f o u r t e e n ; to start off on wrong foot

5 years ago, 6th grade

Friendships aren’t built overnight, I realize.

On the day I get back from my suspension, there’s not a big difference on how Kai treats me. Am I a fool to think that he’s going to turn an one-eighty and greet me with a dramatic embrace because he’s happy to see me? Maybe. Nonetheless, I have expected more than the indifference I receive from him in the morning. At least it’s not rudeness, but it still feels like I’ve been splashed with cold water when he merely acknowledges my smile with a subtle bob of his head and an expressionless face.

It takes a lot of my willpower to refrain myself from yelling, “I DESERVE MORE THAN THAT DRY GREETING. I THOUGHT WE WERE BEGINNING TO MOVE TOWARD A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP BACK AT MY HOUSE LAST WEEK?”

So I pretend that it’s not big deal. Doesn’t bother me at all. Nope.

Not one single thought is wasted on the new kid.

Zero. Nada.

Except, I think about the exchange all day.

•   •   •   •   •   •   •

“You’re in my seat,” I tell him at lunch. He still sits by himself, and it doesn’t appear like the bullies have been giving him trouble. In fact, I have encountered them on my way to the seat Kai has unofficially marked as his own territory, eating his chocolate pudding with lack of interest in everyone else’s business. It’s also their first day back from suspension. The principal prohibited the group to have regular lunch in the cafeteria for two weeks, which explains why they are heading in the opposite direction, toward the classroom buildings—our elementary school does not have actual detention so this is our version of it. A couple of them send daggers openly at me as if looks could hurt. In return, I narrow my eyes at them and walk with my chin held high. It gives me a sense of satisfaction that they don’t have the privilege to spend lunch recess freely for another two weeks. I hope they get continuous bad karma, like stepping on legos, until they learn how to be kind to people.

He scoops the dessert into his mouth, gifting me a blank stare of his. “Why is this seat so important