The walk to Midtown High took about fifteen minutes as the school sat only a few blocks from our house.
The building itself was... well, it was a school.
Students were already flooding through the front entrance, laughing and shoving each other, completely at ease in their little social circles.
Meanwhile, I was the new kid. Again.
I checked my schedule again. Room 304. Ms. Lind. Chemistry.
I made my way up to the third floor, dodging groups of students who clearly owned these hallways. Nobody gave me a second glance. I was invisible. Which was fine by me, honestly.
Room 304 was at the end of the hall.
I stood outside for a second, took a breath, and knocked.
"Come in!" A woman's voice called from inside.
I opened the door and stepped in. The classroom was half full already, students chatting and settling into their seats. At the front stood a woman in her thirties, Asian, with her hair pulled back in a neat bun. She looked up from her desk and smiled when she saw me.
"You must be Adam Maxwell," she said, walking over. "I'm Ms. Lind. Welcome to Midtown High."
"Thanks," I said, adjusting my bag strap. "Sorry if I'm early."
"No, no, perfect timing actually." She gestured toward her desk. "I got your transfer paperwork yesterday. Kansas, right?"
"Yeah.
She nodded. "Big change, I imagine."
You could say that again. Back home, everyone knew everyone. Here? I was just another face in a sea of thousands. Part of me liked the anonymity. The other part felt like I was drowning in it.
"It's definitely... different," I said.
"You'll adjust. Give it time." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Bell's about to ring. Once everyone's settled, I'll introduce you to the class. Sound good?"
I nodded.
She motioned to an empty desk near the middle of the room. "You can sit there for now."
I made my way over and dropped my bag beside the desk. A few students glanced my way, curious, but most were too busy with their own conversations to care. I pulled out my phone and pretended to check messages, even though I had nothing new. Just something to do with my hands.
The bell rang.
Students filed in quickly, filling up the remaining seats. The chatter died down as Ms. Lind moved to the front of the class and clapped her hands once.
"Alright, everyone, settle down." She waited until the room went quiet. "Before we dive into today's lesson, we have a new student joining us."
"Adam, would you like to come up and introduce yourself?"
No. No, I would not like to do that.
But I stood up anyway because what else was I gonna do? I walked to the front, feeling every pair of eyes on me. My palms were sweating. Cool. Very cool.
I turned to face the class.
"Uh, hey," I started. Real smooth, Adam. "I'm Adam Maxwell. I just transferred here from Kansas. I like... I don't know, normal stuff. Video games, I guess. Music. Yeah."
Wow. Riveting introduction. I'm sure they're all dying to be my friend now.
A girl in the front row giggled. I wasn't sure if it was at me or just in general, but either way, I wanted to disappear.
Ms. Lind must've sensed my discomfort because she jumped in. "Thank you, Adam. I'm sure everyone will make you feel welcome here at Midtown." She looked at the class. "Right, everyone?"
A few halfhearted nods. One guy in the back gave me a thumbs up. I'd take it.
"You can take your seat," Ms. Lind said.
I didn't need to be told twice. I practically speed walked back to my desk and sat down, sinking into the chair like it could swallow me whole.
The girl sitting next to me leaned over slightly. She had curly brown hair and a friendly face. "Kansas, huh?" she whispered. "That's cool. I'm Liz, by the way."
"Adam."
"Don't worry. First day's always weird."
I gave her a small smile. "Thanks."
Ms. Lind had just started writing something on the board when the classroom door burst open.
A kid stumbled in, out of breath, clutching his backpack strap like his life depended on it. He had brown hair that looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, round glasses that were slightly crooked on his face, and this whole awkward energy that screamed "I'm late and I know it."
Ms. Lind turned around, one eyebrow raised. "Mr. Parker." Her voice had that teacher tone. You know the one. Not quite angry, but definitely not happy either. "Care to explain why you're late? Again?"
The kid, Parker, opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "I, uh... there was this... situation. With the subway. And then my alarm didn't go off. Well, it did go off, but I thought it was... earlier? And then I had to help this old lady with her groceries because she dropped them on the stairs and I couldn't just leave her there, right? That would've been really rude and..."
He trailed off when he noticed the entire class staring at him.
Ms. Lind sighed. The kind of sigh that said she'd heard every excuse in the book and this one didn't even crack the top ten. "Take your seat, Peter. And please, try to be on time tomorrow."
"Yes, ma'am. I mean, Ms. Lind. Sorry." He shuffled toward an empty desk near the back, his face turning red.
Poor guy looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. And honestly? I felt that. At least I wasn't the only one having an awkward first impression today.
Liz leaned over again, whispering. "That's Peter Parker. He's late, like, every other day. Nice guy though. Just... perpetually in disaster mode."
I glanced back at him. He was pulling out his notebook, still looking flustered, and knocked his pen off the desk in the process. It rolled across the floor and he had to scramble to pick it up.
Yeah. Disaster mode sounded about right.
=====
Ms. Lind turned back to the board and started writing out discussion questions about The Great Gatsby. "Alright, let's talk about the symbolism of the green light. What does it represent in the context of the American Dream?"
Several hands shot up immediately.
"Gwen?" Ms. Lind called on a blonde girl sitting near the front.
The girl sat up straighter. "The green light represents Gatsby's hope and his longing for Daisy. But it's also about the broader American Dream, right? The idea that you can reinvent yourself and achieve anything, even if it's ultimately unattainable."
"Excellent analysis," Ms. Lind said, nodding approvingly. "Can anyone expand on that?"
More hands. I sank lower in my seat, praying she wouldn't call on me.
"Peter?"
The kid from earlier perked up, glasses sliding down his nose a bit. "Um, yeah, so building on what Gwen said, I think the green light also shows how the past shapes our future. Gatsby's whole identity is built around this memory of Daisy, but he's chasing something that doesn't really exist anymore. It's like... he's stuck."
Damn. Okay. He was actually pretty smart.
Ms. Lind smiled. "Very insightful, Peter. The theme of time and memory is crucial to understanding Gatsby's tragedy."
The discussion kept going, and I tried to follow along, but honestly? I was just relieved every time someone else got called on instead of me. I'd read The Great Gatsby back in Kansas, sure, but I wasn't about to give some profound analysis about symbolism and themes. That wasn't really my thing.
Gwen and Peter kept going back and forth, trading ideas like they were in some kind of literary debate club. The blonde girl, Gwen, whatever her full name was, clearly knew her stuff. And Peter, despite showing up late and fumbling with his pen, was right there with her.
Meanwhile, I was just trying not to look lost.
Ms. Lind walked around the classroom, asking follow-up questions, calling on different students. My heart jumped every time she got close to my row, but somehow, miraculously, she never looked my way.
Thank god for small mercies.
Liz next to me was scribbling notes like crazy, occasionally raising her hand to contribute something. I pretended to take notes too, writing down random sentences that probably didn't make any sense, just so I looked like I was paying attention.
"Alright, good discussion today," Ms. Lind finally said, glancing at the clock. "For homework, I want you to write a one-page response about how Fitzgerald uses color symbolism throughout the novel. Due Friday."
The bell rang, and everyone started packing up their stuff. I shoved my notebook into my bag, relieved that I'd made it through without embarrassing myself further.
"Not so bad, right?" Liz said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.
"Yeah," I said. "Could've been worse."
She laughed. "That's the spirit. What class do you have next?"
I pulled out my schedule. "Uh... Chemistry. Room 210."
"Oh, nice. I have History. But Chemistry's on the second floor. Just take the stairs and turn left."
"Thanks."
"No problem. See you around, Kansas." She grinned and headed off.
I stood there for a second, watching students flood out into the hallway.