People snicker. Even though some of us are literally certifiably insane, we look at this new kid with looks ranging from mirth to pity. Ponyboy, that's an interesting name. The teacher hands him some papers, schedules and the like, and directs Ponyboy to sit next to me. Cautiously, Ponyboy delicately sits in the chair next to me, as if I'm a bomb waiting to go off. I smile at him, which is kind of uncomfortable because I haven't smiled in a long time and any unneccessary movement of my facial muscles feels odd on my face. Me smiling at him doesn't seem to reassure him, maybe I look like I'm grimacing or maybe he's creeped out by this place as much as I was at first. He doesn't belong here, I can tell.
Throughout Math, I start to like Ponyboy a bit more. He and I raise our hands for every question the teacher asks, so it's like a silent competition. It's not much, most people would say it's not anything, but I feel like I'm closer to Ponyboy.
Dinnertime; I hate it. I hate it more than breakfast because at breakfast kids are groggy and quiet, but at dinnertime kids are fully awake and loud. The silence at Anisha and I's table is magnified, and my self esteem lowers each day. I glimpse, above the pages of my book, Ponyboy. He has a flock of people all around him, popular people who have already gotten used to his name and already know his story. They direct him to their table and find him a place to sit. At this point I feel like a stalker so I divert my eyes, but before I go back to my book I notice that Ponyboy seems more uncomfortable than I am.
It turns out, Ponyboy and I have just about every class together. This makes me happy; am I developing a crush? Doubtful, I know almost nothing about Ponyboy. Nothing happens at all through the first week. Even though I'm pretty sure I have a crush on Ponyboy, I don't obsess over him as much as I did the first day.
Unhappily, the weekend rolls around. It's sort of like a daycare on Saturday morning, all the kids (which isn't allot) pile into the cafeteria and his or her parent or guardian signs them out. My parents come later, after doing all their errands they reluctantly pick up me. Ponyboy's guardian comes first. I say guardian because he looks young and handsome, too young to be a parent. They hug briefly, then Ponyboy's guardian signs Ponyboy out and they go on their way.
Around an hour later, my parents come. They're fairly good as parents go, paying this school's tuition and feeding me, but we don't exactly have a close relationship. Understandable, since they think I'm looney tunes and I think they're wrong. Mother comes in, signs me out, then pulls me out of the recesses of my book with a forced smile. I smile back, even though the motion is still unfamiliar. We get into the shiny car and drive home, Mother giving me information and questions and me responding in monosyllables. At home, I sit at the windowseat and stare, just thinking about nothing.