poem 15<\/p>\n
First day of freshman year.
\nMy heart slams in my chest and rattles my rib cage.
\nI hear my shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor.
\nI glance at my phone.
\nTen minutes until the bell rings.
\nMy best bet is to hide out for a few minutes before I go to class.
\nI make a beeline for the bathroom.
\nIt’s poorly lit and there are no paper towels
\nbut at least, for a moment,
\nI am alone.
\nI wash my hands,
\ndry my wet fingers on my new jeans,
\nand head to the classroom.
\nThe first to arrive,
\nbut my teacher greets me with a smile that makes me feel welcome.
\n“Sit anywhere, honey.”
\nI try to comply.
\nThe desks are arranged in groups of four,
\npushed together like tables.
\nPicking one seems a staggering task.
\nI sit down, praying to catch a glimpse of a familiar face soon.
\nMy prayers are answered.
\nMy eighth grade friend is the second person to walk through the doorway.
\nWe greet with relieved smiles.
\nWe are in this together.
\nA nervous blonde girl asks to join us at our table.
\nShe is friendly and makes a successful attempt at breaking the ice.
\nThe three of us have the same second hour.
\nA sigh of relief.
\nOur teacher hands out a syllabus and explains the rules,
\nand we spend the remainder of the hour talking.
\nConversation starts slowly, then flows.
\nWe are equally nervous,
\nbut somehow nerves feel better shared.
\nFor the first time all day, my smile is real.
\nThis is the first hour of my first day of my first year of high school.
\nBreathe.
\nIt gets better.<\/p>\n
-h.e.m.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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