Making Friends

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        As I left Mr. Davison’s office, one of the nurses brought me to the Calm room. About five other kids sat there looking as if they didn't have a care in the world. Three girls sat at a wooden table, covered in papers, in the middle of the room. Another girl sat alone looking out the stain glass windows like a total creeper. And last was a guy messing around with an old radio that looked like it could fall apart at any minute now. The Calm room happened to be very bland, but it had a sort of comfortable feeling to it. There was very little furniture to be found in the Calm; I guess just in case someone started problems. Card games were set out on tables, and raggedy coloring books were covered with pen marks. There was a watch room a few steps from the entrance door where nurses took turns watching us ‘crazies’.

        As I made my way to an odd looking, orange couch at the back of the room I was stopped by a girl. It was the girl from the window, she wasn’t that much bigger than me, but she was a little bit taller than I am. Her long, red hair had lovely bleached blonde highlights scattered throughout it. She wore a knee-length green dress that had black lace starting at the neckline and it ended around the waist. "Hi, I'm Tamara." She said with quick pace. "And what’s your name beautiful?” At first I said nothing, I couldn't really think past what had already happened the night before, but I let simple words fall out of mouth.

        "Oh…hello." I said weakly, while trying to force my formless lips into a friendly smile. Then a screech came from across the room, and it sounded like someone was giving birth to a bowling ball. The sound caught me off guard, and I would have bolted if Tamara wasn’t blocking my way out.

        "Oh I don’t think so, Tamara Marion! You're not stealing the new girl all for your worthless self!” shouted a new face.

        A second later, a furious girl joined Tamara in the act of blocking my path to the couch. She was clearly a little older than Tamara, but she definitely wasn’t older than me. "I'm Laura, by the way.” screamed the very rude young lady. “Ignore the little twit.” Her kinky, short, brown curls bounced around her tanned narrow face.

        “It’s Tamara Martin, you wannabe bobble head.” Tamara said as she pushed Laura’s shoulder hard enough to knock her backwards. The sound of an office chair being pushed back silenced the two of them within seconds. “Alright girls, give it a break.” One of the nurses spoke in a demanding tone. “You don’t want me to lock you up again.” The whole room got extremely quiet, I could almost fall asleep right there, but my peace was short lived when someone tapped on my shoulder.

        Apparently, Laura had said something to me because she was now staring at me with an aggravated look on her face. "Well?!” she placed her petite hands on her hips when she recognized I hadn’t been listening to her. I felt the frustration flare up in my head, and I could feel my cheeks getting hot like they usually did when I got mad.

        "Um,’ well, what’ you fastidious little brat?” I shouted back at her. The way she stepped backward let me know hadn't expected me to respond in the manner I had. Although, just knowing her for a couple of minutes made it hard for me to believe she hadn’t taken a few beat downs in her life.

        "What's your name? Don't be rude! Spit it out!” Laura demanded. This bimbo had some real nerve calling me rude, but hell…you get back whatever you put out.

        "I'm not being rude! My name is Kylie!” I said, putting up no effort to hide my irritation from her.

        Instead of saying something offensive, which I had no doubt she would, she just flashed a devilish smile. She was quiet for only a moment, she looked past me as she played with the hem of her shirt, and then she looked me eye to eye. "Well, isn’t that the most unimaginative name you’ve ever heard.” She squeezed my rosy cheek and then she left.

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