In Between Phases

My name is Melody, I’m twelve years old, and today is my first day at a brand-new school. Seventh grade. Middle school. New town, new people, new everything. Mom keeps calling it a “fresh start,” but honestly, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to feel. Excited? Nervous? Both? Neither?

All I know is that the weekend ended way too fast, and Mondays are already the worst day to start anything.

The next morning, my alarm explodes through my room.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

I groan and roll over, squinting at the glowing numbers on my nightstand.

7:30 AM. School starts at eight.

I flop back onto my pillow and pull the blanket over my face. Maybe if I stay still enough, time will stop. But then Mom’s voice cuts through the hallway.

“MELODY! Breakfast is on the table! Don’t let it get cold!”

Of course.

I drag myself out of bed, open my closet, and stare at my clothes like they’re supposed to magically assemble an outfit for me. I pick something simple — nothing too bright or too weird. I don’t want to stand out on my first day.

After changing, I grab my phone and backpack and head to the kitchen. Mom has already set my plate down. She’s wiping the counter like she’s been awake for hours.

I sit and start eating, even though my stomach is too tight to feel hungry.

“It’s almost eight,” she says. “We need to head out soon, darling. Try to finish up.”

I sigh. “Can you relax? You still have to do paperwork before I even start.”

She gives me a look, but I finish my food, rinse my dish, and follow her out to the car.

The drive to the school feels shorter than it should. Mom keeps glancing at me like she’s trying to read my thoughts.

“How are you feeling? Nervous? Excited?”

“Nervous,” I admit, staring out the window. “But I guess that’s normal.”

“Exactly! You’ll do great. You’ll make friends, maybe even get a little crush.” She wiggles her eyebrows like this is supposed to be fun.

I shrug. “We’ll see.”

A few minutes later, we pulled into the visitor parking lot. Mom gathers the stack of papers while I grab my backpack and phone. The school looks bigger up close, like it’s waiting to swallow me whole.

We walk toward the front doors together. My stomach twists.

Inside, the office smells like paper, printer ink, and coffee. Mom steps up to the counter.

“We’re here to see Principal Cano,” she says.

The lady behind the desk smiles politely. “Of course. I’ll go get her.”

She disappears into an office, and I stand there next to Mom, trying not to look as nervous as I feel. My hands won’t stay still. My backpack strap keeps slipping off my shoulder. Everything feels too loud and too quiet at the same time.

This is it. My new beginning. Whether I’m ready or not.