Maeko breathed slowly trying to slow her heartbeat. Though the halls were
deserted except for a group of lollygaggers whom didn't appear to be savory
characters, she felt as though a hundred eyes were staring at her. To calm
herself, she began reciting a prayer, silently in her native tongue of her
beloved Japan. The familiar words, quite unlike those enigmatic English
syllables, rolled off her tongue easily and calmed her. For a moment, it
was like she was back home instead of standing outside of a rather crowded
office, waiting for a lady in a tan business suit to come.
Ms. Phillips rushed out her office, her high heels making nice little clomping noises against the cracked tile floor. "Sorry you had to wait so long," she said, "but sometimes we run into little hassles when dealing with exchange students. Papers get mixed up; you understand, right?"
Maeko nodded not really understanding what she was talking about. She wished she would talk slower but Ms. Phillips seemed the type of women always full of talk and always babbling like a brook. Best thing to do in situations like this were to just let the person talk until they tire themselves. Besides letting her talk took the burden of creating conversation.
She looked at her schedule. Four classes about an hour and a half long with eight minute breaks in between. Lunchtime was after second period and today's special was pizza. Thanks to the information Jonathan had given her, she already her way around school and didn't need Ms. Phillips to show her, but she let her anyway.
Ms. Phillips led her to her first class: Algebra with Mr. Hearst in A102. "Wait here," she said, gesturing wildly as though she didn't understand (which she did.) Maeko watched as Ms. Phillips discussed something with the teacher. At first she tried to follow their conversation but then gave up and started daydreaming. After a few minutes, the door opened and she was led in.
The classroom was small with peeling sky-blue paint and cracked, yellow windows. The desks were arranged in simple rows and seemed to stretch for miles. Was my classroom in Usa this big, she asked herself. The students were hunched over in their desks, attempting to solve the problem on the board. They paid no attention to Maeko until Mr. Hearst cleared his throat with a loud "Ahem!" Immediately every set of eyes was focused on Mr. Hearst and the girl standing next to him.
Maeko felt a lump the size of an apple rise into her throat. What if they asked her to talk about her home? What if she forgot everything Jonathan had told her? She was grateful when Mr. Hearst broke the awkward silence.
"Class, we have a new student. Her name is Kumiko Tanaka and she is from Yokohama, Japan," said Mr. Hearst.
"Hello Kumiko," the students responded.
"Miss Tanaka will you please take the seat next to Miss Pryde," said Mr. Hearst.
"Yes sir," she said, grateful that he hadn't asked her to say anything. She tiptoed to the back of the classroom and took her seat. The class resumed its discussion. Maeko found herself studying the sea of faces around her. Some were big, some were small, some had blue eyes, some had green but all were remarkably like in composition.
She probably wasn't going to make any friends here but that was probably for the best. Jonathan had told her to keep a low profile. She wondered what Kyoko would say. Kyoko would love the idea of going to an American school. She'd pressure her for gossip, ask her if there were any cute American boys, and beg her to bring back a bottle of American perfume. Maeko smiled as she remembered the smell of Kyoko's lilac perfume, which she wore on any occasion she could. She felt little tears of homesickness form.
No, no, Maeko scolded herself. Don't think about Kyoko. You are no longer Maeko from Usa; you are Kumiko Tanaka from Yokohama. She began writing her name over and over again so she wouldn't forget. She absentmindedly drew the characters for mama, papa, and most importantly, Kyoko.
Goodbye Kyoko, she thought as she marked out the little sign, I hope we meet again.
Ms. Phillips rushed out her office, her high heels making nice little clomping noises against the cracked tile floor. "Sorry you had to wait so long," she said, "but sometimes we run into little hassles when dealing with exchange students. Papers get mixed up; you understand, right?"
Maeko nodded not really understanding what she was talking about. She wished she would talk slower but Ms. Phillips seemed the type of women always full of talk and always babbling like a brook. Best thing to do in situations like this were to just let the person talk until they tire themselves. Besides letting her talk took the burden of creating conversation.
She looked at her schedule. Four classes about an hour and a half long with eight minute breaks in between. Lunchtime was after second period and today's special was pizza. Thanks to the information Jonathan had given her, she already her way around school and didn't need Ms. Phillips to show her, but she let her anyway.
Ms. Phillips led her to her first class: Algebra with Mr. Hearst in A102. "Wait here," she said, gesturing wildly as though she didn't understand (which she did.) Maeko watched as Ms. Phillips discussed something with the teacher. At first she tried to follow their conversation but then gave up and started daydreaming. After a few minutes, the door opened and she was led in.
The classroom was small with peeling sky-blue paint and cracked, yellow windows. The desks were arranged in simple rows and seemed to stretch for miles. Was my classroom in Usa this big, she asked herself. The students were hunched over in their desks, attempting to solve the problem on the board. They paid no attention to Maeko until Mr. Hearst cleared his throat with a loud "Ahem!" Immediately every set of eyes was focused on Mr. Hearst and the girl standing next to him.
Maeko felt a lump the size of an apple rise into her throat. What if they asked her to talk about her home? What if she forgot everything Jonathan had told her? She was grateful when Mr. Hearst broke the awkward silence.
"Class, we have a new student. Her name is Kumiko Tanaka and she is from Yokohama, Japan," said Mr. Hearst.
"Hello Kumiko," the students responded.
"Miss Tanaka will you please take the seat next to Miss Pryde," said Mr. Hearst.
"Yes sir," she said, grateful that he hadn't asked her to say anything. She tiptoed to the back of the classroom and took her seat. The class resumed its discussion. Maeko found herself studying the sea of faces around her. Some were big, some were small, some had blue eyes, some had green but all were remarkably like in composition.
She probably wasn't going to make any friends here but that was probably for the best. Jonathan had told her to keep a low profile. She wondered what Kyoko would say. Kyoko would love the idea of going to an American school. She'd pressure her for gossip, ask her if there were any cute American boys, and beg her to bring back a bottle of American perfume. Maeko smiled as she remembered the smell of Kyoko's lilac perfume, which she wore on any occasion she could. She felt little tears of homesickness form.
No, no, Maeko scolded herself. Don't think about Kyoko. You are no longer Maeko from Usa; you are Kumiko Tanaka from Yokohama. She began writing her name over and over again so she wouldn't forget. She absentmindedly drew the characters for mama, papa, and most importantly, Kyoko.
Goodbye Kyoko, she thought as she marked out the little sign, I hope we meet again.