Standing Out

Ever since my talk with Cindy, we have grown distant. Regardless, as Sara escorts Cindy around, I can see her take a sidelong glance at me. I want to forgive her, but I can’t. It has been too hard for me to get over the idea that deep inside, her feelings about me were superficial. When we were friends, she made me feel so special. Now I know why she did it. She shared my peers’ sentiment that I didn’t fit in, so she tried to make me feel good about myself. That way, I would believe that I did and everything would be okay. Well look at how that turned out.

It was late March now. Mr. Ashworth was back and my friends were gone. I had grown accustomed to swinging out my time at recess and eagerly rushing to the cafeteria when the bell rang. I enjoyed avoiding my peers now and I was more than happy to rejoin my comrades at the Weirdo Deposit Area.

“It’s been so long.” I told them. At least they welcomed me. They don’t look at me like everyone else does.

I’ve finally had to come to terms with myself, though. I’ve stopped wanting to be like everyone else. Who would want to live like they do, scanning the playground just to find someone to discriminate against? Being the one always singled out, I would feel wrong to be just like them.

Unfortunately, my recent routine peace was encroached upon.

“Hey Mya, it’s me, Cindy.” No need for introductions. “Can I sit here with you?”

“Why would you want to?” Anger crept into my voice. “This table is for people who don’t fit in only. What makes you different from everyone else?”

“What makes me different is that I care about you more than anything else.” Cindy walked away, upset.

I wanted to call her back, but I had already turned her away indirectly. Who knows if she would ever come back? She had Sara to go crying to, and Sara would definitely not pass up an opportunity to endear herself.

I sighed. Why was I so stubborn?

“You need to talk to her.” Booger Benjamin spoke up. “You had a great friend and you turned her away.”

I knew that he was right. I stood up and trudged over to Cindy’s table. I met her beseeching eyes, but she looked away.

“Cindy,” I spoke softly. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.” She ignored me so I called her name again.

Fear crept through me as Cindy found her feet and stood up. She slowly turned toward me. Mortified, I saw that she had been crying. She said nothing. Out of the blue, she embraced me, sobbing, and we remained like that for a long while.

She suddenly found her voice. “I should have never considered you to be a misfit. I’ve missed you.”

I started crying with her. “I missed you too, Cindy.”

From over her shoulder, I could see Sara glaring at me. To her, Cindy’s undivided attention, which she had claimed eagerly, was now in jeopardy.

Sara looked at me matter-of-factly. “Cindy told me that you’re ugly and she never wants to see you again. She’s faking right now, you mark my words.” I glared at her. She was obviously lying. Anyone could have figured that out.

When the bell rang and we walked together again to class, I felt wrong for ever thinking that I didn’t need her.

Reuniting with my best friend made me realize something. On this day I truly learned compassion. I had desired it for myself, but I had never truly given it to others. I never tried to understand how they felt, I just pitied myself. On this day, I discarded my skepticism and my spite and became a new entity. It was on this day that the old Mya died and the new Mya was born.