I scurry down the hallway, clutching my stack of binders to my chest. Snippets of conversations float through the air, colliding with each other in front of dinged blue lockers, under blinding white lights. I keep my eyes firmly glued on my feet as I navigate the crowded hall, the cacophony continuing overhead.

I try to shrink into myself, head hung low over hunched shoulders, my long, dark brown hair obscuring my hazel brown eyes. Don’t look at me, nothing to see here. I hear laughter coming from a group of kids against a wall, far enough away from any teachers’ door that they aren’t rebuked. I swear, I see them looking at me. Oh my god, what if they’re talking - laughing - at me? Speed up, get away!  2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, 512… I let the numbers wash over me, helping calm my speeding heart.

I rush through the treacherous hall before finally finding my locker. I pull it open and drop off my binders, ready for lunch. Oh wait, lunch, where will I sit?? This far into the year, everyone already has their table. What if the table I decide to sit at is already full?! What if they say I can’t sit there?! I have to get out. My mind set, I slam my locker door, the sound reverberating down the hall. Too loud, people are looking at me. I race away, my feet almost as fast and loud as my pounding heart against the used-to-be-white tiles.

I sprint outside through the black, plastic doors, preparing myself to eat my lunch hidden away. I can almost hear what my mom will say when she learns that I hid outside during lunch instead of interacting. “You just need to learn to face your fears. What’s the worst that could happen?” What’s the worst that could happen?! Total, utter, humiliation. What if I try too hard? What if I look stupid? Anything could happen! All the what ifs swirl around, as I shake my head and slide down the slightly grimy reddish-brown brick wall. Anything could happen. Besides, it’s her fault we moved in the first place because of her new job. Back home, I had my friends to rely on. I knew where to go at lunch, where to sit in class, everything. Here, I know nothing. I have nowhere to sit, nowhere to go, nothing! I begin to hyperventilate, my hands shaking as I set down my lunch. 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64… The numbers’ familiar march stills my hands, although they’re still shaky. I pick up my sandwich. PB&J, huh, how did I not notice that earlier? and continue eating. I glance up at the dead tree in front of me when a hoarse cackling caw breaks the silence. Is that a magpie? Weird, you don’t usually see those around here. Shrugging, I look back down at my meal.

“Hey, are you supposed to be over here?” An unknown voice breaks my reverie. I look up in alarm and see a girl with brown hair streaked blue wearing a “Schrödinger’s cat: wanted, dead and alive” shirt, Ha, I like that. I realize that I’ve been staring too long, and my gaze hits the ground, food like ashes in my mouth.

“Um, I don’t know. I’m kinda new,” I mumble, trying to discreetly watch her. Her eyes seem almost golden in the sun.

“Why don’t you come sit with me?” she offers, hitting me with a stunning smile. I feel heat rush into my cheeks as my eyes slide from her eyes back to the dirt.

“I don’t know… I’d really hate to impose,” I mutter, watching my foot make little piles of dust.

“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen,” she teases. Her words strike a familiar chord, except, this time, I do the undoable. I reach up, and take her hand. “My name is Ayla,” she says, walking forwards. I force my feet to continue, my torn up, dark blue sneakers dragging on the dusty ground as she pulls me ahead, until we find a small group of kids around a surprisingly clean looking green picnic table. Murmurs drift over on the wind, a pleasant contrast to the shrieks I heard earlier in the hall. A couple of them glance over. They don’t seem mocking, but instead their gaze is surprisingly friendly, at odds with the scenario that had been playing in my head. “I found a person!” Ayla announces to the group.

“What’s her name?” an Asian-looking boy with a “You matter, unless you multiply by the speed of light squared. Then you energy” shirt shouts back. Ayla looks at me expectantly. I look up, and shocking myself, make eye contact with the group.

“My name is Anastasia.”

***

I’ve come to realize that by myself, all I will find is sorrow, loneliness. After all, who would be happy alone by themselves forever? But with a friend, you can find mirth, happiness, laughter. My group all started as outsiders. An innocent soul, shunned, scorned for no reason. I guess that’s why we call ourselves the Magpies, after a bird demonized for no reason other than the color of its feathers. I still have trouble talking to some people, but with a friend, what’s the worst that could happen?

One for Sorrow

Two for Mirth

Three for a Funeral

Four for a Birth

Five for Silver

Six for Gold

Seven for a Secret, never to be told