Ode to Beginnings: Meeting My Best Friend

Pens click, chalk scrapes and voices murmur. Seventh grade holds a feeling I’ll never forget, no matter how much I’d like to. Anxiety that you can't place, and an itch you can't scratch, all while surrounded by strangers you’re sentenced to live with for six more years. 

Sitting in the corner with my short brown hair and oversized clothes, it was obvious to anyone that I was the new kid. Out of place. Holding my bright green hand-me-down iPhone with a crack in the screen that made it borderline unusable. This wasn’t unusual in this school. Ten kids to a classroom deep in the woods, 20 minutes from any other town. A new fishing rod was in higher status than the newest iPhone.

It was only a few months before that I had a strong support system filled with, what seemed like now, an overabundance of friends. My family was a nomadic type. Moving from hatchery to hatchery around the state to pay the bills. Switching schools never bothered me. 

I considered myself quite adaptable and easy to get along with. I was never the line leader because someone else always wanted it more than me. Instead I would hold the doors open for my classmates with a smile.

Observant as I was, it wasn't hard to notice a girl in my class hopping off the walls. Trains of thoughts switching tracks like mad and a tone of voice that showed no anxiety. Rectangular glasses, bright tye dye hoodie from American Eagle, and a gapped smile soon to be in wires. She was interesting, but I didn’t think much of it because class was starting.

“This week we’re doing an outdoor project,” Ms. Ellis, our homeroom teacher, announced. “You’ll be building tools from natural materials you can find.” 

Seems easy enough for a history assignment. Being a native to the outdoors gave me a surprising amount of confidence. Though this confidence translated to every other student, not just me. Especially those in Sportsmans Warehouse camouflage hats and mud coated Romeo boots. 

“Oh, and you’ll be working with partners.” Ms. Ellis added.

Fuck. 

Hastily, students moved around the classroom. “I call Keegan!” Jake yelled from two tables over. 

Sounds of papers shuffling and chairs squeaking across the polished floor filled the room. “I’ll take Colten,” Noah added. 

Students jumped over tables and carried stacks of plastic seats from across the room: this was absolute chaos. “Dibs on Jami!” Kaleea said.

My heart was beating out of my chest. Feeling frozen from anxiety I put my eyes to the floor and my hands to my temples. It’s embarrassing to have your teacher assign someone to you, but I had no choice. I barely knew anyone's name. 

Chaos beginning to subside, I lifted my head expecting to see my teacher approaching me. To my surprise, the girl who was bouncing off the walls previously began to pull out the seat next to me and was getting settled. 

“We’re going to be partners,” she said matter of factly. As much as I wanted to run to the bathroom and hide and later beg my teacher to do the project solo, I instead nodded my head and began to plan our project together.

I never would have guessed that eight years later we would be the best of friends. The kind that wakes you up from a depression nap at 4 p.m. to drag you out of the house and put a smile on your face. The kind that knows everything about you because they were with you along the way. The kind that you know will stick it out with you even through your lowest moments.

It was difficult and nerve-wracking to let someone new into my life at 13 years old. Being strong that day is easily the hardest and most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. 

Thanks Gracie, for taking the first step when I couldn’t.