"When he laughs at all my jokes, and he says I'm So American. Oh god, I'm gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in la la la la love."
- Olivia Rodrigo
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After the suicide of his boyfrie...
My foot bounces on the ground. I want to make a good first impression. It's not every day a redneck small town in Missouri gets a foreign student their senior year. I'm already sitting in the back of the classroom, and I can't find anything more interesting than my shoes.
The thing keeping me sorta relaxed right now is my sweatpants and sweater. That's the only thing I'm really looking forward to with the American public school system; I don't have to wear a uniform. I get to be as comfy as I want all day long and nobody looks at you weird for it.
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(The fit) The classroom fills with more and more students until I inevitably hear the scrapping sound of the chair next to me being pulled out.
Okay, Nick. You got this. Take a deep breath and introduce yourself.
"Hi," I say softly looking at her as she takes her seat. She looked around slightly, almost as if she was surprised I was talking to her in the first place.
Nevertheless, she smiled slightly and nodded her head in acknowledgment to me. "I'm Nick, Nick Nelson," I say, holding my hand out for her to shake.
I take in her appearance. She has tan skin, and long brown hair. She is much smaller than me, probably only a hair above five feet. She reminded me a little of him in that sense. Kinda fragile but in a good way. I think about the time Charlie and I went for a walk and then he cried about being tired until I gave him a piggyback ride the whole way home.
Stop it, Nick. Don't think about him. Not right now.
I notice the slight red blush on her cheeks and the tip of her nose.She accepts my handshake. I wait for her to introduce her name back to me, but she never does. Instead, she smiles slightly and looks down at her feet. Hmm, she must be shy, i thought.
"You don't talk much, do you?" I can't help but continue the conversation. What can I say, I'm the new kid, and I need to make friends with somebody who can help me survive my year here. Someone to show me the ropes and give me a place to sit at lunch, ya know?
Before she could answer my question the teacher walked in and started telling the students to quiet down so he could take roll. Typical.
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My next class is athletics, I'm not really sure what it entails but I assume it's some sort of gym, so I head towards the sports complex. By the time I find the locker room most of the boys are dressed in athletic shorts and tee shirts with the schools emblem on it.
I didn't really know I needed to bring a change of clothes, but on the bright side at least I wore athletic-ish clothes today.
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"Hey! You must be Nick! The coach said we were getting a new guy! Is it true that your British?" A tan-skinned eccentric guy my age, made his way toward me. He was tall and had broad shoulders. He also had a bit of a southern accent. He seemed friendly enough! In a way, he kinda reminds me of Finnick from The Hunger games, if that makes sense. I just get those vibes. It's one of the movies Tao forced me to watch before I moved here; to quote on quote "prepare me for the inevitable American violence I will encounter"
"Ah, yeah! I am British. A-and new here." I say scratching the back of my neck, feeling slightly awkward. But sending him a smile nonetheless. Wanting to appear as friendly and harmless as possible. The last thing I need is to get wrapped into any shit. I left Truman to get away from feelings like that.. people like that.
Like Harry and the other fuckwads who made him kill himself.
"That's so cool! We don't get a lot of new kids around here. Most of us have been going to school with each other our whole lives. My name is Aaron. Let me show you to your locker, luckily for you, it's right next to mine!" He says before turning away, and I follow him. Relaxing a little now that someone is willing to take the lead on a friendship, and show me around here.
"Coach said for you to get dressed in these and meet him out on the field. Did you play football at your old school?" He says handing me a pair of padded pants and an athletic tank top that matched the other boys.
"F-football?" I question while stuttering out my words. My eyes go wide, my anxiety showing. "I thought this was like gym class?"
Football? I don't know anything about football?!
"Haha no this isn't gym class, mate." He says the last word with a faux British accent. "This is football practice. Come on, you look fit. Are you telling me you've never played any sports before?"
"I played rugby at my old school back home" I state.
Talking about it usually reminds me of how much I hated sports by the end of everything. After how badly my so-called friends and teammates treated him... it was hard to enjoy it at all.
"Well, that's great news! Football is basically American rugby!" He says as we finish getting dressed, making our way out to the football.
"Isn't rugby also played in America? So wouldn't American rugby just be rugby?" I question.
"Haha, whatever you say mate." He says again. I want to roll my eyes but stop myself. I bet I'm gonna get that a lot here, so I might as well get used to it.
"Hey Aaron, would it be alright if I sat with you at lunch?" I say. Changing the subject as we reach the rest of the players in the middle of the field.
"Yeah of course; a lot of us football boys sit together, and of course the love of my life. My beautiful girlfriend Monica." He says pulling out his wallet from his back pocket, opening it to reveal a picture of a beautiful women I can assume to be Monica. I chuckle at his antics, but he just keeps going. "I'll show you where we sit. I think you'd fit in great." He says patting me on the back. Are all Americans this friendly with strangers? I want to laugh. Which is a great feeling considering what I usually feel.
Okay good. This is a hopeful start. Maybe, just maybe everything will turn out okay after all. I've already made it into a friend group and it's only my first day.
I honestly thought no one would talk to me. And would think I'm weird.
After everything that happened with Charlie. I started to feel 'weird' sometimes. I guess you could say it's normal after a traumatic experience, but still mum didn't think I behaved 'normally' after months passed and I still woke up screaming more nights then not. I was diagnosed with severe anxiety not long after he died and it's made it hard to feel anything close to 'normal' since then.
Mum thought coming here would make it not so crippling. And in some ways it has, I don't walk by his house every day now. I can't. I'm in a whole other country.
But I also wore his favorite sweater to school today. I thought it might bring me some good luck. Like he would be with me today somehow.
My therapist says I just need to be patient with myself. But it's almost been a year and I'm still taking things day by day
