When We Love

After what felt like infinity, I smile relieved, and am slightly overwhelmed when all the students stand up in a sign of respect when the teacher walks through the door.

He is young and, to be honest, not the type of teacher I would have expected to be teaching at this school. I imagined them all to be ancient, pre-historic and very wise looking, but he surely is only, at the most, ten years older than I am. He smiles friendly while he motions with his hand to the other students to sit down. He looks at a piece of paper in his other hand, and then introduces me to the class, "This is Chrissie Taylor and she will be joining us from today."

The teacher looks up, grinning, and says, "Dare I say, Johnathan, severe competition for you."

I follow his gaze toward a blonde-haired, suntanned boy in the fourth row from the front, and Johnathan smiles amused, while looking at me, "At last, someone to compete against."

The other students look from Johnathan to me, and I can already see it in their eyes, they think I am a nerd, a geek, a drip, a bore - here we go again.

" Nothing like a little bit of competition to get you all to work harder," the teacher continues.

I had heard before coming to The Christian Academy that all the students here excel academically and it would be demanding for me to keep up with them, so I thought it would be easier for me to fit in. Now I wonder, as I see the teacher turn back to me again, why he would point Johnathan out, specifically. They should all be competition for me.

He interrupts my thoughts, "I am Mr. Johnson and you can take the seat next to Anne. She is on the Senior Student Council and has been allocated the task of showing you around and making you feel welcome."

I look away from Mr. Johnson and see a red-haired girl lift her hand up to her shoulder and wave her fingers back and forth. I walk toward her nervously and pray anxiously that she please not be a snob, but she smiles friendly, a smile which makes her green eyes glitter, and I feel the relief rush through me, from my shoulders straight to my toes.

I sit down next to her, and she moves her books, which were scattered over the entire desk aside, to give me space. Mr. Johnson starts to read his attendance list aloud, and one by one, as he goes down the list, the owner of the name calls out, "Present."