Real Courage

6 June 2016

Between me and the athletes there were several more tables, all filled with energetic dancers, thoughtful theater kids, and noisy band members with their instrument cases spread over the table along with the peanut butter sandwiches and bags of carrot sticks. I didn’t feel like I matched any of these groups. At my old school, I was friends with everyone, and we didn’t have to share a hobby in order to have plenty in common.

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It seemed as though all of these groups shared one specific thing with each other, which I didn’t share with any of them. One day, I noticed someone else sitting like me: quiet and alone in the shade of one of the courtyard’s big pine trees. She was small and brown-haired, reading a book while she munched on an apple she had pulled out of the crumpled paper lunch sack that sat on the ground next to her. Strangely, this girl seemed perfectly happy to sit by herself, and I guessed that was the reason she hadn’t introduced herself to me or asked me to sit with her.

Between me and the athletes there were several more tables, all filled with energetic dancers, thoughtful theater kids, and noisy band members with their instrument cases spread over the table along with the peanut butter sandwiches and bags of carrot sticks. I didn’t feel like I matched any of these groups. At my old school, I was friends with everyone, and we didn’t have to share a hobby in order to have plenty in common. It seemed as though all of these groups shared one specific thing with each other, which I didn’t share with any of them. One day, I noticed someone else sitting like me: quiet and alone in the shade of one of the courtyard’s big pine trees. She was small and brown-haired, reading a book while she munched on an apple she had pulled out of the crumpled paper lunch sack that sat on the ground next to her.

Strangely, this girl seemed perfectly happy to sit by herself, and I guessed that was the reason she hadn’t introduced herself to me or asked me to sit with her. Between me and the athletes there were several more tables, all filled with energetic dancers, thoughtful theater kids, and noisy band members with their instrument cases spread over the table along with the peanut butter sandwiches and bags of carrot sticks. I didn’t feel like I matched any of these groups.

At my old school, I was friends with everyone, and we didn’t have to share a hobby in order to have plenty in common. It seemed as though all of these groups shared one specific thing with each other, which I didn’t share with any of them. One day, I noticed someone else sitting like me: quiet and alone in the shade of one of the courtyard’s big pine trees. She was small and brown-haired, reading a book while she munched on an apple she had pulled out of the crumpled paper lunch sack that sat on the ground next to her. Strangely, this girl seemed perfectly happy to sit by herself, and I guessed that was the reason she hadn’t introduced herself to me or asked me to sit with her.

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