Jamie (Nellie)

Being a sophomore at a small-town Ohio high school sucked. No one knew you, but at the same time, they did. I realized that when I got my book bag tossed across the hallway by those stupid hockey jocks. AGAIN. It was only the second week of school, and I ALREADY felt my OCD acting up.

"Oh, what's the matter?" One of the boys mocked, laughing "Did you lose count?"

I felt my cheeks turn pink, and kicked myself. They knew. They heard me counting the turns on my locker dial again.

"Poor Jamie," He teased, opening up my bag and dumping it's contents on the hallway floor "Don't you just hate a mess?"

"She can't deal with it. That's why she chopped off all her hair!" Another replied, and I reached up to run my hands through the choppy strands six times before letting go.

"No, no, no, no, no!" I cried, crouching down as my papers fell across the floor, seeing everyone stare as I tried to find which ones went where. I had spent half an hour organizing that bag before school so I'd be ready. I did it every day, and now they had to ruin it.

"Hey, HEY!" I heard a teacher call, and I turned to see an athletic woman holding a mesh net filled with volleyballs walking down toward us. As she approached, the boys stopped, and turned to meet her attention. "Folton, Penski, Vendel, report to my office after school for detention." She commanded, looking down at me for a second before looking back to them "Get to class. Now."

"Yes, Coach." They replied, scurrying off like rabbits after seeing the big bad wolf. I fought back tears as I reorganized my things, and she crouched down beside me, her voice not at all matching the tone it had before.

"You okay, punkin?" She asked, handing me my notebooks. I nodded, sniffling softly; I hated crying, but I did it all the time. I couldn't help it; I hated it here. She continued, "You know, I used to get bullied, too. But I know someone like you who might be able to help."

She helped me pack up, and I fidgeted as I walked; my bag was all wrong. Nothing was balanced, and I could feel my pens rolling around at the bottom. I just took a deep breath, and watched as she opened the door.

"Ms. Pillsbury, I have a young lady here that I think may be in need of some personal attention." She informed, looking down at me with a soft smile. I was starting to like her.

"Oh, really?" The petite redhead jumped up, straightening a stack of pamphlets before walking over to us and smiling "Thanks, Coach Beiste. Hi there, sweetheart. What's your name?"

"Um…Jamie Neelson." I replied, reaching up to shake her hand. I saw Coach Beiste nod and smile before waving and heading out the door.

Ms. Pilsbury shook my hand hesitantly, then turned to her bottle of hand sanitizer on her desk. She pumped it twice, and I watched as she ran her hands, one over the other, ten times and whispered the numbers to herself.

"You have it to." I almost yelled, shocked that I found a teacher who had one of the same problems I did. I had a hard enough time relating to kids my own age.

"Oh, you have a compulsive disorder?" She asked, reaching in to a filing cabinet and pulling out what I assumed was mine. She flipped it open, and nodded "Yes. I see that here. I've always had mine, from a time I was very young."

"Me too." I agreed, smiling "I didn't notice it until I started school, though."

"That's when most people do." She admitted, "Now, tell me…"

Just then, there was a knock at the door. I turned, and saw a tall man in a sweater vest walk in. He seemed to almost dance his way across the floor to Ms. Pilsbury's desk, and kissed her cheek before looking over at me. He blushed, and I covered my mouth to keep from laughing.

"Hi there." He started, looking over at Ms. P "You have a student? It's after three."

"I know, but Shannon brought her in, so we're talking." Ms. P winked at me, and introduced the man beside her "Jamie, this is Mr. Schuester. He teaches American history and also runs the Glee club at McKinley."

"Hi." I smiled, lifting up my hand and waving hesitantly.

"Hello Jamie." He nodded, "It's nice to meet you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm almost late for Glee club rehearsal." He kissed Ms. P again before heading out the door.

"Glee club?" I asked, curious. I'd heard about it around campus; they were this musical choir group that won Nationals last year. It sounded kind of awesome.

"Oh, yes." She smiled, shaking her head in a knowing way "They're quite a special group."

Special. I liked the sound of that