Connected Spirits.

“We have a new girl starting today. Her name is Chris Senoj. Would anyone like to look after her?”
I stood at the front of the classroom like a plum, while Miss Smith the teacher introduced me. Just recently, my parents had divorced, and I’d moved to a different town with my mum, causing me to change my school. I wasn’t really that bothered though. It was a really shit school, and I hated everyone there, they were all twats.
I wasn’t sure why Miss Smith was trying to palm me off onto somebody. I don’t need friends. I’m fine on my own.
“No?” The teacher’s voice cut into my thoughts. “How about you, Sandy?” Miss Smith smiled at me patronizingly. “Go sit next to Sandy please, Chris, and we can get on with the lesson.”
I sighed and took my seat where Miss Smith was pointing. I was now sitting next to a girl who might possibly be the popular type. Loads of friends, a boyfriend, possibly an ex or two. The leader of her gang. Then again, she was probably a loner like me. No friends, always getting bullied, nobody to stick up for her. Even the teachers took the piss out of her sometimes. I don’t know. I couldn’t tell from just looking at her. One clue was that she was sitting on her own, which is why Miss Smith sat me next to her. But then again, she probably had a best friend who was off sick that day.
“Hi, I’m Sandy,” she smiled at me.
“I know,” I smiled back. “Miss Smith just said so.”
Her smile disappeared quickly, and she looked upset. What? It wasn’t my fault she was an easy target for sarcasm.
“Now today class, we will all be pairing up to do a project. This project will be all about friendship. What it is, and how we deal with it. I want you all to work on an essay together telling me about your idea of friendship.” Miss Smith smiled at me in that annoying sickly way again. “This is your chance to make new friends Chris.”
The class erupted in a loud chatter as me and Sandy sat quietly in our seats. Then Sandy turned to me. “I don’t know anything about friendship,” she told me. “I haven’t got any friends.” Then she flinched, like she thought I was going to laugh at her. But I didn’t laugh.
“Why haven’t you got any friends?” I asked. Sandy looked sad. “It’s because my parents got divorced before I started at this school a year ago, and everyone picks on me for it. Saying I come from a broken home.”
I started when she said this. I had finally found a connected spirit, someone I could connect with. We both came from homes where our parents had got divorced. I felt a twinge of guilt about being mean to her earlier.
“We got off one the wrong foot earlier,” I said. “My parents got divorced recently, and I had to move house with my mum.” I smiled at her. “What’s your full name?”
“Cassandra Harper,” she answered. “But I watched “Grease” and I fell in love with the name Sandy. It’s short for Cassandra.”
“My name’s Christina, but my parents call me Chris because they reckon I’m like a bloke.” I laughed. Sandy managed a weak titter.
“That’s why I never had any friends at my old school,” I said. “I refused to follow the crowd and be the sort of girl to wear short skirts and makeup. And everyone hated me for it.”
“Look Britney. Look at the two saddoes getting along together.” Two girls had flocked over to our table. One was quite tall, with curly brown hair. While the other was a little shorter with blonde hair. Both were slim and pretty.
“Broken Home Girl and New Girl,” giggled the tall one. “What a pair.” They both fell about spluttering.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You two are the class bitches who look for any excuse under the sun to bully the other girls in your class?”
The two girls ’Ooohhhed!”
“Watch out Alicia,” the blonde one laughed. “New Girl’s feisty.”
“We’ll have to put her in her place,” Alicia agreed. She suddenly grabbed my hair and pulled really hard. The excruciating pain overwhelmed me, and I whimpered. I tried to free myself of the bitch’s grip, but she held on tightly. Then she let go as there came a clattering noise from next to her. Her friend Britney had fallen down and was lying in a heap on the floor, looking surprised. I looked at Sandy, who was still sat down, but her leg was stuck out. It was obvious she felt the same way I did. It was also obvious what she had done. She had stuck her leg out and kicked Britney down, as a distraction for Alicia to let go of my hair. Alicia helped Britney up and, glaring at us, they both went back to their seats.
“Thanks,” I smiled at Sandy.
“No problem,” she smiled back.
Then we both started work on our essay about friendship. I didn’t know what friendship meant to me before, but I did now:
Connected spirits.