Randel

Randel

I was so nervous getting off the bus. My first day at my new school and I insisted my mother didn’t need to come with me, I was twelve after all! But now that I was there, I didn’t feel twelve, I felt about five.

Walking up in the crowd of noisy kids all knowing one another, all knowing where they were going and I wasn’t even sure where the office I was suppose to report to was, I was downright scared. I remembered it was through a large doorway when we were there registering, but there were three large doorways! I’d started to freeze, when a voice behind me yelled, “Hey, Pigtails!”

I whipped around, trying for indignancy but I dropped my bag spewing my notebook and all my new pencils and pens and things, all over the ground. Lunging for them, embarrassed, angry, upset, and frankly on the verge of tears, when this boy leaned down, very close to me, and quietly said, “Let me help you.”

I looked up into two blue eyes, not acting smirky, not even smiling, just being honest eyes.

“I’m sorry I startled you. You’re new, right? Let me help you. Trust me.”

Then he looked up and called to another girl, “Janice! I think this is the new girl, can you show her where to go?”

Janice brought me in. Janice and I were best friends all through school, still are. She lives in Mayberry now.

“So what happened to that boy Grammie?”

“Well he became a real good friend too actually. I think you know him.”

“What’s his name?”

“It’s Randel, just like yours.”

“But I don’t know anybody whose name is Randel except me.”

“Well that’s because you call him by his nickname.”

“What’s his nickname?”

“It’s Grampie!”