Wake up. Get dressed. Go to school. Come home. Sleep. Repeat. This is what my life is like down here in Charleston, South Carolina. I walked downstairs on Monday morning to find everyone in my family asleep. Looks like I am going to have to walk to school again. I grabbed a granola bar, grabbed my backpack, grabbed my shoes, and I was out the door in ten minutes.

After the fifteen-minute walk, I finally arrived at North Charleston High School. Random people always wave to me in the hallway because they think I’m the most popular guy in school. The truth is, they don’t know the half of it.

“Cody, wait up!” Kendall yelled from down the hallway. Kendall is my girlfriend and has been for the past six months. Everyone thinks we are perfect for each other, but I just do not see it.
“Hey, Kendall. How are you?”

“You know, I would be better if you would answer when I text you. What if it was an emergency?”
“My phone was dead and it clearly wasn’t an emergency. If it were, you would be freaking out.”
“Well, aren’t you a peach,” she deadpanned.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to class.” And with that, I walked away with my head down as I made my way to gym class. Kendall and I are always fighting because she initiates fights over the smallest things, including a text message.

When I got to gym class, I saw my friends, Mason and Tanner, and I went over and asked them how their weekend was.

“It was fine,” they replied nonchalantly. “Where were you, though? It was like y’all didn’t exist.”
“Sorry guys. I had to babysit my little brother because my parents were um… out.” The truth is, they were out. They were at some hotel for the weekend because they said that they needed a break from “us kids.” But I would never tell my friends that.

I looked around the gym to see people texting on their phones instead of talking in person. What has our generation come to? While I was looking around, I saw Jackson, this really quiet guy, sitting by himself. I have been going to school with him my whole life, and I have never seen him hanging around with anyone. I smiled and waved at him, and honestly, I have never seen someone cheer up so fast. I bet he would make a better friend than the ones I’ve got now.

Three periods later, I walked down to lunch with Kendall. We walked into the cafeteria, and a million people stopped and waved to us. She loves the attention. I, on the other hand, do not. She started to lead us to a table with the other football players and cheerleaders when I spotted Jackson sitting at a table by himself. I told her that I was going to sit with Jackson.

“Sure, pick some random loser over me. I see where I stand. You know what? Don’t talk to me.” With that, she walked away and went and sat with her friends. I went and sat with Jackson and when he looked up, he started to get up.

“Sorry, you can have this table. You deserve it more than I do,” Jackson said.

“No, I came to sit with you. You looked like you could use a friend, and trust me, so can I.” Jackson and I talked for the entire period. He told me all about his love for art and the summer he spent volunteering at an orphanage. Listening to him made me realize that there was more to life than being the star quarterback. It gave me hope that there are good people in this horrific town. He helped me see a part of the world that I never knew existed.

I walked home from school because my parents forgot to pick me up, yet again. I walked in the front door of my house to find my parents watching TV in their pajamas. My five-year-old brother was crying and trying to get their attention, but they did not care enough to look up from the screen.

I helped my brother and then went to start my homework. Before I started, I checked my phone. I turned it on to find 35 text messages, all from random people telling me that they need me to lead the team to victory in Friday’s game. As if I didn’t already have enough pressure, random people just keep piling it on.
I went online to see what homework I had. There was French, physics, algebra, and English. I started with English. We had to write a one-page response to this question: “Who are you really?” I wish I knew. I started to write who everyone thought I was: the star football player with the perfect girlfriend, supportive friends, and a caring family. As I wrote it, I realized that wasn’t who I truly was. I spent almost three hours working on that assignment before calling it a night.

The next morning, I grabbed a granola bar, grabbed my backpack, grabbed my shoes, and I was out the door in ten minutes. It seemed like this would be the daily routine from now on.

I walked into English class fourth period and Ms. Folly told us to take out our responses. She told us that everyone was going to share our stories with the class and started calling on my classmates. It seemed like everyone had the same story. They wrote about their amazing friends and their sports. When it came time for me to read mine, I suddenly got very nervous. My forehead was sweating and my hands were shaking.

“Everyone thinks they know the real me,” I started off. “But they don’t. Sure, I may be great at football, but that does not matter if I lack the necessities in life. I do not have supportive friends or a caring family. I do not have the best grades or a perfect girlfriend. I didn’t realize that the people in my life were making me into a person that I wasn’t proud of. I didn’t realize it until yesterday, when I met someone who taught me that there’s more to life than popularity.”

I looked over and smiled at Jackson, and he smiled right back.