feel a tiny pinchy feeling in my chest, like maybe I should have let her continue. But I guess it’s too late. And I do need to focus on Ari, too.
“How was your morning?” I whisper to Ari.
“Fine.” She bites into her sandwich.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing. Stop.” She talks through her teeth and doesn’t look at me.
I turn back to face the table. Cami’s still talking. Something about a vacation she took where they got stranded somewhere. I don’t know. She seems to talk a lot, like maybe she’s one of those know-it-all types. But everyone looks like they’re listening to her.
I start to wonder—is Cami one of those girls? The kind that everyone wants to be friends with? And I don’t even know it? I just had a conversation with her where we totally bonded and I didn’t even realize it was so important, so valuable.
I mean, having a friend like that, maybe even a few friends like that, would completely change middle school for me. Like it could actually be fun, and not just something to get through.
The first step of the Whole Me Makeover, in a way. Maybe new friends are the makeover. But I never thought I needed new friends before.
“Can you at least introduce me?” Ari says through her teeth. And I realize I’m a terrible best friend. I should have thought of that on my own. But Ari’s usually so friendly and easygoing. I guess I expected she’d introduce herself. This whole nervous Arianna person is confusing.
“Um, hey, I’m such a dimwit,” I laugh, and announce to the table. A few girls give me looks, but I continue. “This is my best friend, Ari, I mean, Arianna.” I giggle and feel completely stupid.
“Ari?” one of the girls asks. “My brother’s name is Ari.”
“Well, that’s why I’m going by Arianna now,” she defends. “Ari was just a nickname my dad gave me when I was born. I think he secretly wanted a son and so he just started saying it and . . .”
I zone out and hope Ari stops talking. I can’t believe I already messed up on the Ari/Arianna thing. What is wrong with me?
“So, anyway,” I jump in, to try and fix things. “Anyone have Mr. Paino for science next period?”
“I do,” Cami says. “Let’s walk together.” She hops up from the table and collects her trash. While she’s throwing it away, Ari and I exchange looks.
Mine says, We will meet outside the school doors at exactly 3:01 to discuss every single detail of this lunch and the entire day.
Ari’s says, I am so mad at you, and this is the worst lunch of my life.
I shrug it off, but I’m secretly happy. Cami seems fun. And she wants to walk to class with me. And we have the same favorite sandwich. No big deal.
“I have English now,” Ari says, mournfully.
“You can walk with us, too,” I suggest. “I think it’s in the same direction, or at least on the same floor.”
“Someone said something about meeting in the library for English, but I’m not sure.”
But when Cami comes back and I’m standing up, she links arms with me, and soon we’re off, walking out of the cafeteria and down the hall. I turn around a little, and I see Ari behind me and I know I’ve done something wr
ong.
I’m just not exactly sure what it is.
SEVENTEEN
THE THING ABOUT THE FIRST day of school is that you feel so great when you finish it. It’s this complete feeling of relief, like you survived. You made it. But then you realize that was just one day. You have so many more to go.
When you realize that, the amazing relief fades.
And then you actually feel terrible and overwhelmed.
Maximum-high levels of agita.
I walk through the door and up the stairs, ready to collapse on my bed. As I pass Ryan’s room, I stop ever so slightly. I hear beeping and crashing and the normal video game sounds, but no talking.
Once you realize you have a crush, you can’t get away from it and you can’t ignore it. It’s, like, always there at the front of your brain. A hole in your jeans that keeps getting bigger and bigger every time you wear them.
My mom has a late meeting so she’s not making dinner. I’m ordering pizza, want to come over? I text Ari, but she doesn’t respond.
I can’t wait forever—first days of school make a girl really hungry.
I try to tell myself that it’s not a big deal. She’s probably doing her homework and practicing piano. Maybe she’s talking to her mom—she always likes to hear every detail about the day. And then they’ll all have dinner—they’re big on the whole family eating together. And Gemma talks so much; I’m sure they’re still at the table listening to everything that happened on the first day of third grade.
I just feel extra-weird because Ari and I didn’t ride the bus home together today. Ari had a doctor’s appointment after school and her mom picked her up. I mean, who schedules a doctor’s appointment on the first day of school?
That just seems cruel, but I didn’t say anything.
After I finish my homework, I check my email, and then do some more eavesdropping. Ryan and Tyler never say anything.
I wonder if boys ever talk to each other at all, and I make a mental note to ask Jason about it once I’ve gotten to know him better.
My crush is in the next room and I’m not even getting any good information. And my best friend is around the corner and we’re not even rehashing our first day of middle school. Or working on our 11 Before 12 List.
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