I'm Going To Call It How I See It

Welcome to Cedar Oaks Middle School. You can tell most school's age by how well the hallways continue to be lit. The flourescent lights which once shone brightly are darker, the lightbulbs old and the routine cleaning of the plastic covers long forgotten. The once-shiny tile floors are browned by the glow and by about 15 years of Texas dirt dragged in from the football jocks and the D&D nerds alike whose shoes are covered in dirt no matter what you do.

I glanced up at the faded oak door that led to the main office. Breathing and and out once, I pushed the door open to a room floored with blue carpet, lit by the same poor quality light as the hallway, but a table lamp with a shade to match the carpeting. I stepped up to the front desk, closest of the three desks. I bit my lip. I'm not usually a shy or cauctious person.

"Hi, uhm, I'm Danny Wheatly. I'm new here? I'm not really sure where I should go..." I trailed off. The woman still hadn't looked up at me. "Hello?" I called out. Typing away, the impish woman still didn't answer me, but put her finger up the air as a "wait a minute" type gesture. I raised my eyebrows and waited.

"Honey, I can help you over here." I turned around. A beautiful caramel-skinned woman gave me a warm smile as she turned to her computer. "You said your name was Danny?"

"Yes ma'am," I replied.

"I'm sorry honey, I'm not getting a return for a 'Dani Wheatly'. You said you're new here? Where are you from?"

"Err.. I know this is odd, but try "D-a-n-n-y". I have the boy spelling of my name." I looked down at her desk apologetically. I don't know what I have to be sorry for, I'm proud of my name. She swivled back towards the screen and typed a few more things.

"Oh, okay, I found you. Your locker number will be 2378, I'm sure we can get you a lock for that soon. Your student ID number will be... 512569. Yes, okay, and here's your schedule. There will be someone by shortly to hand you your textbooks, and then you can go to your first class. Welcome to Cedar Oaks, honey."

She handed me a white piece of paper that sat on top of the other piles of paper on her desk. I glanced at it briefly, not taking any of it in. I didn't care. Six weeks in this hellhole and then I could be gone, on to high school, finally. And from there, I could just get through four years onto where I really want to be- college. That glorious Massachussets Institute of Technology where you pissed gold and the textbooks were made of candy.

I sat in a chair and watched the hustle of the office continue. Students came in complaining ("But I can't fail English, I'm on the track team!"), teachers shared gossip ("Oh that Ryan Suntray, wouldn't keep his mouth shut the whole class. I can't wait to pass him off next year to whoever is unlucky enough to have him.") but the main theme for all the covers

ation seemed to be summer. Summer, summer, summer. Six weeks away, thirty school days worth of time, but nonetheless, gave the whole office a happy vibe that made my head spin.

I stopped listening and started staring. I was next to the counselor's office, where "self-reflection mirrors" hung. All guidence-type offices have them. I gave myself a hard long look. My curly brown hair hung in waves, contrary to it's normal ponytail. I never wore my hair down. A new red shirt and pair of shorts that I had bought at Walmart two days previous fit me well, they were cute at any rate. I'm not used to wearing red. I don't know why, I'm just not. A tall man entered the room and called out my name.

After he asked me way too many questions about where I was from and what my hobbies were and what my school was like and what my dad did and why we moved and was I excited for summer and did I have siblings and from where in Ohio was I from and did I like the Cowboys and was I going to go to UT and on and on and on, he finally got me to the textbook room, handed me some books and shooed me onto first period. I was already 20 minutes late for my first day of class.

I entered the room. The teacher, a gentlefaced brunette, obviously very young, looked at me expectantly. She probably thought I was an office aide, here to give her a note.. I extended my hand to her, "Hi I'm Danny Wheatly. I'm a new student here."

She raised her eyebrows and inquired to my lateness. I explained about the last half hour of my life while the whole class listened. Eventually, the teacher offered me an empty seat at a table. A preppy latino girl sat across from a quiet, nerdy hispanic guy. Alice, flounced her hair and pulled back her shoulders to flex her chest (the equivelant of a guy flexing his arm to show superiority) and showed me that she was the cheerleader of this outfit and she was the best. I've outgrown middle school compeitions.

Alex looked at me and then raised his eyebrows, like he hadn't notice me come in the room. He gave me a quiet "hi" while the teacher continued with the lesson. She talked, kids asked questions. I already knew this stuff. We finally got to the part where she left us alone and we did the assignments. It was easy, but we worked together on it anyway. I tried to engage Alex in conversation and although he barely spoke, he was intriguing. Somewhere inside he was outgoing and strong, right now he was intimidated. I kept it on my plate of things to think about.

The bell finally rang and I packed up all my things and slung my bag over my shoulder. I had to figure out where portable 7B was. On the way out the door, a large light-skinned black guy ran into the room.

"JACOBBBBBBBBB!" I yelled and tackled him. He recoiled, and was extremely freaked out.

He looked at me for a second. The cogs were turning. I could see it.

"Danny?" His jaw dropped, "I.. never thought I'd see you again!"