The one thing about high school that is the same between all of them is uncomfortable seats. Having to wiggle throughout the entire class period to try and get comfortable for a few seconds is a challenge all students face. My high school was no different. We had the standard beige desks and blue gritty chairs that would make anyone rather sit on the ground. We only really noticed the discomfort when we thought of it, though. Our spines had become used to the feeling and now, in high school, we didn’t notice anything different about them. Except for the desk in front of me was filled with someone new.

She had long auburn hair, more brown than red, and she was wearing a black hoodie and jeans. I’d never seen her before, but I wasn’t sure if my terrible memory was kicking in or our humble little school had a new student. As any good stalker knows you don’t just stare at someone; you look around them and in the moments of chance you get a look at them. She seemed nervous even though I hadn’t gotten to get a look at her face but her grasping to the desk as a sort of comfort confirmed my thought that she was new.

“Good morning class,” Mr. Wake said as the bell rang and the last students rushed in and slammed the door closed.“Today we have a new student. Why don’t you come to the front and introduce yourself?” The girl got up and went to the front, and I finally got a look at that face. She had a very curved face with full cheeks and tired-looking eyes but it had something else on it. A face of utter discomfort and slight embarrassment for getting called to the front. Anyone that had been new anywhere knew that she was new to this school. 

“Hi, my name is Kathy.”

“Thank you, Kathy, for introducing yourself, you can take a seat now.” Mr. Wake said as he got to the front of the class and instantly began the lesson on “Democracy and the History of its use in Europe.” U.S. Government class while being boring just got a little bit more dangerous.

The class went on, and we had to do a homework assignment on what the lesson was over. The bell rang, and Kathy got up and so did I. We left the class, and I headed to English not knowing where the new mystery girl was going. English was the same; Math was the same, Kathy was in science so that class got a bit more interesting. PE and Speech were mostly the same except the speech teacher had heard of the new student and had us begin on writing an introduction speech as if we were new students.

The day was over and as I got on the bus I noticed that Kathy was sitting in my usual spot. Being the shy and quiet person, I am, I just sat in the spot to the left. Again using my “stalker stare” I looked over and saw that she was just on her phone. Her thumb was swiping up and down at regular intervals so I assumed she was on Instagram or snap chat. Maybe she was messaging old friends about how she hated being in a new school. I know that’s what I would be doing. The bus stopped at the usual stops and at last, we got to my neighborhood. I started to get up and arrange my stuff but so did Kathy. Did I have a new neighbor?

I headed to the exit more nervous than usual with my palms even getting sweaty but they were almost always sweaty. I got off the bus and started to walk home. The cloudy and damp atmosphere didn’t do much to help my sweaty palms, but I just shoved them in my hoodie pockets. Behind me, Kathy was walking to the right and heading down the street opposite my house. I turned around to look at her and saw that she was still staring at her phone. I needed to talk to her. Something inside me was confounded at how I felt, but I couldn’t control it. I closed my eyes and take a few breaths.

“Hey, I noticed that you were new and that we live in the same neighborhood,” I said in an almost too fast manner.

“Oh yeah, you’re the one that sits behind me in Government class right?” She responded in a surprisingly considerate manner. “Yeah, that's me.” I give a little embarrassed chuckle and think I’ve already screwed this up. 

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” she replied as she began to walk again. I stop talking and turn away. I can’t actually do that though. I need to talk to her and I muster every ounce of confidence in my unconfident mind.

“Wait. I was wondering that since you are new and I assume you haven’t had much time to explore the town if you wanted to hang out sometime and let me be a sort of guide.”

I feel as if I’ve already screwed this up and why would she want to hang out with someone like me. The ground is damp and cold, it's practically raining and she probably wants to relax. I should have waited until a sunnier, nicer day to ask her. She’s just going to think I’m some cree-

“Sure. I’ll let you “guide” me through the town. My parents are probably arguing over where to put the china so getting away from that would be nice anyway.” She says. She actually said yes. 

“Well ok. I have my driver's license, but I forgot that I left it in my moms' car last night but she should be home so we can take my car.” 

I tell Kathy to set her bag in the backseat and ask her if she’s hungry. “Our little town has some great spots to get a nice burger or even some Chinese.”

“Nah, I’m not really hungry,” she answers.“ but you know what I want right now. Ice cream.”She says, and I give a little chuckle.“What's so funny,” she asks comically. 

“It’s just that its cold and wet and that you want ice cream?” I answer her funny question then say “but ok. I’m here to guide not dictate if you want ice cream on a rainy day.”

Kathy does a little celebratory dance, and I laugh again. “Alright let's head out.”

The road is chock full of cars and our little conversation has quieted down. Seeing as how we’re going to be here for a while, I hand her the aux cord and say “What type of music do you like?” “Finally…” she says to me and quickly grabs the aux. “I was wanting to play some music but didn’t want to intrude on your car.” Kathy continues then she starts to play through some different punk rock bands. I recognize P!ATD, MCR, and a few others. 

“Ah, you’re an emo,” I joke. She proceeds to jokingly punch me in the arm. “Uh. Do I look like an emo? But ya know, they do make some good tunes.” 

The traffic hasn’t seemed to die down, but I’m adamant in my quest to procure ice cream. Me and Kathy are having a nice time regardless of just listening to music and even though my car is a piece of crap, Kathy has gotten comfortable. I look over trying to be inconspicuous, and I study her a bit more. She has green nails, and her phone has a P!ATD case. She must really like that band. I also notice that she’s not wearing her hood. Every Time I saw her in the halls and on the bus she was wearing it. I get that she wants a way to hide from a new world. A new school is more alien to some than a planet a million light-years away. Hopefully, I make her seem more comfortable and maybe even make a new friend.

My staring session is interrupted by the sound of a car honking at me. I instantly press on the gas out of instinct and rush forward. Finally, this traffic is letting up, and I can see our town's little ice cream spot ahead. 

“What’s your favorite flavor?” I ask trying to mask my nervousness at starting up a conversation. 

“I don’t have one but if I had to narrow it down, I would probably say rocky road,” Kathy said looking up from her phone. I give my favorite as I pull into the lot. “I like rocky road, but I would probably give my favorite to mint chocolate chip.” Kathy chuckles a little. I give her a little quizzical look like I’m asking what's so funny. She laughs again at my look. 

“It’s just that I’m questioning if you could handle the spice of the mint!” She practically exclaims as she ends her joke and can barely finish it. “Wow. I didn’t have to take you to get ice cream, but I guess this is how I’m treated for being nice.”I chuckle at my sarcasm, and she gives me a little punch again.“Hey! I appreciate the ice cream and thank you for “guiding” me.”

I give a little bow as a sort of “you’re welcome” and we get out of the car. About three people are sitting outside the little ice cream stand at a table. We walk up to the stand and order our ice cream. Both of them waffle cones. Mine mint chocolate chip and her’s rocky road. As it is drizzling a bit, we go back to the car to eat our cones. I don’t know about other people but an ice cream cone when its cold hits the spot just right. I might even say that this is the food I would want every time it’s cold. 

“I guess I got my mind changed over whether ice cream is appropriate for a cold day.”

“See! No one believes me but ice cream is amazing when it's cold.” 

“Well, I guess I can take you home now.”

“Sure. that would be great.”

So we got on our way home. The going home from school traffic had died down but in about twenty minutes going home from work traffic would start. Kathy started some music again, and we’re just living in the moment. 

Today was one of the best days of my life. I feel like every moment of unconfidence and cowardice has all be set aside thanks to today. I was finally the one to start the conversation, invite the person out, be the catalyst of the friendship. The old me, the coward me, is gone. I finally have confidence that I can be a good friend, a good person, even just an average, instead of a below-average, person.

We’re pulling up to the driveway, and Kathy starts to say “This was fun. We should hang out again sometime. Thanks and see you later.”I just wave bye silently. As I pull out of the driveway, I close my eyes and feel happy.

.

.

A drop of water drops on my nose and I’m jerked back into reality. I shake my head to regain my thoughts. I notice I’m still outside the bus, and Kathy is still walking away. Must have been a daydream. It makes sense. Why would she ever want to hang out with me regardless if I made my shot? Even if she did, it's not like I wouldn’t screw it up somehow. Anyways I don’t have and never will have the confidence to talk to her. Anything I said to myself in my head is just me being delusional;  just me being an arrogant creep that thinks they are special. 

I’m just like that one Pink Floyd song. I’m simply another brick in the mud-spackled wall. I know I seem like the cliched depressed teen that actually has worth. But the truth is, I don’t have worth. The only things I’m good at is screwing my life up. I may seem cynical but it’s true. There are just too many things wrong with me. 

I’m too short.

Too tall.

Too dumb.

Too Nerdy.

Too fat.

Too skinny.

Too shy.

Too much of a jerk.

I’m just too much… me.