Kate's first day of school felt like walking into a movie she hadn't seen the beginning of. Everyone already knew their roles, their lines, their groups. She was the only one still reading the script.
The hallways buzzed with voices, laughter, footsteps, lockers slamming. All around her, people moved in clusters—shoulder to shoulder, arms linked, whispering to each other with the ease of old friendships. Kate walked alone, her long blond hair brushing her shoulders like a soft shield.
Maybe someone will talk to me, she thought.
Maybe they'll see me.
She tried. She really did.
In homeroom, the teacher pointed her to an empty desk near the window. She slid into her seat quietly. The two girls in front of her were chatting about a party that happened last weekend. The boy beside her tapped on his phone nonstop, never lifting his eyes.
Kate waited for a moment when she could join in.
She didn't need to be the center.
She just wanted to be part of something.
At break, she approached a group of girls standing by the lockers. Their voices were loud, their confidence sharp. She pulled in a breath.
"Hi," Kate said softly, "I'm new—"
They all glanced at her.
One of them smiled politely, but it was the kind of smile that closed doors instead of opening them.
"Oh. Cool," she said before turning back to her friends and continuing the story she was telling.
Kate stood there for a heartbeat too long, then stepped away.
Later at lunch, she tried again. She carried her tray through the cafeteria, scanning for a space that felt open. All the tables were filled with circles she wasn't part of—inside jokes, shared memories, hands brushing against each other like they'd known each other forever.
She found a small table near the corner.
"Is this seat taken?" she asked a boy sitting alone, hoping—just hoping.
He looked up for a second. "My friend's sitting there."
Kate nodded, even though she wasn't sure if that was true.
She moved on.
Finally, she found an empty table in the very back and sat down. Her hazy eyes shimmered in the cafeteria's bright light, reflecting a mix of hope and disappointment.
She picked at her lunch.
She watched people laugh.
She wondered what it felt like to belong without trying so hard.
Her boldness flickered.
Her timidness pressed heavier against her ribs.
But she didn't cry.
Kate wasn't the crying type. She was too strong for that—even if no one else noticed.
As she looked out the cafeteria window, she whispered to herself, "It's okay. Someone will see me. Someone will."