Malika clutched her backpack straps, her curly hair shined in the sun. Every step seemed loud, echoing in her ears as she passed groups of students who glanced her way, some whispering, some simply curious. She kept her gaze low, her heart thumping as she searched for her homeroom, feeling alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces.
As Malika entered, the room fell silent. Dozens of eyes turned her way, lingering on her unfamiliar face and her springy curls. The teacher’s voice rang out, "Malika?" Malika swallowed hard, quietly responding "Here," before sinking into her seat and pulling out her notebook, sketching shapes and patterns to steady her nerves.
Malika edged to the end of a crowded table, hoping to blend in, but the empty seat beside her seemed to grow wider with every passing minute. She picked at her lunch, doodling quietly in her notebook, wishing someone would sit next to her but not daring to ask. The noise pressed in, but she felt invisible, her thoughts swirling with worry about fitting in.
The calm of the library wrapped around Malika like a favorite blanket. Here, surrounded by stories, she could breathe. She wandered to the realistic fiction section, fingers trailing over the spines of well-loved books. Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Zuri until they both reached for the same shelf.
"You like realistic fiction novels?!" Malika hesitated, nervously clutching her notebook. "Umm, yeah," she replied, unsure. "Me too, they're so good! And so relatable," Zuri grinned. Relief flooded Malika as she realized she might have finally found someone who understood her. "Yeah, I know. This is my favorite book category, and yeah, it's so relatable!" Her voice grew brighter with each word.
"Hey, do you know how to draw?" Malika nodded, showing her notebook. "Oh good! Do you want to join our group? We draw about books we read and just draw in general," Zuri said excitedly. "Sure, I mean, yeah. Umm, do I have to do anything to get in?" "No gurl, you don't have to do anything, don't worry. You'll love the gurls in the group. I'm friends with them and they're really nice!" They walked to the table, where Patrice and Imani greeted her with wide smiles.
"Hi, I'm Patrice. I love your style! It's an inspiration! Can I make you a scrunchie that matches your fit? Also, if you couldn't tell, I LOVE fashion," Patrice beamed, her enthusiasm infectious. "Uh, thank you. Umm, yeah, you can make me a scrunchie that matches my fit," Malika replied, surprised by the warm welcome. "Don't mind Patrice, she loves meeting new people. I do too, but she comes off a bit crazy. Anyway, I'm Imani. I also love fashion but not as much as Patrice. Umm, I mainly sketch. I also love singing. So yeah!" The girls laughed together, and Malika felt hope bloom in her chest.
Malika’s Mom glanced in the rearview mirror, "So, how was your first day, Malika?" She told her mom about her day."…But my favorite part of the day was when I met Zuri and her friends. They were so nice, and didn’t judge me at all," Malika replied, her voice soft but happy. "That’s nice, so you made some friends on the first day of school. That’s amazing! I was one of the kids who didn’t make friends until later on in school," her mom said."Make sure to keep those friends and don’t leave them," she added. "I won’t, Mama," Malika promised, gazing out the window, a small smile on her lips, feeling she belonged at last. Malika enjoyed that feeling.
