The first day of junior high today. The bus picks up 40 minutes earlier in the morning than middle school did, so at 7:20 I watched Justin line up (the pickup spot is right outside the house).
As everyone filed on, the kid in front of Justin pulled something out of his pocket — some sort of folded piece of paper — and said something to Justin over his shoulder. I imagined the conversation.
Kid: Hey, did you remember your [incredibly important piece of paper you must have one the first day or be branded an outsider for the rest of the school year]?
Justin: What?
I saw him headfake towards the house, almost making a run for it, then reconsider. He was the last kid in line, and the line had run out. He said something to the driver, who shook her head and turned her attention back to the front windshield as though the headshake had settled it.
Justin lowered his head a bit (I imagined him bulling through whatever obstacle this would present, then immediately imagined him running headlong into a brick wall that knocked him cold) and got on the bus.
I didn’t know whether to silently wish him luck or tell him to keep his head down.
