NEW SCHOOL

She knocked on the bedroom door. “Can we talk, honey?” It was the first room of my very own. I took it as a gift when we moved in just a week before, even though my 11th birthday would not come for six more days. I was used to moving; it’s what you did when you were an Army brat.

I knew these pale green walls. They looked just like the last place. They were still bare. My stuff was still in dung colored boxes, all different sizes. Brown masking tape kept them shut. I had written a word or two on each of them, “Books”, “Scrapbooks & Photos” “School Stuff.” “Nick’s Treasures: PRIVATE.”

That box lay open in an armless chair next to the Army-issue fake mahogany desk with drawers down one side. I had already put my clothes into a chest of drawers, had hung the rest in the tiny closet on the far wall. The stack of eight schoolbooks was wedged on the top of the desk, smelling inky new. Not every school gave you brand new books on your first day of school.

When I got them that morning, they filled me with hope. It was going to be a good place, a fresh start. I just knew they were going to like me this time. If I tried hard like Mommy said, I would get good marks and gold stars and maybe I would get a quarter for each one, like I did that time in Germany.

I thought of my report card from the last school lay open on the desk next to the new schoolbooks. I picked it up and read: “Nicky is a very good student, but he must learn to talk less in class and stay in his seat.”

I would have to make it on my grades, because I was no good at sports. I was little for my age, skinny, no muscles even for a kid. I never understood why I was always last or second-to-last when they chose up sides. I would look at the eyes of the bigger stronger boys, they seemed so eager. They wanted to play, they were good. I just wanted to run. I wanted to crawl into my room and hide, get under the covers and never have to play those games.

I smoothed out my bright blue short-sleeved shirt, and walked towards the door. The flesh-colored sateen coverlet was crumpled in folds, like a giant version of my fingers after a long soak in the bathtub. I turned the knob and pulled on the cheap hollow door. She was standing there with her arms crossed, and there was a piece of paper in her hands.
I looked at my feet.

She crossed the threshold into my room and said. “I’m very disappointed, Nicky. I thought you agreed this wouldn’t happen again at the new school.”