Part 1


First Grade

The jump from kindergarten to first grade was a scary one for you. You moved all the way to the other side of the school (which, in reality, was only the other side of the hallway, but to you, it felt like miles) and left half of your friends behind, including Lance, your best bud, who wouldn’t be in the same class as you.

You sniffled a little bit on your first day, refusing to get out of the car. Your mother smiled her knowing smile and patted you on the knee, kissing your head lightly as she took your hand and led you into the building. Your body instinctively led you to the left, but your mother tugged you to the right, towards the first grade classroom, which was completely different than your old kindergarten classroom.

There were no toys, or coloring crayons, or easels. The floor wasn’t carpeted, either, and there was a big blackboard at the front of the room. Five desks in each of five rows covered the floor, and you couldn’t believe they actually expected you to sit in one of them all day long.

Your mother tugged your hand again, and you had no choice but to follow sullenly, gripping your back pack tightly in the other hand. She stopped just outside the door and crouched in front of you.

“You’re my big boy now, Justin,” she smiled, hugging you tightly. You tried not to cry when she pushed you forward, your shoes squeaking on the shiny floor. “I’ll pick you up this afternoon. Have fun, honey. Mommy loves you.”

You hated her right now for making you do this. You missed the comfort of kindergarten, you missed your place in the circle on the floor, and you missed your teacher, Miss Jenny. When you looked around the room at all the new faces, you missed Lance, too.

“Well hello there,” came a friendly female voice, and you looked up into the smiling face of a woman you’d never seen before. “I’m Mrs. Milner, you new teacher,” she said, and you frowned, because “Milner” was the strangest first name you’d ever heard. Jenny was much more normal, you thought, wrinkling your nose. “And what’s your name?”

“Justin,” you mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Justin?”

You nodded, refusing to look up.

“Justin Timberlake,” she noted, checking your name off some sort of list. “Let me show you your desk, ok?”

You didn’t respond, just followed her to the front of the room. She stopped in front of the first desk in the third row and smiled down at you. “Here you go, Justin. Have a seat, and go ahead and put your things inside,” she said, lifting the top of the desk. “All your supplies can go in here.”

You peeked inside cautiously, then looked up at her and nodded, climbing up into the chair and unzipping your backpack. You pulled out your pencil box and set it in the corner of the desk, your notebooks next to it. Your mother had brought you a brand new box of crayons, “Just in case,” she’d winked, and you opened the top just to smell them before you put them on top of your notebooks. Just in case.

“Hi!” came a bright voice behind you. You jumped a little, turning around slowly. “I’m Britney!”

You tried to smile, but it came out more like a frown. “I’m Justin.”

“Are you ok?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m fine.” You decided you didn’t really feel like talking to Britney right now, so you turned around and folded your hands, placing them on your desk.

“Why don’t you want to talk to me?” she asked, tapping you on the shoulder.

“I just don’t.”

“Fine. Be a meanie,” she whined, and you were pretty sure she was probably sticking her tongue out at the back of your head.

“All right class,” said Mrs. Milner. “Settle down now, ok? Let’s get started.”

You sighed unhappily as you looked around the room, not recognizing single face. You wished Lance was here to sit beside you and tell you a funny joke. At least that way you wouldn’t feel like crying.

“I’m Mrs. Milner, your new teacher. To start off the day, we’re going to go around the room and tell everyone our name and our favorite color, ok?”

“Okay!” came the loud reply from the class.

“Let’s see…Justin, why don’t we start with you?”

Your head snapped up, and your heart started beating very fast. Why did she have to pick you first? This was so unfair. You decided that you were quitting school after this day. Who needed it anyway?

“I’m Justin and my favorite color is baby blue.”

Mrs. Milner smiled, and you blushed a bright red when the whole class started laughing.

“Ha ha!” yelled one boy. “Baby blue is a sissy color!”

“Nicholas, I don’t want to hear another word out of you!” Mrs. Milner scolded. “Baby blue is a perfectly nice color. Now hush, young man. No making fun of others.”

You sunk lower in your chair and squeezed your eyes shut, praying that you’d just disappear.

Britney tapped you on the shoulder, and you heard her whisper that she thought Nick was a big jerk.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that that didn’t make you feel any better.

***

“Ok class, it’s time for recess,” Mrs. Milner announced, and you looked up from your coloring to smile at her gratefully. You needed a break from this first grade thing, and even though Mrs. Milner seemed pretty nice, and you even got to color your own name tag for you desk, you wanted to get out of this desk and stretch your legs.

“Everyone follow me,” she said, and you lined up behind her in a single file line, making sure you were at the front. Britney somehow got right behind you, and you rolled your eyes when she tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, wanna play kickball with me?”

“Maybe.”

You’d rather eat sand, you thought, but since you didn’t have any other friends yet, you decided that maybe kickball wasn’t such a bad idea.

Twenty minutes later, holding a wet rag to your nose, you decided that you hated kickball and hated Britney, probably more than you hated the entire first grade.

Nick had kicked a ball right at your face, then laughed when it hit you—hard—and blood gushed from your nose.

“Aww, poor baby got hit in the face,” he teased, and you wondered how any six year old could possibly be so mean.

Britney had helped you to your feet, but you pulled away from her and ran into the building, cupping your nose in your hand and crying at the same time.

As you ran, you collided with someone taller than you and fell right on your rear end, and that just made you cry even harder.

“Hey, kid, are you all right?”

You looked up into the face of a boy that was probably two years older than you and shook your head. “I hate this place.”

“Aw, come on kid, it’s all right,” he said, grabbing your free hand and helping you up. “I remember when I was in first grade. I hated it too. But it’ll get better.”

“What grade are you in?”

“Third,” he grinned. “Two grades more than you.”

“Oh.”

“Want me to help you to the nurse?”

“Sure,” you said, nose still covered.

“It’s this way,” he said as he turned around and started walking. You had no choice but to follow, and when you arrived at the door, you stood next to him awkwardly.

“Um, thanks for helping me.”

“Hey, no problem. I’m Josh,” he said, smiling.

“I’m Justin,” you replied, smiling back.

“Cool, kid. I guess I’ll see you around. And keep your chin up—first grade isn’t that bad!”

He laughed as he skipped off down the hall, and something inside you told you that maybe you’d just made your first friend.



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