BRIIINNGGGG!!!! A stream of sixth graders stampeded through the door as the bell rang. The school yard was full of noise, people saying “heys” and other greetings. I watched sadly as everyone quickly dissolved into their own group of  friends.  To be honest, I’ve always been a little socially awkward, not that I’m proud of it. I haven’t really earned the best reputation ever either. I envied those people who could just walk up to group and they would be accepted. Me? When I try to make friends, I’m usually the one walking behind everyone else, or the one totally lost in conversations. I missed the times in kindergarten when you could just say, “Can I be your friend?” or, “Can I play with you?” Of course, things are different now that I’m in middle school.

As you probably know, social life is pretty important in middle school. Nobody wanted to be called a loner, or friendless. To make matters worse, my reputation is basically trashed. I hear people talking about me behind my back, not good things though. Rumors, teasing, about embarrassing things that never happened. I couldn’t help but feel a little bothered by it.
 

Snapping out of my thoughts, I continued to wander around the school, alone, looking for someone I knew. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I kept walking, not sensing a single welcoming group. Just like everyday, I still end up sitting in my usual spot, a little faded bench in the corner of the school. I took a minute to examine the splintering wood chips, running my fingers over the rough markings of the bench. It’s just like me. Broken, battered, far from perfect. For some reason, people can only focus on the ugly sides of it. I paused, thinking about how my life is almost like one of those middle school survival books. Not wanting to seem like the loner I was, I pulled out my book, the book I had been reading for a year now, and pretended to be absorbed in it.

“Hey! Whatcha readin’ there?”

A girl with a peppy voice snapped me out of my trance.  I looked up. A girl stood in front of me. She was wearing a bright yellow dress with bright yellow hair ties and shiny polished shoes.

“My name’s Sunny! I’m new here,” she said, holding her hand out.  Her face was plastered with a smile just as bright as her dress.

I paused, not knowing what to do or say. Noticing her outstretched hand, I quickly grabbed it and gave a small nod. I felt the blood rush to my face.

“I’m Emma.” I quickly looked back down at my book. After a moment, I glanced up,  surprised that she was still standing there with a curious and confused look on her face.

“Do ya’ wanna go to the lunch line with me?”
I thought for a moment. I felt like my insides were being churned around.

“Uhm, yeah, sure. I guess.” Embarrassed by my strange reply, I quickly looked down and made myself busy brushing the wood chips from my shorts. I closed my book and slowly stood up.

Sunny and I talked, walking around the schoolyard. With time, I began to feel more comfortable with her. I remember the goofy smile that took over my face, not being able to stop laughing or smiling. I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun. I completely forgot what we talked about, probably because time was going by so fast. I felt like a ten ton weight had been lifted off my chest. The butterflies in my stomach had gone away, replaced by a strange sense of satisfaction. I learned that Sunny’s a lot like me. She moved here from Canada, which meant she didn’t know anyone.

Being with Sunny also taught me a lesson that I still use today. I’ve learned that I should stop trying to change what people think of me. There are only so many people in the world that will see me for who I am, not just the girl who wears shorts, a T-shirt, and no makeup. I don’t care if I’m not popular, I don’t care if people don’t like me, and I don’t care if they think I’m not cool. All I care about is if they like me for who I am.