The Wimp, (Yours Truly)

Wednesday, November 17
Sat with: Clique #3, eighth grade boys,(currently dominating the conquered clique #2, which has disappeared since the experiment started).
Accompanied by: Brooklynn,(Thank goodness).
Conversation: None.
Weird looks: Exactly four.
Requests to leave: None.

Out of the entire lunch room, this was the place I dreaded sitting most. I might not blog about it, but ask Brooklynn, she'll tell you- I am tempted to crawl back into my hole every day. I can't help missing people that don't stare at me like I'm an Avatar while I eat lunch with them.

My cold feet were never more prominent than they were today,where I finally had to grit my teeth and sit on my old table. For fifteen minutes, I stared in the complete opposite direction of the usual occupants and spoke only to Brooklynn. "What are you supposed to blog about this one?" she asked me. "No idea," I told her, "But I'll have a hard time finding a heartfelt message in this one."

Finally, the boys left. Feeling very relieved, I scooted a little too boldly into the middle of the bench. That was before, of course, I saw the boys coming back from buying their sodas and ice cream. Naturally. I considered moving over to my far end again, but that was when I noticed my heartfelt message of the day (finally!): the boys looked a little nervous about reclaiming their territory- because I was sitting there. I decided the reason the lunch room is so "clique"ed isn't all discrimination- some of it has to do with fear. Do you remember being a kindergartner, scared out of your mind looking at tarantulas at the zoo? (In my case, they never seem to get less terrifying by the year.) They always tell you- "It's okay! Just remember, it's just as afraid of you as you are of it." The same is true most everywhere- even in the lunch room.