Hidebehind

Eight

Nothing happened for several more days, and then, all of a sudden, school started.

I woke up that day in a state of total disbelief. There was no way school could be starting. My parents were supposed to come and rescue us before that. I guess in my mind, I'd pegged the beginning of school as impossible. To me, it would never happen, because Penny and I weren't really supposed to be in that dusty town with two dusty old people. The whole thing was made up to torture us, but starting school just seemed unreal—something mom and dad would never make us do—so when the day came and Great Grandma woke me up early with a huge grin and a "Happy first day of school, kids!" I could hardly stomach it.

"I'm not done sleeping!" I almost yelled at her.

She shuffled around to my bed in her robe and slippers. "Now is that any way to start the day?"

I buried my face into my pillow in response.

"Robbie, you'll have a great time. Meet all the kids in the neighborhood. You know, you really haven't met any of them at all, yet. I thought you would have, by now."

She was not making me feel better. Nothing that old raisin said could make me feel better. Did she not realize that we lived in the middle of nowhere? What neighborhood was she even talking about?

"Come on, Rob," Penny cheerfully chimed in. "It'll be fun!"

Fun? Not likely. But I motivated myself enough to get out of bed, mostly because I wanted to please my little sister. She was always so happy; I couldn't spoil her first day of school just because I was determined to hate mine.

I dressed myself without caring and ate a bowl of cereal, telling Great Grandma that I didn't want all the scrambled eggs she'd made. Mom never made eggs on the first day of school. She always made waffles with chocolate chips in them. Penny ate the eggs. Traitor.

Back home we took a bus to school. That was when we lived in a neighborhood that actually had enough kids to fill a bus. Here, since we were on a farm at the end of a dirt road and most other people lived somewhere I had never even seen, there was no bus. We couldn't walk, either. It was too far, and we didn't even know the way. So, to make the morning worse than it already was, Great Grandma declared that she was going to drive us to school. At that point, I almost didn't even care, because I was going to look like the biggest dork-of-a-new-kid no matter what; having my great grandmother drive me was just icing on the cupcake. I wasn't going to like anybody there, anyhow, so instead of arguing, I just tucked my resentment into a hole in my brain and schlumped into the back seat of the car, letting Penny take the front.

My sister chattered the whole way there. I don't even know what she talked about. Her voice was like someone incessantly sharpening a pencil, so I just tuned her out and watched the town move by the windows. The school wasn't really all that far. It was too far to walk, but I thought that if I'd had a bike, I could easily have ridden there. When we moved, I had refused to bring my bike, because I knew I'd be back home soon and wouldn't need it. In my imagination, the bike was still waiting in the garage at our real house.

Kids were all over the outside of the building. My stomach hurt when Great Grandma pulled her enormous maroon metal beast up to the front and braked, claiming that this was our stop. At least she wasn't going to get out and walk us in.

We got a lot of stares as we got out of the car. My sense was that this was the kind of place where everybody already knew everybody, and new kids didn't show up too often. I could feel my face turning red from all the eyes on us, but I just stared at the ground and walked my little sister into the building

Inside, I occupied myself with helping Penny find her classroom and meet her teacher, even though she insisted she didn't need my help. She probably knew I was just trying to kill time before going into the eighth grade room, but I couldn't wait forever. So after leaving my sister, I wandered to the second floor and found the class that had a sign reading "Mr. Cook, 8th Grade Homeroom," took a deep breath, and walked in.