by Laila Duarte
The first thing I noticed about high school was the noise. Lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking, people calling out to friends they hadn’t seen since June. I walked through the front doors holding my schedule like it was a map to a place I wasn’t sure I belonged.
Everyone else seemed to know where to go. They moved in clusters, laughing, comparing schedules, already slipping into the rhythm of the year. I kept my head down and tried to look like I had somewhere to be. My backpack felt too heavy, my steps too slow, like the building itself could tell I was new to all of this.
In first period, the teacher asked us to introduce ourselves. People talked about summer trips, sports teams, inside jokes I didn’t understand. When it was my turn, I said my name and something about liking to read. My voice sounded small, but no one laughed. They just nodded, like that was enough.
At lunch, I stood in the doorway of the cafeteria for a full minute, pretending to check my phone while scanning the room. Every table looked full. Not physically, but socially. I ended up sitting outside on a bench, eating slowly so it didn’t look like I was alone on purpose.
Halfway through my sandwich, a girl from my English class walked by. She paused, then asked if she could sit. I shrugged, trying to act casual, even though my heart jumped a little. We talked about the book we were reading for class and how confusing the hallways were. She said she didn’t know many people either.
When the bell rang, we walked back inside together. It wasn’t a big moment. But it was enough to make my first day of school feel a little less huge, a little less impossible.
And for the first time that day, I didn’t feel like I was walking alone.
About the Author
Laila brings curiosity and heart to everything she does. She’s discovering her voice as a writer and finding her place in a new community, one class and one story at a time.