“Come on Rose!” my mom screamed, “I’m not going to drive you to school if you miss the bus!”

I quickly put my best clothes on. Some ripped up jeans and tank top from salvation army (an old junky shop for poor people or if you want to say it nicely challenged in the money department...either way you say it, it is not good) I slipped on my only sneakers too. I was really nervous about school. I watched my hands shake a little as I brushed my knotty black hair. Ohio was all I know. I don’t know how the South Carolina kids are going to act. In Ohio I came into kindergarten with some friends from preschool, so even when others laughed at my clothes, I still had my friends to laugh it off with, and after a few years, everyone got used to me. Now, in Ohio, I don’t know if the kids are going to laugh at me, and if they do, I won’t have any friends to back me up and laugh it off with. I nervously picked up my suitcase that was acting as my backpack and brought it downstairs. That didn’t help if I was going to be teased either; my old suitcase backpack. I would be using my binders I used at my old school, Seaside. Grandpa gave me them because he knew my parents wouldn’t buy me them even though he, himself doesn’t have the most money (no offense Grandpa).

“Honk!” The bus was here! I quickly shoved some Frosted Flakes into my mouth from my mom’s cereal bowl (you should have seen her face!) and raced out the door with my suitcase flying behind me. I didn’t even look back at my parents as I raced out the door, approaching the bus. In a perfect world, my parents would yell at me for hugs and kisses to start the day off. Again, in a perfect world...NOT my world.

That's another thing that didn’t help the teasing, my parents never back me up when I need help. Instead, my mom asks me to do chores while my dad sits there, dumbstruck, and when that's not happening their on their computers. I could never ask them to help me fit in. I have always wondered if my parents ever needed help if I would back them up. I mean they have never done me right when it comes to standing up for me,......I step up the stairs, lugging my suitcase behind me onto the bus to see kids laughing and smiling and talking, what I would typically be doing on the first day of school if I was back in Ohio. And suddenly I was faced with a terrifying situation. Where was I going to sit? Was I going to sit with some random kid or was I going to sit alone?

Someone from the back of the bus screamed, “LOOK AT THAT NEW GIRL!” Now everyone was staring at me, and soon the bus was full of laughter and pointing. My cheeks burned bright against my face as I sat down in a seat closest to the driver, alone.

I watched as everyone else played on their phones. I have never had a phone, so I kept myself entertained by looking out the window. South Carolina is beautiful once you take a minute to observe it. Flowers like pansies and tulips everywhere...cute little candy stores…beautiful statues and other tourist attractions. I liked South Carolina; it puts up a good fight with the other Carolina. I sighed as I walked off the bus to look up at the school. It looked about the same size as my old school, and it looked like any other school. Brick with black shingle roofing, white pillars, big windows, and a big sign over the front saying Seaside Middle School.

I walked into the school with my suitcase to be greeted by teachers saying, “Happy first day of school!”, and then one pulled me to the side and asked if I was “Ms. Rose Smith,” and I replied “yes.” The teacher had blond hair and a beautiful bright smile, wearing a classic green plaid skirt with a white top. A cute outfit actually...for a teacher.

“Oh, and I’m Mrs. Crimson,” she added politely,” I will be your guidance counselor for this year, so if you ever need anything, come to me,” she said. She quickly took me to the main office, me and my suitcase trying to stay at the same pace as her. “Mrs. Buscro,” Mrs. Crimson said,” This is Rose Smith, can we have her schedule?”

Mrs. Buscro, with a brown-haired bob and plump belly, replied, “yes,” and handed me a lined piece of paper with my schedule on it. I quickly slip it into my pocket. "Oh and Rose, you are on the butterfly team this year. This middle school splits the grades up in three depending on a category. This year eighth grade is insects, and there are beetles, caterpillars, and the team your in, butterflies.”

“Cool.” I answered, “my old school did something like that too.” At Ridgefield Middle School we were grouped by colors, red, purple, and green. I was in green last year and red for the year before.

“Oh, Rose, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you, this is Marylyn,” Mrs. Crimson said as she pointed to a girl sitting in a seat in the corner. It was the first time I noticed this girl, and she seemed nice. Her head was down, and she was looking into her lap, but I could tell her hair was a white blondish color, the exact opposite compared to my midnight black hair, and her whole outfit put together must have been a thousand dollars, maybe more, counting her diamond-encrusted necklace. She seemed flawless, perfect maybe at a glance. I felt awkward looking at myself after looking at her. It would be easy for her to tease me when her outfit was next to mine, so maybe I was wrong to think she was nice. I stepped back. “Marylyn will show you around the school for today, and be your buddy for the next few weeks.” Marylyn finally picked her head up, to show a full smile, and it wasn’t fake… I could tell. “How about you give Rose a tour Marylyn?” Mrs. Crimson asked.

“Sure!” Marylyn answered, and suddenly my suitcase and I was following her out the central office and around the school.

“So,” Marylyn said looking me over, “where did you come from?”

“Ohio,” I answered nervously, “Ridgefield Middle School.”

Suddenly a group of boys from on my bus yelled, “Hey! It’s that weird girl from on the bus!” then started hysterically laughing.

My eyes watered and my cheeks turned red, I knew Marylyn was going to laugh with them, so I let my head sink down. I clutched my suitcase handle hard.

“Hey, why don’t you guys just shut up?!”

I lifted my head, Marylyn was sticking up for me. The hallway became quiet, and the boys walked away. I could feel peace enter me again.

“Thank you,” was all I said. From that point, I knew Marylyn, and I was going to be friends.

“Don’t let those stupid boys get to you,” Marylyn said, “honestly they are just insecure about themselves, and I guess it just makes them feel better to pick on somebody like you.”

“Do they ever pick on you?” I asked.

“No,” she answered, “but they used to. They used to walk around bowing for me, calling me “little miss princess Marylyn Pinkerton.” Pinkerton’s my last name. They would call me a spoiled brat, judge me by my clothes, and imitate what I sounded like to them. It was very offensive to me, although I do admit I might be a little spoiled that does not mean I am a spoiled brat.”

A little spoiled? I thought. “I understand,” I said. “Then you just started sticking up for yourself and others?”

“Yep!”

“I wish I could do that,” I murmured.

“If you ever need anything you can come to me,” said Marylyn, “I’ll be there.”

“Thanks again, ”I said.

“No problem,” Marylyn answered, “oh, and I forgot to tell you I’m a butterfly too so I could have all my main subjects with you!”

I quickly took out my schedule from my pocket, and Marylyn took hers out too.

“I got mine before you came,” she commented. We put our schedules together. “Oh!” Marylyn said,” at Seaside Middle we use letters to organize our main subjects like sixth graders do A, B, C, D, 7th graders do E, F, G, H, and we do I, J, K, L.”

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“Ok!” I responded, “I have I math, you?”

“Same!”

“J social studies?”

“Yep!”

“K language arts?”

“Uh-huh!”

“L science?”

“Ya!”Marylyn yelled, “we have all our main subjects together, now what about specials?”

We continued to compare schedules and turns out we are in every class together. I am so happy! After comparing schedules, we actually started the tour.

“So, you have seen the office.” Marylyn said, “how about I show you the teams first, and on our way, I can show you other stuff?”

“Sure!” I answered.

“So, I have heard that luckily we got the best team. caterpillars have too much homework, and in the beetle team the teachers aren’t good,” she said.

“Yay!”

“Well, so first off here is the beetle team, and the cafeteria is just across the hallway. Here, I’ll show you.” She led me into a massive room with hundreds of tables and seats, like any other ordinary cafeteria, but then I realized today, who was I going to sit with?

I think Marylyn saw the terror in my face because she said, “You can sit with me.”

“Thanks,” I said gratefully.

We walked out of the cafeteria and then she showed me the courtyard, the nurse's office, the gym, the caterpillar team, our team, where recess is, the Spanish classroom, the art rooms, the engineering design rooms, the chorus room (I’m not doing the piano. I cringed when I saw a grand piano in the chorus room!), and lastly the health rooms.

This school is big! I thought. After the tour was done, Marylyn showed me to my locker, which number is written on my schedule with the combo. It turns out it is only a few lockers down from Marylyns! I couldn’t get the combo since my last school didn't have locks, but I’m sure I’ll get it soon. Marylyn opened my locker for me, and I put my suitcase in there, and took out all my old binders and put them on the top shelf of my locker, some of them were broken, but it's the best I have. The first, the second, and the third bell had already rung, but Marylyn said she was excused from classes for helping me.

Then, we both went to our third-period class, Spanish (after I grabbed my Spanish binder and Marylyn stopped at her locker to get her Spanish binder too). I really liked our Spanish teacher, her name was Señora Límon, which is funny because límon means lemon in Spanish. She says her pet peeve is when people say “when life gives you lemons you make lemonade.” I thought that was funny. After that, the rest of the day flew by. I liked all my teachers, some more than others, but overall they were all very nice. At lunch, I sat with Marylyn as I said I would, and it was entertaining. I bought lunch from the cafeteria, although it’s free for me because the school funds money through taxes so people who don’t have much money like me can have a good lunch. I did notice that Marylyn had probably a 200 dollar lunch box with a beautiful luscious chicken noodle soup and chocolate lava cake. After that Marylyn and I had a perfect time together, laughing at lunch as I did in Ohio.

When we got to the point where we were telling corny jokes, Marylyn’s “why did the chicken cross the road, to get to the other slide” sent me doubled over laughing, and I laughed so hard my school lunch milk came out of my nose! That made Marylyn start laughing too. She generously gave me some of her chocolate lava cake in trade for my school lunch carrots just so she could make a walrus impression which was hilarious, and that's when I asked her if she wanted to come over that afternoon. I sighed a deep breath of relief when she said yes, and after that, the rest of the day was a blur until Marylyn met me at my locker with her handcrafted backpack. She called her mom on her iPhone X, like the one my mom tried to sell on Facebook from the piano. It's the first time I have thought of the piano in a while,...Well, her mom said she could come over. I knew my parents wouldn’t mind, or care.

It's so crazy I thought as I lugged my suitcase behind me and we walked out of school together. Us, complete opposites, and now good friends. Between her wealthiness and white blond hair and my poorness and midnight black hair, how is it possible that we could be friends? Well, it happened.

That afternoon Marylyn took my bus home, sadly we aren’t on the same bus (apparently she has a beautiful beach house right on the water). I led her to my house, both of us with our bags and I just wanted to give her a heads up.

“So,” I said, “I don’t know if you have noticed, but my family and I aren't the wealthiest. My parents both sell things on Facebook for a living, and they aren’t the most caring parents. They are usually of their computers. Our house also isn’t the tidiest, although it is a little better since I did some chores. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Oh,” Marylyn answered awkwardly. We slowly walked up and approached the house. I closed my eyes hoping her reaction to the house wouldn’t be so severe. I waited for her opinion.

“Its,” she said, scrambling for words,” it is AWESOME!”

“What?!” I asked shocked. Awesome? This dump of a house is fantastic?

“It's so cool how you guys leave the house like this! Sometimes I hate how prim and proper my house is, so it's cool you guys have a house that's different. Everything is in its natural state.” Marylyn said, and I could tell she meant it. That's one of the things I already love about Marylyn, she's always honest.

“Uh, thanks, I guess.” I took her inside and introduced her to my parents after we both dropped off our bags near the front, old, creaky door.

“Hi Mom, hi Dad, this is Marylyn, my new friend.” I got grunts for an answer as both of them stared into their computers with some weird lipgloss and pencils by their side.

“Rose, didn’t I tell you to make the beds?” my mom asked.

“Yep!” I answered, and I led Marylyn up into my bedroom with an unmade bed.

“So,” Marylyn said as we sat on my bed, “just to be clear, your parents are Facebook sellers, and from what I have seen the two computers your parents own are the only electronic devices in this whole house?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“That's so cool, this is so different from my house but so awesome.” I smiled.

“Let me show you around the house,” I said. “You have seen the kitchen downstairs with the weird cabinets and random furniture everywhere, and my bedroom, but let me show you upstairs.”

I quickly showed her my parent's bedroom on the third floor, and their bathroom, the only one in the house, then we got to the attic. I hadn't been up there in a while.

“I know it looks empty, but a grand piano used to be here, my grandpa’s,” I said. “This house was my grandpa’s, so when he died in his will he said he wanted his only daughter to have his house, my mom, and that's why we moved from Ohio, to move into grandpa’s old house.”

“Oh,” Marylyn said, “I’m sorry your grandpa died.”

“It’s ok,” I said, thinking about Grandpa’s ghost. “He’s still here,” I muttered. “I inherited his piano and played it for a while,” I said. Was I saying too much? No, I trust Marylyn.

“Why didn’t you do piano at school instead of the chorus?” Marylyn asked, “and where did the piano go?” She was getting curious. Should I tell her? It would be fine, I trusted her, I could tell her anything.

And that’s when I told her it all. Every single little thing. How it started with the piano, me wishing, the souls with the gross green liquid, the messages, and even my ghost Grandpa. Finally, my secret had been freed from the jail of my mind.

“Wow,” Marylyn murmured, ”a soul-sucking piano! That’s crazy! But Rose, you sure this wasn’t a dream?”

“What?” I asked. Didn’t she believe me?

“Well, that story is a little far-fetched,” she said.

“I know,” I answered, “but you have to believe me. The piano was standing right here! Here I’ll prove it, I’ll get my ghost grandpa.” I hoped and prayed for him to come, pleading in my thoughts. I waited for his faded version of himself to appear, but he didn't. “Why isn’t he coming out?” I asked myself. “Marylyn,” I said as I held her shoulders, “I know it's tough to believe, but you have to trust me, all that I just said happened. I don’t know why my ghost grandpa isn’t coming out, but why would I lie to you?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Marylyn said, “I know you wouldn’t. Sorry, it's just hard to believe, but I trust you, Rose, I really do, so I believe you.”

“Thank you,” I answered, “now let's go do something,” I said, and we raced off and out the door to play in the early fall sun.

I soon learned Marylyn’s parents might spoil her like I wish I was but were at work 24/7 (something I didn’t wish for). She told me they were nice, but she also told me she felt like they never found the time even to get to know her. Marylyn called her parents at around five for her to be picked up (luckily we had no homework since it was the first day of school), but they both said they were busy, so Marylyn’s babysitter picked her up, as Marylyn said, “like she always did.” Apparently this babysitter's kind of like a second Mom to Marylyn. We hugged each other goodbye, and I walked back into the house to turn towards my ‘still on their computers’ parents.

“Do you guys like Marylyn?”

“Why don’t you go clean our room?”

“Ugh! Fine...but only cause I have nothing better to do.” I went upstairs and cleaned my parent's room, made the bed, swept the floors, and organized their stuff, and then I went downstairs to have my dinner. A new type of dinner, Spaghettios. I actually didn’t mind this, and they were pretty good.

“Decided to do something new,” my mom commented, glancing over from her computer screen to see me gobbling up my dinner, and for a second I saw her smile. A slite second,...I haven’t seen her do something like that for what,...ever? I quickly absorbed the moment and quickly grinned back at her before she returned to her computer screen. I don’t miss Ohio so much anymore...