It was the first day of the new school year, and I hated it.  I hated the crisp erasers that actually worked, the new shoes that were making blisters on my heels, the girls with their high ponytails, the veneering smiles on the faces of the teachers as they lied about how happy they were to see me, and the backpack that was already making my arms ache.

I walked into my first class and dumped my backpack next to my desk, watching as it doubled over on itself, preparing to vomit its insides onto the floor. From behind her pristine desk, Ms. Wiler smiled and welcomed me to fifth grade, while I pretended not to hear.

The door opened and a student with bright red hair and freckles entered, greeted the teacher, and flopped into the desk next to me.

"Hi," he said absently, without raising his eyes from the book, Treasure Island, that he'd pulled out of his backpack.

I stared at him and then at the book - my favorite book.  "Hi." 

It was the first day of the new school year, and I was already anticipating a friend.  Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad after all.

© 2009 Hannah S. Original for CCF. Hannah S. grants CCF first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology.

* CCF does not publish students' last names on the work they submit for publication.