New Girl

The door opens. the room grows silent.
I walk in. An intake of breath.
Their shameless stares intimidate me.
My heart racing, I sit down.
I follow them around all day,
Amidst whispers of "New Girl!
What's she in here for?"
At the end of the day I count:
Two notes asking for my number.
And another, asking my name.
The next day I return, books in hand.
Searching for a friendly face,
I prepare myself for hostile stares.
None come.
Once again, I've made it.
I am no longer "The New Girl."
I have a name.

~Aubriana Jamese Johnston~
Written February 11 2007