I tried to bring Addie along with me. Really, I did.
But she was too scared to even try most of the time. So I had to go it alone.
It hasn’t been easy, despite what Addie thinks. She’s made it a lot harder by the way she acts.
In grade nine, we were in most of the same classes. But this year is different. This year we aren’t in the same homeroom. We aren’t in the same French, history or civics classes either. But Addie is in my English and math classes, where on the first day she made sure to grab the seat next to mine. She’s also in my gym class, where she sticks to me like glue.
Here’s what I discovered last year. In the classes where it was just me and not Addie too, I could be anyone I wanted. Most of the kids didn’t know me, because most of them came from other schools. In fact, most of them didn’t know most of the other kids either. That meant I could put into practice what I’d learned in Boston. I made plenty of friends in those classes. I’m doing even better this year.
But in the classes where Addie clings to me, it’s harder. She sucks up my time and energy. She never wants to talk to anyone else—she’s convinced they won’t like her. When we have to break into groups, she stays silent. She hides behind her hair. Now I see how shy she really is. It’s like a disease with her. She can’t seem to shake it off. I’ve been trying to help her. Her answer every time? “I can’t. I’ll just die if I have to.” It doesn’t do any good to tell her that it’s medically impossible for anyone to die of shyness. Or embarrassment. Or being laughed at, for that matter.
At the urging of my English teacher—and to my surprise—I decided to try out for the school play this year. I tried to get Addie to audition too, but she wouldn’t. So then I tried to get her into doing costumes or sets or something. But she wouldn’t do that either. And, if you ask me, she tried to undermine my confidence by telling me all the time how the popular kids would get the parts, not kids like “us.” It made me mad because I don’t think I’m like her. Not anymore.
I showed her. I got a part. Not a starring role, but not a walk-on either. I got to play the best friend of the female lead. That’s how I got to know Jen and Kayla and Shayna. Kayla landed the female lead. She was good. She was nice too. At least, I thought she was. And I wasn’t the only one. John felt the same way. That’s John Branksome, the cutest guy in school. The most athletic. The boy who was always picked for whatever production was put on. Everyone likes John. Teachers adore him. Kayla fell for him. They hung together for a while. Then it was over—at least, it was over as far as John was concerned. To tell the truth, I don’t know whether John was really into a relationship or if it was all Kayla. All I know is what happened next.