On The Tracks ✔

Chapter 20: 'You've Got A Friend In Me'

BEFORE

April 22nd 2003

Gabriella

I placed down the red crayon, and stared at my work of the coloured gingerbread man and his cookie house.

I heard an 'Owie' and decided to look up; to see where all the noise was coming from. A girl hit Thomas with her book. Thomas is a bully, and I wonder how she was able to do that. She seems so brave and awesome.

I push my seat back, skipping all the way to the blue table she sat on. Mrs. Tilly's table wasn't so far from hers, so I have to be quick if I wanted to talk to her before Mrs. Tilly returned from the wee-wee room.

As I got closer, I noticed her pretty brown hair that made mine look like ashes- I don't like that. I skipped all the way to her table and tugged on her brown, blue-ribbon laced hair.

"I don't like your hair," I spoke grumpily.

She didn't seem bothered, "I like my hair and that's all that matters," she raised her nose. Her brown eyes, narrowed at me, "Is there something, you'd like to say to me?"

"I just wanted to say it was cool," I grumbled out. "What you did to Thomas." Forgetting about the nagging teacher, I slid into the plastic, pink seat next to her. "Why did you hit him anyways?"

For the first time since our only encounter a few minutes ago, she seemed hurt and sniffled, "He said my pony tail makes me look like a horse."

"No," I shook my head. "Don't listen to him; he's a bully."

She wiped her red eyes and looked at me, "What's the difference between what you said a minute ago and what he said?" She paused, "How aren't you a bully?"

My lips turned into a frown, "I'm sorry," I felt bad now, "I was lying, I really like your ponytail; I was just jelly." I shrugged, hoping she'll accept my apology.

She giggled a bit, "It's fine," I laugh with her, "I was also jelly of your hair," she said in turn, tugging my hair.

I looked at her drawing, "Wow, you really like colouring- you should be an artist," I said honestly.

She shrugged, "I'd like to be." It would be nice to have another friend apart from Mr. Snuffles.

"And I'd like to be friends," I stretched out my hand, like how I saw Daddy do with his friends that hold big, black briefcases- and sometimes look like pirates with their eye patches.

"Sure," she shook my hand, "My name is Gwendalyn, and you can call me Gwennie or Gwen." I'll call you Gee.

I nod my head, "My name is Gabriella, you can call me Gabby, Ri–ri, Bri, Ella, Ells–"

She cut me off, "Woah that's a lot of nicknames, I'm going to call you Briella."

Suddenly, Mrs. Tilly appears, "Why are you at the blue table?" she barked angrily.

"Because I wanted to make a new friend," I answered, smiling at Gee.

"That's not a valid response," she fumed.

I was confused, "What does 'valid' mean?" I tilted my head.

She was clenching her knuckles, "Scram, you brat."

Why would she call me a brat? I thought brats were mean people, but I'm not mean, am I? I felt tears slip out of my eyes, "I'm going to tell my Daddy, what you said."

Dada said if I have any problem I should tell him, and he'll take care of it. She sneered at me, "Who do you think you are? At anything, if I call he'll listen to me – your teacher!"