Smoke and mirrors filled the room as bright laser lights shot out from everywhere. I felt like I was in a fever dream. As if by magic, shapes began to take form as the smoke started to dissipate. To my surprise, many people were now standing in the room that had not been there before.
"Woo-wee," whistled Owen. I was a bit jealous that he knew how to do that. "Christmas musta came early this year, cause place sure be getting claustrophobic." One of the new girls in the room shot him a withering glance that quieted him down faster than the teacher ever could.
A tall, skinny boy with a large, imposing nose stepped forward out of the newcomers. "May I?" he asked the teacher.
"You may," they replied, allowing him to command the attention of everyone in the room.
"Greetings, proles," said the boy curtly. "We are the Paige Preparatory School Class of 373, also known as the first graders, and therefore your superiors. We will be your pen pals for the upcoming school year."
The blonde girl raised her hand again. "I still don't know what that is."
"Silence," he replied. "We will split up into groups of eight people each, four kindergarteners and four first graders. From that point, you will each be assigned a pen-pal from the other class." He produced a strange machine. "Now, it is time to divide our classes into groups." He pressed a few buttons on the machine and images of people's faces started spinning around the machine's screen, much like the thoughts in my head. I have a lot of those. After what seemed like an eternity, the machine stopped. I searched for my face among the sea of people and saw it grouped with seven other individuals, including the big nosed boy that seemed to be the leader of the first graders, and surprisingly, Jordan as well. The other five people I didn't recognize, but I was able to pick out their faces in the crowd pretty quickly. My breath catching in my throat, I exchanged a glance with Jordan as the eight people in our group convened on the edge of the rug. Along with the boy with the big nose, the other first graders were a rotund boy wearing a tight neon green t-shirt that didn't quite stretch over his outie belly button, a pink baseball cap turned backwards over a black fohawk, crisp white tennis shorts, and orange triangle-shaped sunglasses, a rather frumpy looking guy wearing a thin, white t-shirt and a nervous face that glistened with sweat and acne, and a girl with mid-length brown hair held back with a hairband wearing a button down collared shirt and plaid skirt. I recognized her as the girl who had glared at Owen earlier. From our class, there was me, Jordan, a stolid looking boy wit a square head, almond shaped eyes, jowely cheeks, and relatively small arms, and a girl with long, silky black hair, a long white coat, and clear plastic glasses that covered her eyes with just one large lens. My mama says that I shouldn't pass judgement on people for how they look, because only Jesus is allowed to do that, and because it's what's inside that really matters, but looking at some of this crew, it was tough.
"Well, no point in wasting time with this," began the big nosed boy, taking initiative. "Let's get the formalities over with so you can all get back to whatever inane tasks you were doing beforehand. My name is Tim, and I am the rightful class president of the first grade." He opened his eyes and looked at us with disdain. "You," he said, settling on the girl with long hair and glasses. "you seem like the only one out of this group with enough intellect to keep me from being unbearably bored. Therefore, you shall be my pen pal. What is your name?"
"I call myself Julia," replied the girl, extending her hand for a handshake. Tim just stared at it scornfully, his arms remaining crossed. After a few seconds, Julia awkwardly retracted her hand.
"Uh, I'm Chuck," honked the big guy in the white shirt. "I'm in first grade." Tim looked like he wanted to escape.
"That's pretty cool," replied Jordan. "I'm Jordan, why don't we be pen-pals?"
A bead of sweat trickled down Chuck's face. "Yeah, sure, haha," he replied. "Unless..."
"Wabba dabba dow!" shouted the rotund boy in glasses, flashing fictional gang signs as he spoke into a microphone. "Yibbity bibbity hee haw!"
"Uh…" explained Chuck, "That's Zak. He's a really cool dude. Zak, who do you want to be your pen pal?"
Zak excitedly snapped his arm forward, pointing a sausage-like finger straight at me and doing an impeccable Soulja Boy impression. "YOOOOUUUU!"
"Me?" I mouthed, pointing at myself.
Zak nodded. "YOOOOUUUU!" I wasn't sure whether to feel confused, entertained, uncomfortable, or flattered.
"Wow! Okay. Nice to meet you, Zak!" I said, cheerfully. Zak jumped in the air, did a 360 spin, landed on his feet, gave me a fist bump, and then grinned and gave me a thumbs up, "Ka-zoom!" I really vibed with this dude's energy.
"I guess that only leaves the two of us," ventured the boy with the square head in a nasally, halting voice. "Me name is Kyle."
The last girl finally spoke. "I guess that means I have to be your pen pal then," she said with barely concealed malice. "My name is Emma." She glared at Kyle intensely. "We might be pen pals, but don't get any ideas." Kyle turned bright red and scratched his mop of brown hair, shuffling his legs uncomfortably and emitting a smell similar to that of gasoline.
"I think I just peed me pants a little," he squeaked.
Suddenly, the teacher appeared right next to him. "Don't worry about it," they said in a carefree voice. "You just need to go into the bathroom over there, and there'll be a new change of clothes for you in there."
"Okay," muttered Kyle, shuffling off towards the bathroom. I felt a little sorry for him.
"So, how goes our little meet n' greet?" asked the teacher, looking at all of us earnestly.
"It's going well enough," responded Tim. "May we be excused now? I'd rather return to studying my textbook discussing the economic viability of British Colonial Imperialism." I understood like, three of those words.
"What a scholarly vocabulary! You must be a true intellectual!" the teacher commented, their hands on their stomach.
"Naturally," said Tim, turning up his schnoz at the teacher.
"Very well then, if everyone has decided on their pen-pals, you may disperse." Tim stalked off in a huff, glad to be away from this utter waste of his time.
"Which is his problem?" Julia asked.
"Tim's the smartest guy I ever met," explained Chuck. "He's pretty much a genius. Nobody else is as smart as him, so we all just kind of annoy him with how dumb we are."
"He doesn't need to act so snotty," remarked Jordan.
Surprisingly, Emma weighed in on the conversation. "I admit I dislike his attitude, but I can't deny that he's earned every shred of his ego. He's been a great leader for our class and has always made the right decisions for us. He's even smarter than our teacher, so he just kind of does his own thing."
"Yeah," added Chuck, sweating nervously. "There's talk going around that they're gonna let him skip second and third grade."
"Anyways," cut off Emma, "I've said more than enough on the subject. Goodbye." she turned her back and walked away from us.
"Papa-pow!" exclaimed Zak, flashing the Spiderman hang ten symbol before turning around and bunny hopping away. I was looking forward to what kind of letter a person like him might send me. That just left me Jordan, Chuck, and Julia left in the group. His classmates having abandoned him, Chuck was clearly nervous about how to react to these strange new people. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead just gulped, the movement of his Adam's apple causing beads of sweat to drip further down his neck.
"Uh, well..." Chuck honked. "It looks like the other groups are finishing up, so I better get back to my class. See you guys." He lumbered off after the rest of the first graders.
"By the way," said Julia offhandedly, "I don't think that I am familiar to you. How do you call yourself?" She extended her hand.
"I'm Maddie," I responded, shaking her hand and making eye contact with her. My mama says that when you shake hands with somebody, you're supposed to look them in the eyes. I could feel Jordan's eyes boring into me as I did so. "Sorry I didn't get a chance to introduce myself during centers."
"There is not a problem," said Julia. "What does it please you to do, and which is a fun fact about you?"
I briefly wracked my brain and my body locked up, meaning that my cold, clammy hand was clutching Julia's as tightly as Jordan clutches his notebook for an uncomfortably long time. "Well," I began slowly and hesitantly, "I like my new pen pal, and a fun fact is that I'm looking forward to whatever he writes in his letter to me."
Jordan's face turned beet red. "You… l-like him? Like, like like him?"
My face turned red too as I realized the impact of the words I had just spoken out of my mouth. "N-no! I didn't mean like that. I just think he's a cool dude is all!"
"It's the truth," commented Julia, imagining Zak pointing towards the sky with one finger and holding a boombox on his shoulder with the other. "But oh well. And me, the chemistry pleases me. My fun fact is that my parents are doctors."
"W-wait," continued Jordan, his face turning so red that his little spectacles started fogging up. "You don't mean the chemistry between Maddie and Zak, do you?"
"Hoo hoo hoo!" a scratchy voice sounded behind Jordan. "Aww, is Jor-bah a widdle jealous?" Owen's hands reached around Jordan's head, tugging on his ears and pulling his mouth into a comical grin.
"Sta-ahp," said Jordan, and Owen let him go. Before the conversation could continue further, the teacher's handbell signaled an announcement.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and others," said the teacher melodramatically, making sure to be inclusive to beings that fell outside of the gender binary. "It is now lunchtime. Please line up and follow the line leader to the cafeteria. Jordan, you are the line leader."
"Me?" asked Jordan, acting shocked.
"Wow Jor-bah, looks like you're more important than you thought," said Owen, clapping Jordan on the back. "Alright everyone, line up behind lover boy here!"
As if on queue, everyone filed into their respective place in line. I was right behind Kiki, and right in front of a tall, strong looking boy with a gaunt looking face and dark eyes. He was wearing a loose fitting olive-green t-shirt with a mosaic sun on it.
In a single file line led by Jordan, we exited the kindergarten building, crossed the playground and the street into the main campus, and proceeded into the cafeteria building.