Walter Neskin is terrified to begin the school year at Emerson Middle. He is quiet, awkward, and, despite his mother’s efforts to give their family a fresh start in a new town, doesn’t know how he’ll manage anything without his older brother and lifelong roommate, Daniel, in the house. All Walter has to go by are the letters.
Daniel’s letters to Walter provide wisdom and advice to help him through the stresses of middle school. But even his brother’s heartfelt guidance can’t eliminate the sweaty palms that follow Walter wherever he goes. His heart still races whenever Mei comes around, he has piercing anxiety in seeing his mom dating—his former writing teacher, Mr. Seavers, no less—and he feels deeply angry at a bully, Ryan, who seems intent on making Walter’s life miserable.
Walter is soon joined on his quest for seventh grade survival by two friends. Matt is deaf, witty, fiercely loyal, and the only person who may be more irritated with Ryan’s bullying than Walter.
Eddie is a husky germaphobe whose sense of humor and propensity to hide out during PE provide Walter a much-needed distraction from the stresses at Emerson.
With the help of Matt and Eddie, Walter attempts to navigate everything from school dances and girls, to confronting hate and learning to face tragedy head on. He fights to learn what he must stand for. Because, despite his best efforts to fly under the radar, no one, not even the new kid, can escape the countless pressures and infinite drama of middle school.
-Back Cover Summary
*Note, I wrote this middle grade novel for my children. First 23 pages are below. (book ties up at 228 pages, I'm unable to paste and format that much on here. One day I'll publish it so they can have a hard copy...)
*******
Dear Wally,
I know middle school can be the worst. Truth is, it’s not easy for anyone, no matter what they tell you. Just look at each new school year like a fresh start. A brand-new beginning. Life needs new beginnings.
You can be whoever you want to be. Just be you, ok? Just be Wally.
I’ll write some letters to you if it helps. Big brothers are still big brothers, even when they are away from home.
Love,
Daniel
Brothers
Walter anxiously stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing a green flannel shirt and hand-me-down jeans from Daniel which were still in fairly good shape. He looked at his dark, curly brown hair in the mirror. It wasn't quite all the way dry from his shower, leaving it was a little moppy.
Walter liked it moppy.
A small white patch of hair rested on the front left side of his forehead, standing out amidst the wavy brown. This patch had been there since Walter could remember. It was perfectly white. Walter always expected that if the rest of his hair was the color of his patch he could easily pass as a grandpa. His mom said it meant he was "born awesome.”
Daniel, too, often told Walter how cool his hair was. Before Daniel left, he and Walter shared one of the two bedrooms in their family’s cramped apartment in Clifton, Colorado. Their mom took the other room, and they turned a small office space into a room for their younger sister, Leah. Daniel frequently complimented Walter in the mornings as the two of them got ready for the day.
"Wally, you've got the hair of a movie star," he would say as he carefully placed gel into his own hair.
It was hair that was a lighter shade of brown than Walter's and that, without hair gel, stuck straight up as if he had held a fork in an electrical outlet.
"Wally, you don't even need gel for hair like yours. It’s unreal. Plus, you have that sweet lightning strike spot! And here I am, an honorary member of the poof club!"
Walter laughed every time Daniel talked about his own hair. He had a knack for cheering Walter up by making jokes about himself and complimenting his younger brother simultaneously.
"No, I'm CAPTAIN of the poof club!" Daniel joked, as Walter laughed out loud. Satisfied whenever he made his younger brother crack up, Daniel would smile slyly at Walter in the mirror.
As Walter looked around his room for matching socks, he worried about what life in a new town and new school would be like. He wished Daniel were there to calm him down or distract him from his mounting worries.
There were almost six years between Walter and his brother. Daniel was tall and broad-shouldered. He was strong. He had about fifty pounds and nearly five inches on his younger brother. It wasn't even that Walter was super small; in fact, he was pretty average for his age. Daniel was just big. Walter felt he'd somehow always be smaller than his brother.
And that was ok. He looked up to Daniel as the man of the house ever since their father left. This happened not long after Leah was born and Walter was just five years old. It was hard for Walter, particularly right after his father departed. This caused Walter to grow up looking at Daniel the way many boys look up to their fathers.
Daniel knew his younger brother looked up to him, but he had the unique ability to make Walter feel he was the one to be admired.
Daniel often told him, "I may be bigger on the outside but you've got me beat in here!" as he patted Walter's chest with his strong hands.
Despite their physical differences and age gap, Daniel rarely treated him like the annoying little brother Walter was sure he was.
"You're a wise old soul," Daniel would often tell Walter.
Walter didn't feel wise, but Daniel frequently said it. Walter figured that his being an "old soul" was why he and Daniel shared letters instead of text messages or emails or anything else. Or it could have been that Daniel was a gifted writer. Or it could simply have been because, for the last couple of years, Walter’s phone was an older flip phone and a pain to operate. Even after his mom gave him her old smartphone, Walter didn’t use it all that much.
For Walter, Daniel’s letters were the encouragement he needed since Daniel left. Daniel was always looking out for Walter, and Walter knew he could count on Daniel. His letters were the next best thing to having Daniel around.
Their relationship wasn’t perfect. They still fought like only siblings can fight—fights that were usually over unimportant things.
Once, when Walter was eight years old and Daniel was fourteen, the boys quarreled over who would finish their mom’s dessert after they had both eaten their own. It was simply a half-eaten bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup over the top. Daniel argued it was his “birthright” as the oldest, while Walter insisted he needed to eat more in order to grow. The arguing escalated.
“Fine, it’s melting anyway! Enjoy!” Daniel yelled angrily, pushing the bowl at Walter.
The bowl slid off the table and onto Walter, spilling all over his shirt and lap. Walter took his shirt off and threw it at Daniel.
“No, you have it!” He hollered back.
The ice cream-soaked shirt hit Daniel square in the face, covering him in a white and brown mess. As Daniel rushed over to wrestle his brother to the floor, they heard their mom.
“Boys! Boys! Boys!” Their mom yelled loudly, stopping the match before it got started.
Walter was relieved because he knew how one-sided these battles turned out.
They looked to their mom to see that she was holding a fresh gallon of vanilla ice and chocolate syrup in her hands, shaking her head at them and the absurdity at how fast things escalated over something so silly. Even the boys had to laugh.
Walter often thought about stories like this when he was missing Daniel. There were plenty of kids who had older brothers who left home for college, military, work, or simply to "become a man," as Daniel often called it before he left. It was part of growing up. Walter felt things were different for him and Daniel. He was sure he looked up to Daniel more than any other younger brother could have.
Daniel let Walter tag along with friends, girlfriends, running errands, or simply hanging out and doing nothing. He helped Walter with confidence and often reminded him not to "sweat the small stuff" and to be happy with who he was.
Walter had a tendency to worry, while Daniel was much better at seeing the “big picture.”
Walter felt that Daniel made any situation more fun, never taking himself too seriously. He even made Walter's name less boring, calling him "Wally" since he was born. He was still the only person in the world Walter allowed to call him that.
Let it Begin
Walter finished getting ready and opened his bedroom door to see his younger sister Leah happily sprinting from her room to the kitchen, cheetah-print backpack in hand. She was dripping with excitement.
"Mom, how do I look?" She twirled around in her favorite pink and yellow outfit from the year before. She was beaming, as was often the case.
The family hadn't had enough money for new school clothes this year, but Leah always took good care of her things. She reminded Walter several times over the last three weeks that she wasn't going to even touch her pink skirt or bright yellow t-shirt until the first day of school because then it would "feel new."
"You look beautiful, sweetie," Mom said as she smiled brightly at Leah, "I'm proud of you for keeping your clothes so nice for school."
Walter was impressed, too. Not many second graders could have been as patient as Leah had been. She often surprised him. Leah was like a tiny, auburn-haired ball of energy. She bounced around everywhere with an enthusiasm and curiosity for life that Walter admired. Her drawers were full of bright clothes that matched her personality. She bubbled over with little girl energy. Leah was chatty. She rarely stopped talking and her comments often made her sound years older than she was. Sure, it was annoying at times, but Walter never let it bother him all that much. He felt she had the second best sense of humor in the family.
"Nice skirt, Leah Bia," Walter told her as he poured a bowl of cereal for himself.
Leah smiled at him, almost surprised to hear his morning compliment. Plus, she liked it when he called her Leah Bia. She knew Walter was usually quiet in the mornings and that he was not excited about attending a new middle school in their new town.
"And you look handsome, Walter Lee Neskin," Mom said smiling. She hugged him with one arm and slid a plate of eggs and a slice of toast next to his cereal bowl.
"You need a good breakfast today, sweetie," she said, "Emerson is a great middle school, and they are lucky to have you!"
She kissed his forehead.
Walter knew she meant it. Despite the difficulties she faced, she always seemed to focus on the positive. Still, Walter felt sure that she had no idea how rough middle school could be. Especially as the new kid. Emerson was the only middle school in Rock Springs and had nearly three times as many students as the middle school in Clifton. His old school was smaller, people had less money, and everyone knew everybody else in town. His first year of middle school in Clifton was hard—and that was even with having Daniel to share a room with and get advice from. He was terrified at the thought of doing a year of middle school without his brother around. Middle school kids were moody and mean in Clifton.
What would happen in a place with three times as many moody pre-teens and teenagers? Walter wondered.
"You already know where your locker and classes are, and we are close enough for you to walk Leah to her school on your way to Emerson," she explained as she hurriedly put all the dishes but Walter's in the sink.
Their house wasn’t exactly close to his school. Walter discovered that it took about twelve minutes to walk to school, maybe fifteen with Leah being dropped off. They were just one block out of the bus zone. Walter didn’t mind walking, though.
"Which reminds me, I have to run to work," his mom said, “Wish me luck! Today is first day in the neonatal unit which means I get to see lots of babies!” She added, excitedly. Walter’s mom was a nurse, and it was her third week working at the hospital. She accepted the job in Rock Springs during the spring. The hospital agreed to an August start date, which let them finish the school year in Clifton and move during the summer. The whole family agreed a fresh start was needed.
"Let's take your picture before I leave!" she said as she picked up her keys off the counter.
Every year, Walter’s mom would take first day of school pictures standing in front of the door to their apartment back in Clifton. This would be the first picture at their new home. Mom still had the pictures from when Daniel started kindergarten, followed by multiple years of Daniel and Walter together—usually making the craziest faces they could think of. When Leah started kindergarten, she pleaded with the boys to take at least one smiling picture. Though after their smiles, even Leah wanted to be a part of the silly pictures.
“I want your best smiling faces so I can show you off at work!” Mom told them both, though she stared straight at Walter, “even if you happen to be a terrified seventh grader,” she said, smiling as she turned the doorknob to leave, “Let’s take it out here on the porch!”
Walter forced a smile toward his mom as she walked out the door. He didn't want her to worry, even though he felt worried himself. He took a couple of bites of eggs before scraping the food in the trash and sliding the dishes into the sink.
"Come on, Walter, I am sooo excited for my first day. You should see how beautiful Mrs. Jenkins is!" Leah said, “She could seriously be a mermaid.”
Each year Leah judged her teacher's kindness and abilities based on how pretty she thought they were. The way Leah had been talking, Mrs. Jenkins was likely to be her best teacher yet.
As the kids came outside, his mom positioned Walter and Leah on the top step in front of their small new home. The door behind them was a soft turquoise color that his mom painted the second day in their new place. The home was a modest, older, single-story, red brick home with three bedrooms. It was technically two bedrooms with an office they turned into a third bedroom for Leah. Walter had offered to stay in the office room, but Leah was thrilled about her room as it had a built-in desk off the wall for her artwork. Leah loved all art—especially painting. The home was slightly bigger than their old apartment in Clifton, and for the first time in Walter’s life they had their own yard.
As their mother adjusted Leah’s clothes for the picture, Walter noticed a few elementary school kids riding to school on their bikes. They looked to Walter to be fourth or fifth graders. They slowed down to study the new family in town as they passed. Right on cue, Walter’s mom licked her thumb and pressed it against his cheek to clean off some of breakfast’s remains. Walter quickly shot his arm up to his face to wipe it himself.
“Mom!” He whispered firmly, as he wiped his face on his sleeve. He thought he heard the kids laugh as they rode off.
“Oh, that’s right, you’re much too old for me to do that, Walter. I’ll try and remember,” she chuckled and sighed as she smiled at Walter
When his mom smiled, Walter felt that it carried a little extra weight. Mom had been through more than her fair share of difficulty. Walter first began to see it after his dad left. Being a single mom of three was surely not easy. And just when they were finally hitting their stride, their final year in Clifton brought even more adversity. Because her life was one of hard work and countless trials, his mother’s smiles always made Walter feel better.
She gently brushed the tuft of white hair off his forehead. Walter allowed it because he knew how much his mom loved fiddling with his hair.
“I hope you have the best day, Walter. You deserve it, sweetie.”
Walter’s mom knew that moving from Clifton without Daniel had been especially hard on him. They were supposed to make the move all together, and when that didn’t happen, his mother worried about Walter the most. They were a tight knit family and their new environment and life’s changes were daunting.
Leah interrupted, “Mom, let’s get this show on the road, Mrs. Jenkins is probably looking everywhere for me!”
Mom laughed and took a few steps back, motioning with one arm for them to scooch closer and holding her phone for the picture with the other.
“Say, ‘first day of school!’”
“First day of schooooool!” Leah shouted, while Walter faintly mouthed the words.
Mom showed them both the photo and started to tear up, just as she did every year.
They then took a silly picture at Leah’s request. Walter pulled his ears out, and Leah stuck her tongue out to the side while crossing her eyes.
“Yikes!” Mom laughed. She studied the pictures on her phone, zooming in on the smiling photo.
“My babies! You’re growing much too fast.” Mom sighed as she showed them both the photo.
“Mom, I’m practically seven. I am the furthest thing from a baby! I’m honestly surprised they aren’t moving me up to third or fourth grade already,” Leah told her confidently as she studied the picture.
“We are just missing Daniel!” Leah said, “He would have made these pictures even sillier for sure!”
Walter’s mom sighed as she stared at the photo, “Yes, we are missing him, aren’t we?”
Walter knew Leah was right. Daniel would have made it sillier and this was the first time a picture was taken for the first day of school where Daniel wasn’t in it, and they all missed him terribly. They missed him when they were leaving Clifton. They missed him when they arrived in Rock Springs. And now they missed him even more as they readied themselves for a new school year. Walter decided he would put a copy of his mom’s pictures in the next letter he would write to his brother. Daniel loved pictures.
“Be brave and have fun, you two! This will be your best year yet!” Mom told them as she pulled away to drive to work.
Walter and Leah began the walk to school. The conversation was one sided. Leah could carry a conversation with a lamppost. As she yammered away, Walter found himself fading in and out of listening as his worries began to mount about his new school.
What will the kids be like at Emerson? Can I fly under the radar? Will seventh Grade be better than sixth? Can I disappear entirely?
The sound of elementary school kids screaming interrupted his thoughts. Kids were running in every direction. Neat trees stood in front of the entrance and teachers were positioned every twenty feet or so, greeting children as they arrived.
“There she is!” Leah shouted, “Bye, Walter!”
She ran ahead and Walter watched as she sprinted to the prettiest of all the teachers standing outside. He could see her busily telling Mrs. Jenkins about something and watched as she pointed back at Walter. Mrs. Jenkins waved right along with Leah. Walter gave a half-hearted wave back and continued his walk.
At least Leah was excited about a new school.
****
It was a straight, eight-minute walk from the elementary school to Emerson. Walter kicked a small rock as he made his way to what he was sure would be a prison. He thought of Daniel’s advice and his mom’s encouragement. He wanted badly to feel less worried.
Maybe I really am overthinking this, he thought to himself, kicking the rock ahead.
As he approached Emerson, the scene outside was different from the elementary school. The students were talking and some yelling just the same, but the whole energy was different. Walter saw multiple groups of kids talking with each other, a few loners walking or standing alone, and several teachers and administrators scattered among all of them, looking on.
Walter stopped before crossing the street to the school’s campus. He took a deep breath.
Just be me, he whispered to himself.
The first bell rang loudly as Walter entered the main building. This warned the students they had five minutes to get to class. The second bell would mean they had to be in homeroom. Walter found his way to the locker he and his mom had visited a few weeks earlier when she registered him for his classes. It was at the end of one of the largest hallways in the school. All the seventh graders were in this hallway, with a few poor sixth graders at the end. Walter’s locker was about two-thirds of the way down the hallway. Lockers were clumped together in groups of ten, each group with its own color. Walter’s was the second to last locker in a group of mustard yellow lockers.
He had worked to memorize his locker combination, but with all his worrying about middle school, he hadn’t yet committed it to memory. He looked in his backpack and found it typed on his registration paperwork.
11 – 21 – 01
On the third attempt, he finally got it to open. The locker was empty save a few textbooks he picked up at orientation that all seventh grade students were required to have for their main courses. Walter lifted his bag off his shoulder to look through it to find what he would need. As he began unloading his new notebooks and binders into his locker, he heard someone talking loudly in his direction a few lockers down.
“Pretty sweet—I got a new laptop this year. Last year’s computer was hammered!” A blonde-haired boy with a faded haircut told two other boys standing with him. He was about Walter’s height, but with broader shoulders and a stronger jaw.
“I’ve still got the same one from last year, but at least it’s a Mac!” One of the boys shot back.
Walter, who was listening and trying to hide his head behind the door of his locker to this point, could feel someone looking his way.
“A year-old Mac is better than notebooks from the dollar store! Who still uses notebooks and binders?” the blond-haired student asked, pretending to be in disbelief.
The others with him responded in unison with laughter they clearly intended for Walter to hear.
Walter could feel his face turning red as he hurriedly shoved the notebooks into his locker and slammed it shut. He tried to walk away without appearing to have heard anything, their laughter fading as he walked toward his homeroom class. He noticed students were beginning to pick up their paces in every direction as they worked to beat the bell.
Let it begin, Walter muttered to himself, shaking his head as he made his way to his homeroom class.
School hadn’t even started and he was already worried this may end up being the longest year of his life.
_________________________
Dear Wally,
Do you remember our neighbor Mr. Canton? Remember how scared all the kids in the neighborhood were of him? It was probably because we all saw him working in his yard all the time with that serious look on his face, but no one really knew him. He rarely spoke and we never saw him smile. I can remember when he asked Mom if I could help him mow his yard. He was getting older and his mower was getting too difficult to push. He offered to pay $5/week if “it was done properly.” I was terrified. My first day, all he did was show me how to start the mower, where to add gas, and where he wanted his clippings dumped. He said nothing.
Imagine my horror when, halfway through my second time mowing his yard, I was refilling the gas can and the lid came off the gas canister and it spilled all over his immaculate flowerbed and part of his front lawn. In that instant I wanted to vanish into thin air. I panicked, put the remaining gas in the mower, put the can away, and finished mowing and ran home as quickly as I could. I hardly slept that night. I knew the gas would kill his grass and flowers. I knew I should have told him. I was terrified.
The next day, I told Mr. Canton what happened. I’m embarrassed to say it because I was fourteen years old at this point—I started to cry. I told I was sorry. I told him I could mow his yard free for a year. Or if he didn’t want me around anymore, I said I understood as well.
He looked at me carefully and then to his yard, and back to me. He didn’t speak for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he said, “Son, some things matter, and some things don’t. I know you’re upset, and I appreciate you being honest with me. In the grand scheme of things, Daniel, this doesn’t matter.” He said he’d still like to pay me for my weekly help. I could hardly believe it. I’ll never forget how much what he said meant to me.
You’ve heard me tell you not to sweat the small stuff. That’s because what he said was true: some things matter, and some things don’t. Save your worries for what matters.
Love,
Daniel
Turquoise
As Walter approached his homeroom, he saw his teacher greeting students as they entered the classroom. He had met Miss Zaveri the night he came with his mom for orientation. She was Hindi and spoke with an English accent. She told everyone at orientation that she was raised in England and moved to the United States after college for even more college. She was short, with thick black hair up in a bun on her head and she wore maroon-framed glasses. She was pretty enough that Leah would have thought her to be a fantastic teacher. He was surprised to hear her calling everyone by name when they entered the class.
“Glad you made it, Hector….” She turned toward Walter, “Hello Walter, good to see you this morning!” She said, smiling widely with what Walter noticed were exceptionally straight, white teeth.
Walter remembered thinking at orientation that there was no way someone could get teeth like that without braces.
“Thank you Miss Zav…” Walter felt his face start to warm as he was unsure how to pronounce her name.
“Miss Zaveri.” She interrupted, smiling, “But Miss ‘Z’ works just as well! Find any seat you’d like.”
“Thanks,” Walter said, relieved she didn’t wait for him to remember her name on his own. As he made his way toward the far side of the classroom to a middle desk in the last row. He heard Miss Z greeting more students behind him.
Miss Zaveri, his homeroom teacher, also taught science, which Walter had struggled with in sixth grade back in Clifton. He enjoyed the subject, but it did not come easy to him. Most of his classes were this way. The two exceptions last year had been history and writing. Walter liked history. He always felt that it came easily because he could often envision himself living at the different times and places in history as they studied. He always felt living long ago would have been much simpler than the present.
Writing was a little different. He had not always liked writing, but last year his favorite teacher at Clifton middle school was his writing teacher, Mr. Seavers, a passionate teacher with infectious energy. His lessons were more like conversations. Walter dreaded homework in any form before Mr. Seavers’ class, but after a month of school in Clifton, Walter found that writing was the exception. He looked forward to writing and felt he found his voice that way. He felt that Mr. Seavers understood him, and the teacher frequently complimented Walter on his writing. Mr. Seavers once told him, “At first you wrote because you had to, Walter. Now you write because you finally discovered that you were born to.” It was a compliment Walter treasured. Mr. Seavers took a sincere interest in him and the other students. Walter always found it was easy to sense genuine people who truly cared about others. He never doubted that Mr. Seavers was such a person.
Most of the desks were full when Walter sat down. The bell rang and the last few students trickled in and were greeted by Miss Zaveri before they found their seats.
“Good morning, seventh graders!” Miss Zaveri started warmly in her thick English accent, “I am so happy you are here. I am Miss Zaveri, but feel free to call me Miss ‘Z’ if it’s easier to remember.
“I want homeroom to be a comfortable place for all of you this year. As you know, we have fifteen minutes together for school announcements and anything else we feel is needed, and then I change my hat from home room teacher to science teacher,” Miss Zaveri said excitedly as she pointed toward a white lab coat that hung near her desk.
“Some days we will remain in here for lecture and studies,” she continued, “but most days after announcements we will make our way straight to the laboratory, which is where most of our time will be spent this year,” she said, pointing out the door across the hallway to the science lab.
“Seeing as we have a few minutes before the announcements, let’s go around and introduce ourselves. Tell me your name and one word that you feel best describes your summer break. Be creative! I’ll start: I’m Miss Z, and my word is ‘rejuvenating.’”
She motioned to the near side of the classroom, opposite Walter, for the first row to begin introducing themselves. Two bubbly girls in the front were the first to go. They were clearly friends, both used the word “fun” to describe their summer as they each giggled at the matching answer.
Miss Z smiled at them. “Fun sounds like a great summer to me. Let’s make this interesting: I want each of you to use a word that hasn’t been used yet. I know this isn’t English class, but you are each unique in your DNA—something we will cover soon in class—so let’s try and be unique in the word you use for your summer! I’ll let the “fun” twins slide since I just made the rule.”
The next student used the word “short,” which got a few laughs. On it went, one by one. Most students in the first rows used up the easy words like “chill,” “cool,” and “awesome.” As the activity snaked toward Walter, he listened with one ear as he racked his brain for a word to use that was unique enough to not be used by someone else but that wouldn’t draw too much attention to him.
He wasn’t sure what to say. At first he thought “melancholy” would work, but as he listened to the other students’ answers he was pretty sure that would draw some stares. The next few words that came to mind had the same problem of being too fancy for Walter’s comfort level, and he decided against each of them. He wondered why he got worked up inside over little things like this.
As students each took their turn, an occasional word was unique enough that Miss Z would ask for a quick explanation. The students using the atypical words appeared to love the attention, and it was clear that’s why they chose the word they did. This kind of attention is exactly what Walter wanted to avoid. The normal words didn’t garner any extra attention. Walter did not like being the center of attention.
Would “unusual” work? Walter wondered. Moving had made for an unusual summer.
Doubt crept in again.
That would probably make me sound weird, he thought to himself, deciding against it.
Walter thought a little more about the summer. He shuttered at how overwhelming everything had been.
Chaotic? It certainly had been just that. But Miss Z would surely ask why his summer had been chaotic.
Busy, he thought to himself. He started to relax.
He couldn’t believe it hadn’t been used yet! It was the perfect word.
His family had moved to a new town and had gone through so many changes. The word fit, and it was so generic that Walter was sure it wouldn’t garner any extra attention.
The introductions finally made their way to Walter’s row. As the back of the row began, Walter settled in to listen to the three students ahead of him. He would be third to last.
“I’m Craig and my word is ‘relaxing,” a boy a few desks away said.
A boy in front of Craig spoke next. “I’m Javier and my word is ‘busy.’”
What?! Walter shouted in his head.
He felt his heart start racing. Even his breathing picked up. He couldn’t believe it. This was just his luck. He knew deep down he shouldn’t be stressing this, but he desperately wanted to fly under the radar, and “busy” was the only word he was sure could do it.
He quickly racked his brain over the summer’s activity, ignoring the girl behind him as she took her turn. He thought of the house, moving, Daniel’s letters, and Mom’s job. When he felt the eyes in the room turn to him, Waler knew it was his turn.
“I’m uh… I’m Walter… and my word is…” Walter spoke slowly, as he raced through his thoughts from the day, remembering the first-day-of-school pictures this morning, standing in front of the door they had painted just after moving in.
“My word is… Turquoise.” Walter said, cringing. He wanted to snatch the word right out of the air, strangle it, and shove it back in his mouth as soon as it escaped.
He bit his lip tightly, trying to stay calm, hoping the girl in front of him would speak up before Miss Z could inquire. He couldn’t believe the stroke of luck as the curly blonde-haired girl in front of him began.
“I’m Jenny…” she started. Walter felt himself exhale as he looked down at his interlocked fingers which were now relaxing from all the clenching. Just then, Miss Z interrupted Jenny.
“Pardon me, Jenny, but Walter?” Miss Z started, “that’s the first color we have heard used to describe the summer break. I love that color. Why ‘turquoise?’”
Walter’s heart pounded heavy against his chest. The answer was simple, but he could feel all eyes in the class fixed on him. He wanted to escape. He took a deep breath.
“It’s just our door,” he told her.
“Your door?” She asked, smiling.
“Yeah we moved to a new door,” Walter misspoke. Many in the class chuckled before Miss Z encouraged his correction.
“You moved homes?” She said.
“Yeah, our family moved here and my mom didn’t like the old color of the door, so… we uh… painted it.” Walter told her, as he looked back at his fisted hands, desperately hoping his answer would suffice and they could move on.
Miss Z likely sensed his nervousness as she quickly said, “And what a lovely color you all chose! Now Jenny?” She motioned for Jenny to continue.
Walter used his index finger to discreetly wipe the sweat which had formed on his forehead under his thick curly hair during what he was sure was the longest thirty seconds in middle school history. So much for a smooth first day. Walter wasn’t sure if he could make it through the day with or without Daniel’s letters. Only an hour had passed since the morning bell and he was off to an abysmal start.
The last few students did their introductions. The last one to go had just finished saying “yard work” when he was interrupted by the intercom and TV at the front of the room as school wide announcements and a welcome message from a monotone principal’s voice took over.
Finally! Walter thought to himself...
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