Alexis Torres

My day had already been a confusing torment, and the last thing I wanted was to be late to my 7th period English class freshman year of high school. I wasn’t fearful of hearing the annoyingly tedious bell because I thought Survey of Literature was the most important thing that will have ever happened in my life, but because I didn’t want the reason for my lack of punctuality to be for the fact that I did not know where the classroom was. The bell had had sent echoes into the school hallways as soon as I opened the door to the classroom of equally curious eyes. The eloquent woman speaking aloud, who I later called Ms. Waltos, went on saying things about morals and ethics. Everyone’s attention was fully invested into her words when she started taking surveys by asking hypothetical questions. I was actively participating, until a shameless girl had begun to test Ms. Waltos’ logic by loudly voicing thoughts of hers, beginning with the words, “What if…” Emilee Trujillo was definitely not afraid to raise her voice even louder to make herself known to the class. I cringed at the thought of her having to hold back my learning capabilities simply because she felt like saying the first thing that popped into her head. I really hoped I wouldn’t have to speak to her again because I knew we couldn’t be friends. Looking back at the memory, I couldn’t have been more wrong about my assumption. It must have seemed considerably pathetic that the only friend I had been able to make at the onset of my freshman year was the increasingly hated public enemy of John F. Kennedy High School. It still makes perfect sense to me though. We were two teenagers with little that the people who cared enough to judge us liked. We weren’t a fixed personality and we easily found comfort in those aspects about us. It was as simple as that.